Saturday, June 30, 2018

Cloudburst

AUTHOR'S NOTE: An attempt at short fiction using the prompts "weakened, forage, torrential, fire, burden, glimpse." Written in or prior to 2002.




CLOUDBURST


In her current state, she was far too weakened to go much further. Already she had run and walked for what seemed like days, could in fact have been longer. And still the fire, the strange flaming creature with a life of its own, chased her through the forest, alighting upon the trees, burning them to mere cinders within moments. She didn't know what controlled it, or how, or even why. Only that it was coming for her. And it would not stop until she was dead.

She clung her tiny burden to her breast, yet did not consider it a burden. It let out a faint whimper and she clutched her baby more tightly against her body. Her feet stumbled as she went. Her lungs felt ready to turn black from the smoking air that surged behind her. Her eyes watered and tears streamed down her face; it was impossible even to forage for food anymore, with how closely it always followed. She and her child would starve or burn, out here. The roaring blaze would win.

She lifted her head--it felt heavy, as if weighed down with rocks--and squinted her blurry eyes. She could have sworn she'd caught a faint glimpse of something far ahead. A break in the endless trees, many of them ahead of her charred as well. Perhaps the fire had come through here before, which was how it knew the land as it did. Perhaps it had truly killed off the rest of her kind as well. She had not seen another in so long, she began to fear she and her child were the only ones left.

But...what was that, ahead? A break in the trees? A field, a valley? A mountain? A river or a stream?

River. Stream. She knew it could not be, but her pace picked up anyway. Her breath rasped in her chest and her thin hands clutched her precious bundle. Her blackened feet stumbled through the soot. She didn't take her eyes from that strange break far ahead. It gave her strength. It gave her hope.

Behind her, the fire, roused and angry, roared in protest. It surged forward, eager to overtake her. She tripped and nearly fell but kept going, determined. She would not let it win. Not if she were the last one left. Her child would live. She would see to it. She had to survive, for him.

The break neared, closer and closer. Her toes were stubbed and bleeding, ribs heaving. Her child began to cry, a harsh, shrill sound. Still she hurried along, and still the flames roared behind and around her now, tugging at themselves in the hopes of gaining speed, coming up on her sides. She didn't look at them. She looked only ahead at her beacon. The blackened trees parted and the break showed clear now--her heart soared--and then--it sank rapidly again, as she finally saw what she now faced.

The break...it was a break...a great sheer cliff stood before her, dropping dizzyingly down into a gorge hundreds of feet below. Halting abruptly, she peered over to see yet more blackened trees, scorched and charred, dotting the land below, lining a riverbed long gone dry. Despair welled up in her breast, only growing as her child's cries grew. There was nowhere to run now. Nowhere to be safe. Her enemy had won, after all.

She turned at last to face the looming, flaming beast behind her, and shut her eyes as it crackled and bellowed at her expense, closing in around her, burning tendrils singeing her hair. She hugged her baby tight.

Something cold struck her nose and she flinched. Another bit of cold pattered on her arm...and then upon her head...and her foot. One, two, three tiny patters rapidly became one, two, three hundred, then a thousand, then a million. She opened her eyes with surprise as the sky burst open and a torrential flood descended, crashing to the ground, pouring over the great fire as it hissed and shrieked in agony. She watched as the water battered the beast to the ground before her very eyes, slickening and muddying the earth, leaving nothing but a great black swath and a smoky whimper where once her tormentor had stood.

Eyes wide and face pale, she cradled her child close, and turned her face upward into the cleansing rain.

No comments:

Post a Comment