cottonferret
Qia
spicykvnt
Festive
Rockette
Skai
Snowdrops
Cleveraptor
ButtsnBalls
Dion
The lights went out.
In the dark instant that followed, a shout rose from below. Panicked and shaken, breaking the evening’s casual relaxation as surely as the thump and rattle of a body flinging itself against a door. Between sobbing breaths, faces poked around corners and over couches, as the Morgans each turned surprise and trepidation towards the guest room where the stranger they’d offered a night’s shelter was kicking up such a fuss. “Hey, hey, woah now, it’s only the power’s out, be back on soon’s be, reckon. Easy there, fella.” Three children stared, wide-eyed, as their father reached for the door handle and paused only briefly at the heavy crash behind it.
When he and his wife rushed into the room, they found the kid’s bag left behind, and a broken window. The only thing missing was a china figurine from the mantel, but they found it two days later on the porch. Along with an apologetic note. They didn’t see him again.
Thunk!
Brakes screamed shrill protest as the woman’s leg locked straight in panic spurred adrenaline. The truck wobbled, back end drifting, but came to a stop still more or less parallel to the road. Swearing, she looked in the mirror for the deer that had run out in front of her, knowing without wanting to admit it that the hit had been too solid to leave it standing. Wishing they weren’t so fast, wondering where in all hell it had jumped out from. What had it leaping into her way when it could have gone the other and lived?
The shadowy silhouette that slipped up out of the ditch as she finally saw the deer in her rearview mirror was large and eerie in the sudden quiet. Witchfire glow lighting up its eyes as it glanced her way a long moment before turning to the dying deer and dragging it, in a series of sharp tugs, back into the shadows where her lights couldn’t reach.
A wolf? So near the city? More likely a big dog, with surprisingly good timing…. Without really thinking, the woman rolled up her windows before she set off again, and she couldn’t help looking back more than once, but the creature must have hauled the carcass into the ditch by then, out of sight and in the shadows. She’d have to ask someone if wolves often came this way.
Old Abe, from up the way, swore he saw some varmint sneaking about near his goat shed, setting the flock into fussing. But when he went and grabbed his gun, wasn’t hide nor hair of it, not a single thing but a footprint. Darndest thing though: looked human. Musta been a bear.
Old man’s eyes aren’t what they used to be.
The beautiful day ahead had turned into stormy skies and angry rumbles. He’d known it was coming. He’d smelled the rain on the wind, felt the tension rising. But he’d thought he’d have more time to find some shelter. Trouble was, he didn’t know the area. Hadn’t known where he was almost from the start. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he’d crossed the border yet or was still in Canada. It wasn’t like territories were only a human concept, but rocks and plants definitely didn’t care either way, and he’d mostly been avoiding roads. They’d made walking easier, but they weren’t exactly the safest places when cars came barrelling out of nowhere.
Another few seconds, and that deer he’d been chasing might have gotten off home free, and he’d be the one lying there…
At the time, Addison hadn’t thought about it. He’d been too busy making the most of a good opportunity. Filling his empty stomach. It was only later, replete and satisfied, that his mind had flashed back to that split second’s hesitation and fear he’d felt. To the broken deer, the truck’s taillights flashing bright and swaying as the driver straightened out and kept going after a long, long pause. That could have been him. And even if it wasn’t, a smaller car, or a less experienced driver… Someone else might have died. And it would have been his fault. He didn’t need to risk his own or anyone else’s life more than he already did for a meal. Even if it was probably the only way he’d catch a meal. Better to wash dishes, if it came to that.
Only, that meant following roads again. Well, country roads had less traffic, and slower, usually. So, after a while, he’d found himself another one. Not quite a dirt track, but it hardly looked like it had two lanes, let alone enough to be a highway, and there were plenty of turn-offs here, down long driveways. Dogs had been barking at him from just about every second house for the last two hours. But he’d politely ignored them and kept on. And now, here he was, drenched within seconds by the downpour, daylight suddenly dark as twilight, no public roof in sight, every barn guarded by dogs, and him too shy to go knocking on doors again after the last time.
The memory still made him flush warmly, so, asking for shelter was out as an option. But, before he gave up entirely, Addison decided to give hitchhiking a go. Might get him somewhere he could stay, and let him keep going for a bit, too. Not to mention, if he could ask someone where the hell he was, that would be great. Just as long as the map in his bag, which was currently dribbling a steady stream of somehow colder than the rain rainwater down his back, was still legible. Because otherwise, yeah, he was lost. Not a horrible thing. Wasn’t like he’d been going anywhere to start with, but he was thinking that maybe he should start thinking about that. About having a destination, because sooner or later, he’d hit ocean, and then what? Couldn’t swim that.
Without a goal, there wasn’t much point in moving forward, after a certain point, and he didn’t know what he was looking for. Made him restless, even though he’d been on the move almost every day for the past month.
So, making a miserable picture on the side of the road, sodden, hunched against the wind, dark hair slicked to his head and dripping into his eyes, shorts doing absolutely nothing to keep out the chill, Addison kept on. One soggy shoe in front of the other, hand out whenever he saw light flashing off the water on the road. Three cars in slow succession went on past… One, considerately, went wide so as not to splash him. The thought was nice, but the effort pointless, he was already as wet as you could get. With the light rapidly fading despite it being only mid-afternoon, Addison figured that the rate of traffic might give him two, maybe three more chances before he’d need to ditch the road and risk a dogfight to get out of the rain. He was already shivering. It was friggin’ cold.
