Post by nrt on Mar 24, 2014 11:47:12 GMT -8
OK,
Inspired by my recent post in the 'Make me Read On' thread, I have started a story.
Saviour
NRT
A Beginning
They had to wait, the road was blocked. A tractor pulling a trailer burgeoning with a tower-block sized load of straw bales was stuck, attempting some manoeuvre, they guessed...
Though this was an inconvenience, there were no complaints, there was no rush. A moment of stillness to savour again the after-glow of a really good lunch, the dazzling sky… So they waited, air-con on, radio playing.
He scanned the hedgerow that towered over the car on his side of the narrow lane. There was a field of stubble beyond. Through some gaps in the hawthorn and beach, still in its full, lush, summer livery, there were glimpses a gently sloping hillside and, some distance further on, another hedge. Beyond this was a scrubby meadow with a scatter of grassy tussocks, which appeared to surround a dense copse that crowned the skyline. He looked again into the shimmering, sunlit field. Harvest time and he had seen an image of England that few, if any, would have seen from that vantage point on the quite lane...
“Come on we can go!” his partner announced almost sharply; their wait could have been over.
But, as he went to put the car into gear, he cast a glance back, for one last look, flicked his eyes over the scene, intending only to look up again to that dark fringe of trees around the top of the hill.
It is truly shocking how rapidly a brain can, subconsciously, pick out a sound, a shape or a smell, isolate it from the background and generate some sort of alarm. His brain did this now and the alarm physically jolted him. It ordered him stop everything and look, right now, only at that…
Although his subconscious had recognised it in a heartbeat, it took his higher senses a little longer to process what he was actually looking at.
It was a slender, heavily tattooed, forearm, emerging into the sunlight from the deep shade at bottom of the hedge.
“Oh… my…”
“What?”
“There’s something in the hedge….” he said ‘something’ even though he knew exactly what it was, “Wait there a second.”
Stepping from the car, though intending to walk nearer and take a proper look, he did not go any further. Instead he was doubled over by another, more guttural alarm; this had him turning away, grasping at the open door for support and retching; first because of the sight he had seen, but mostly, because of the smell.
One Week Earlier
The car slid to a perfect stop and purred briefly before returning the clearing to a brooding silence. Its headlights picked out three masked and hooded men, supporting a girl, bound, gagged, legs incapable of bearing any weight. Her tear-streaked eyes, blinking against the pain of the brightness, were pleading; "Help me!"
He moved out of the car with a speed and grace that few could match. He just effortlessly covered the rough ground, his purple cloak low over his face and sweeping the grass, yet disturbing nothing.
“She is prepared?” he asked in a voice low and even.
“Almost saviour…
An hand shot out like a striking rattlesnake and grabbed the throat of the man who had spoken. The other two flinched away, allowing the girl to tumble to the floor.
“You have had three days! Almost! Almost ready… it must be done tonight!”
The convulsions of the man made it obvious that no explanation would be forthcoming while he was being strangled so thoroughly. He released his grip with a shove that sent his disciple sprawling back into the bushes around the edge of the clearing.
“Pick that up and put it in my car, now!” he barked to the two disciples still standing, “then tell me exactly which of your tasks you have failed to accomplish, and, more importantly, why?”
The boot lid of the car swung open as the men carried the helpless girl around the side of the vehicle. Inside the boot was entirely lined with flawless cloth-of-gold that shone with an undulating lustre by the glow of the courtesy light. He shooed the two away and then pulled back his hood to look down at the girl shivering there.
“You will make NO noise...
"You will NOT struggle...
"Then; you Will survive.
"Do you understand?”
She just lay there quaking, wide eyes staring back at his silhouette framed in the moonlight, looking for all the world like she would scream herself to death, if she could just get out a sound. Silently, from within the folds of his cloak, he produced a soft leather flask with a silver stopper. Opening it then reaching down to raise her head, he offered the liquid within to her. His hand was strong but warm, the top of the flask cold against her parched lips. A drop touched her eager tongue and she immediately fell back onto the gold cloth in a dead, contented, sleep.
He slammed the boot of the car and turned to the men, all three of whom were now standing there lamely.
