Hold Her Tight
First published in "Daily Flash 2011: 365 Days of Flash Fiction." Currently in print, non-exclusive rights.
Amos raises his gun up over his head so that the muzzle is sticking out the corner of the window; he is crouched behind it. He fires blindly, not willing to risk standing up.
Outside all is blackness. He hears maniacal laughing—laughing at him and his aimless shooting—coming from all sides, and echoing through the forest around his cabin.
Amos jumps to his feet and fires four shots in succession, before he hears the cracking of guns from out in the darkness and the thwack of bullets striking wood behind him, and he dives back down onto the floor.
“Daddy! Daddy! What’s happening?!”
“Shhhh! Be quiet! Be quiet! Elijah, you keep your sister quiet. Ya hear me boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
The gun shots die out, only to be replaced by blood-curdling yells swirling in the air around the cabin.
Amos is about to jump up and fire again, when he stops dead. The cries have ceased as if on command, replaced now by a single scream, distinctly female.
Amos crawls over to his children and grasps them in his arms, squeezing them close to him. There is a faint glow coming from the window, like a fire has been set somewhere nearby. As the glow grows the scream intensifies, continuing for minutes on end, until it reaches its apex and slowly dies away.
“You hold her now boy. Hold her tight.”
Amos crawls back to the window, gets up on his knees and peers out. He can’t see the fire, but he can see the light from it dancing on the leaves and branches high in the air overhead. Oh so faintly he sees solitary specks of light out in the black. As he watches, these lights slowly get larger, growing into flames that steadily move closer toward the cabin. He lowers his gun and fires, aiming once directly at the flame, once to the left, and then once to the right—all in a rapid burst.
Amos pauses. Still the flame advances. He turns and fires madly at the other approaching flames, but they continue on as well.
Then, once again in unison, all stop. Silence reigns for nearly a full minute, before the blood-curdling yells spring up as the flames fly through the darkness. Amos can hear each one as it strikes his cabin.
Flames shoot up in front of the window making a solid wall of fire, and begin to pour through it into the cabin, creeping out along the walls. Amos dives away from the window, lunging for the door. As his hand touches it he lets out an involuntary shriek. He pulls back hard, leaving the scorched skin of his palm behind, stuck to the burning door.
Amos drops back to the ground and crawls through the smoke to his children, grasping them again in his arms.
“You hold your sister, boy. Hold her tight now.”
THE END
Amos raises his gun up over his head so that the muzzle is sticking out the corner of the window; he is crouched behind it. He fires blindly, not willing to risk standing up.
Outside all is blackness. He hears maniacal laughing—laughing at him and his aimless shooting—coming from all sides, and echoing through the forest around his cabin.
Amos jumps to his feet and fires four shots in succession, before he hears the cracking of guns from out in the darkness and the thwack of bullets striking wood behind him, and he dives back down onto the floor.
“Daddy! Daddy! What’s happening?!”
“Shhhh! Be quiet! Be quiet! Elijah, you keep your sister quiet. Ya hear me boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
The gun shots die out, only to be replaced by blood-curdling yells swirling in the air around the cabin.
Amos is about to jump up and fire again, when he stops dead. The cries have ceased as if on command, replaced now by a single scream, distinctly female.
Amos crawls over to his children and grasps them in his arms, squeezing them close to him. There is a faint glow coming from the window, like a fire has been set somewhere nearby. As the glow grows the scream intensifies, continuing for minutes on end, until it reaches its apex and slowly dies away.
“You hold her now boy. Hold her tight.”
Amos crawls back to the window, gets up on his knees and peers out. He can’t see the fire, but he can see the light from it dancing on the leaves and branches high in the air overhead. Oh so faintly he sees solitary specks of light out in the black. As he watches, these lights slowly get larger, growing into flames that steadily move closer toward the cabin. He lowers his gun and fires, aiming once directly at the flame, once to the left, and then once to the right—all in a rapid burst.
Amos pauses. Still the flame advances. He turns and fires madly at the other approaching flames, but they continue on as well.
Then, once again in unison, all stop. Silence reigns for nearly a full minute, before the blood-curdling yells spring up as the flames fly through the darkness. Amos can hear each one as it strikes his cabin.
Flames shoot up in front of the window making a solid wall of fire, and begin to pour through it into the cabin, creeping out along the walls. Amos dives away from the window, lunging for the door. As his hand touches it he lets out an involuntary shriek. He pulls back hard, leaving the scorched skin of his palm behind, stuck to the burning door.
Amos drops back to the ground and crawls through the smoke to his children, grasping them again in his arms.
“You hold your sister, boy. Hold her tight now.”
THE END