The car slid in the mud, then suddenly stopped. Then the world surged upward in an explosion of suction and silence.
Later, Charlie would think that “suddenly” was not the right word for an event that simultaneously slowed and surged; too fast to stop her head from slamming into the side window glass, enough time to flinch despite suspecting that would make the impact worse.
“Urrrgh.” She found herself out of the vehicle, resting in what might qualify as a muddy patch of faded purple grass, if one were generous. She wondered if the cool soggy earth would ease the pain in her neck and chest. Groggily, she realized the car’s vehicle straps must have at least partially worked.
“Bu’ler.” Charlie tried the word, then spat out a combination of blood and mud. “Butler.”
“I’m here,” came the voice from behind her. She turned to find him on slightly more solid ground, studying the nearby treeline. Her ruck and weapon rested against his, which was better than Charlie had expected. “We hit a rock. Then the rock exploded.”
“I noticed something – mmrgh – of the sort,” she croaked slowly. Her back twinged in odd places as she struggled to her feet. Boots helped little with the lack of traction. Cold seeped anew through her knees before she staggered to his side. “Supply run turned survival test?”
“No,” Butler said slowly. “Supply run still expected, I think. With your disgusting hot dogs and other chow as incentive. Provided we make it through the survival test, that is.” He pointed to a hazy dot at the bottom of a cliff, surrounded by smudges of deep green and blue. “Think you can make it toward that cave?”
She bared her teeth. “Forget the cave. I can make it to wherever the hot dogs are.”
***
This week’s prompt was from nother Mike: The car slid in the mud, and then suddenly stopped…
Mine went to Parrish Baker: Bright blue tears streaked her face with fury.
Find them all, over at MOTE!
