via Daily Prompt: Relieved
[Extract from Mission of the Unwilling]
Tails yelled from the car. “Liesel! Al! Where are you guys? Time to move it.”
Liesel and Al ran to the car.
I yanked a leafy branch, and then dropped to the ground. Using the branch as cover, I crawled across the clearing. Then jumped into the boot of the car.
Liesel scanned the scene. She then prodded the backpacks in the boot and whispered.
“Why are you in there?”
“Well, where else would I go?”
“What? With the LP gas tank?”
“Better that, than being shot and killed by Tails.”
“I heard them talking on the beach—they want to kill me.”
Tails hollered from the driver’s seat. “What’s taking you so long? Who you talking to?”
Liesel yelled back. “Me. Myself. And I.” She piled packs over me and then slammed the lid shut.
My dark enclosure began to rattle and jolt. The shock absorbers had long gone and a saccharine odour seeped from the LP gas tank.
In Liesel’s haste, a bag strap had tangled in the lock, with the result that the boot yawned and banged with each bump. I held the cover down and pressed my nose against the gaps sniffing in fresh oxygen. Still, the fumes over-powered me.
I surrendered to the sweet smell and, dizzy, all my worries flew away. So did the two bazookas. I rolled them out as we crossed the stream. Not keen on Tails or Maggie blowing me to bits and taking half the neighbourhood with the blast.
Later, I decided the boxes of bazooka ammunition should go too. As the hatch flew open, I tossed them. They landed with a decisive thud, then a series of cracks and bangs like fireworks as they hit the flinty stone. Not such a clever idea.
Tails said, “Al, ‘and me a rifle.”
“I’ve got mine,” Maggie said.
“Youse lot stay in the car. We’ll see wot’s going on.”
The car lurched to a stop.
The doors creaked.
One slam. Then another slam.
Their shoes crunched on pebbles.
I squeezed up against the back of the boot. Pushing the packs in front and over me, I tried to be as lifeless as a pack.
The river swished and gurgled.
The hatch yawned open and two gun barrels stared at me.
Damn! I forgot about the .303 and the .22. But obviously Tails didn’t forget to include them in the luggage.
© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2015
Photo: Sellicks Beach—Where the Story Begins © Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2015
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