“Now quickly; tell me everything!”
Inspired by my recent post in the 'Make me Read On' thread, I have started a story.
Saviour
NRT
A Beginning
They had to wait, the road was blocked. A tractor pulling a trailer burgeoning with a tower-block sized load of straw bales was stuck, attempting some manoeuvre, they guessed...
Though this was an inconvenience, there were no complaints, there was no rush. A moment of stillness to savour again the after-glow of a really good lunch, the dazzling sky… So they waited, air-con on, radio playing.
He scanned the hedgerow that towered over the car on his side of the narrow lane. There was a field of stubble beyond. Through some gaps in the hawthorn and beach, still in its full, lush, summer livery, there were glimpses a gently sloping hillside and, some distance further on, another hedge. Beyond this was a scrubby meadow with a scatter of grassy tussocks, which appeared to surround a dense copse that crowned the skyline. He looked again into the shimmering, sunlit field. Harvest time and he had seen an image of England that few, if any, would have seen from that vantage point on the quite lane...
“Come on we can go!” his partner announced almost sharply; their wait could have been over.
But, as he went to put the car into gear, he cast a glance back, for one last look, flicked his eyes over the scene, intending only to look up again to that dark fringe of trees around the top of the hill.
It is truly shocking how rapidly a brain can, subconsciously, pick out a sound, a shape or a smell, isolate it from the background and generate some sort of alarm. His brain did this now and the alarm physically jolted him. It ordered him stop everything and look, right now, only at that…
Although his subconscious had recognised it in a heartbeat, it took his higher senses a little longer to process what he was actually looking at.
It was a slender, heavily tattooed, forearm, emerging into the sunlight from the deep shade at bottom of the hedge.
“Oh… my…”
“What?”
“There’s something in the hedge….” he said ‘something’ even though he knew exactly what it was, “Wait there a second.”
Stepping from the car, though intending to walk nearer and take a proper look, he did not go any further. Instead he was doubled over by another, more guttural alarm; this had him turning away, grasping at the open door for support and retching; first because of the sight he had seen, but mostly, because of the smell.
* * *
One Week Earlier
The car slid to a perfect stop and purred briefly before returning the clearing to a brooding silence. Its headlights picked out three masked and hooded men, supporting a girl, bound, gagged, legs incapable of bearing any weight. Her tear-streaked eyes, blinking against the pain of the brightness, were pleading; "Help me!"
He moved out of the car with a speed and grace that few could match. He just effortlessly covered the rough ground, his purple cloak low over his face and sweeping the grass, yet disturbing nothing.
“She is prepared?” he asked in a voice low and even.
“Almost saviour…
An hand shot out like a striking rattlesnake and grabbed the throat of the man who had spoken. The other two flinched away, allowing the girl to tumble to the floor.
“You have had three days! Almost! Almost ready… it must be done tonight!”
The convulsions of the man made it obvious that no explanation would be forthcoming while he was being strangled so thoroughly. He released his grip with a shove that sent his disciple sprawling back into the bushes around the edge of the clearing.
“Pick that up and put it in my car, now!” he barked to the two disciples still standing, “then tell me exactly which of your tasks you have failed to accomplish, and, more importantly, why?”
The boot lid of the car swung open as the men carried the helpless girl around the side of the vehicle. Inside the boot was entirely lined with flawless cloth-of-gold that shone with an undulating lustre by the glow of the courtesy light. He shooed the two away and then pulled back his hood to look down at the girl shivering there.
“You will make NO noise...
"You will NOT struggle...
"Then; you Will survive.
"Do you understand?”
She just lay there quaking, wide eyes staring back at his silhouette framed in the moonlight, looking for all the world like she would scream herself to death, if she could just get out a sound. Silently, from within the folds of his cloak, he produced a soft leather flask with a silver stopper. Opening it then reaching down to raise her head, he offered the liquid within to her. His hand was strong but warm, the top of the flask cold against her parched lips. A drop touched her eager tongue and she immediately fell back onto the gold cloth in a dead, contented, sleep.
He slammed the boot of the car and turned to the men, all three of whom were now standing there lamely.
“Now quickly; tell me everything!”
