Escaping the situation (short story based upon the daily prompt; Pluck)


I found myself surrounded, no matter what direction i looked in, no matter what turn I took i just couldn’t escape them, is this what it all came down too?

My life till this point had been nothing more then breadcrumbs leading to more breadcrumbs for months now, I’d follow the signs to what was ment to be a new haven, a new start for all of us that decided that leaving the planet wasn’t going to be the solution to the catastrophes that unfolded within the last year, we say the ‘last year’ but we haven’t measured time since the clouds blackened out all but the dimist rays of light that broke on through,

A bullet whistles past my head skimming me by mere millimetres, having survived near starvation myself and watching the people i loved succumb to malnutrition and the sickness was my last act on this godforsaken earth going to be getting killed for literally the shoes I had on my feet, a worn down pair of running shoes may not sound like the most luxurious item but stumbling across them what must have been 8 solar shadows ago (this was the timescale we used to work out the safest time to travel, when the solar shadows would arch up into the sky we would seek refuse wherever possible) had enabled me to make haste across the terrain without the fear of damaging what was now my greatest asset, my ability to just keep on walking, many times I wanted to give up but something inside me just wouldn’t allow it, there has too more then this left? Surely?

Finally I slumped to the floor, it wasn’t a gunshot that felled me but the sense that maybe it was finally my time, I couldn’t give anything more, what else could I do, my story, a story that needed to be told, would stop here in the middle of a rundown old town, I could feel the tears running down my face, I could feel the noose slowly tighten its grip on me…..

Then Nothing, nothing happened, the silence, that’s what hit me, I’d heard rustling, ramblings but now not even the wind dare speak my name, I raised my head, about 100 yards away all I could see was the bodies of two young men, could barely be 20, suddenly I hear the sound that could only be the cocking of a gun, I slowly turn round…

“I can either save you or shoot you, but I’d prefer to not have to waste anymore bullets”


* an extract from the Diary of Harrison Connolly, who was plucked to safety after encountering some rebels shortly before the Riverbed Wars and Water riots decimated half of the country.






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