In the dark instant that followed, a shout rose from below. Panicked and shaken, breaking the evening’s casual relaxation as surely as the thump and rattle of a body flinging itself against a door. Between sobbing breaths, faces poked around corners and over couches, as the Morgans each turned surprise and trepidation towards the guest room where the stranger they’d offered a night’s shelter was kicking up such a fuss. “Hey, hey, woah now, it’s only the power’s out, be back on soon’s be, reckon. Easy there, fella.” Three children stared, wide-eyed, as their father reached for the door handle and paused only briefly at the heavy crash behind it.
When he and his wife rushed into the room, they found the kid’s bag left behind, and a broken window. The only thing missing was a china figurine from the mantel, but they found it two days later on the porch. Along with an apologetic note. They didn’t see him again.
***
Thunk!
Brakes screamed shrill protest as the woman’s leg locked straight in panic spurred adrenaline. The truck wobbled, back end drifting, but came to a stop still more or less parallel to the road. Swearing, she looked in the mirror for the deer that had run out in front of her, knowing without wanting to admit it that the hit had been too solid to leave it standing. Wishing they weren’t so fast, wondering where in all hell it had jumped out from. What had it leaping into her way when it could have gone the other and lived?
The shadowy silhouette that slipped up out of the ditch as she finally saw the deer in her rearview mirror was large and eerie in the sudden quiet. Witchfire glow lighting up its eyes as it glanced her way a long moment before turning to the dying deer and dragging it, in a series of sharp tugs, back into the shadows where her lights couldn’t reach.
A wolf? So near the city? More likely a big dog, with surprisingly good timing…. Without really thinking, the woman rolled up her windows before she set off again, and she couldn’t help looking back more than once, but the creature must have hauled the carcass into the ditch by then, out of sight and in the shadows. She’d have to ask someone if wolves often came this way.
***
Old Abe, from up the way, swore he saw some varmint sneaking about near his goat shed, setting the flock into fussing. But when he went and grabbed his gun, wasn’t hide nor hair of it, not a single thing but a footprint. Darndest thing though: looked human. Musta been a bear.
Old man’s eyes aren’t what they used to be.
***
The beautiful day ahead had turned into stormy skies and angry rumbles. He’d known it was coming. He’d smelled the rain on the wind, felt the tension rising. But he’d thought he’d have more time to find some shelter. Trouble was, he didn’t know the area. Hadn’t known where he was almost from the start. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he’d crossed the border yet or was still in Canada. It wasn’t like territories were only a human concept, but rocks and plants definitely didn’t care either way, and he’d mostly been avoiding roads. They’d made walking easier, but they weren’t exactly the safest places when cars came barrelling out of nowhere.
Another few seconds, and that deer he’d been chasing might have gotten off home free, and he’d be the one lying there…
At the time, Addison hadn’t thought about it. He’d been too busy making the most of a good opportunity. Filling his empty stomach. It was only later, replete and satisfied, that his mind had flashed back to that split second’s hesitation and fear he’d felt. To the broken deer, the truck’s taillights flashing bright and swaying as the driver straightened out and kept going after a long, long pause. That could have been him. And even if it wasn’t, a smaller car, or a less experienced driver… Someone else might have died. And it would have been his fault. He didn’t need to risk his own or anyone else’s life more than he already did for a meal. Even if it was probably the only way he’d catch a meal. Better to wash dishes, if it came to that.
Only, that meant following roads again. Well, country roads had less traffic, and slower, usually. So, after a while, he’d found himself another one. Not quite a dirt track, but it hardly looked like it had two lanes, let alone enough to be a highway, and there were plenty of turn-offs here, down long driveways. Dogs had been barking at him from just about every second house for the last two hours. But he’d politely ignored them and kept on. And now, here he was, drenched within seconds by the downpour, daylight suddenly dark as twilight, no public roof in sight, every barn guarded by dogs, and him too shy to go knocking on doors again after the last time.
The memory still made him flush warmly, so, asking for shelter was out as an option. But, before he gave up entirely, Addison decided to give hitchhiking a go. Might get him somewhere he could stay, and let him keep going for a bit, too. Not to mention, if he could ask someone where the hell he was, that would be great. Just as long as the map in his bag, which was currently dribbling a steady stream of somehow colder than the rain rainwater down his back, was still legible. Because otherwise, yeah, he was lost. Not a horrible thing. Wasn’t like he’d been going anywhere to start with, but he was thinking that maybe he should start thinking about that. About having a destination, because sooner or later, he’d hit ocean, and then what? Couldn’t swim that.
Without a goal, there wasn’t much point in moving forward, after a certain point, and he didn’t know what he was looking for. Made him restless, even though he’d been on the move almost every day for the past month.
So, making a miserable picture on the side of the road, sodden, hunched against the wind, dark hair slicked to his head and dripping into his eyes, shorts doing absolutely nothing to keep out the chill, Addison kept on. One soggy shoe in front of the other, hand out whenever he saw light flashing off the water on the road. Three cars in slow succession went on past… One, considerately, went wide so as not to splash him. The thought was nice, but the effort pointless, he was already as wet as you could get. With the light rapidly fading despite it being only mid-afternoon, Addison figured that the rate of traffic might give him two, maybe three more chances before he’d need to ditch the road and risk a dogfight to get out of the rain. He was already shivering. It was friggin’ cold.