Guests of the peninsular (a short story)

It has been an interesting week and weekend here on the Capricorn Coast; flooding rain, cyclonic winds, extended periods of no electricity, or external world communications. Flood waters are still making their way down the river catchments, as is happening also in the major part of the state of Queensland.

The prompt for this short story, which is not finished yet came from Friday night, lying in bed watching my other half’s black cat sitting on the windowsill at the open window, waiting for her to come home. The power had gone off that day so hence the flashing alarm clock, the rest is fiction as the rain had eased off that afternoon. The story is intended to be the telling of a story in three different ways, by three different characters, yet to be introduced. (this may sound familiar to some, well it just slotted together with the visual prompt and the weather conditions during the week)… Happy reading, although it be but a short one at the moment!

Guests of the peninsular

As he lay there in bed, the alarm clock flashing 3am, but who knew the real time, as the power had gone out earlier that night. Lying there, just staring out past the black cat sitting on the windowsill at the open window. Both peering out into the space beyond the teaming rain, as the lightning flashes and the thunder cracks their merry dance.

To Creek, the sweet sounds of the storm that he fell asleep to some hours before lull for just the briefest of moments, a faint voice pricks his ears. Creek rubs his eyes, unsure if he is awake or dreaming. And there it is again. A call for help of some kind, Creek thinks, a voice in any case. Bouncing to his feet, as the black cat darts back into the room from the open window, Creek takes a close look out the window, straining his ears to detect the voice in the storm.

Throwing some clothes and a pair of boots on quickly, he grabs his all weather coat, flood lamp, and his remote location medical kit as he heads out the door thinking, who would be out this wild weather on a remote peninsular in the middle of nowhere almost. Stopping under the covered roof of the gated entrance to the yard, Creek looks around trying to decipher the direction of the voice amongst the rain, thunder, and wind.

With the flood light turned on, Creek begins to do a sweep from left to right, when he hears a number of voices yelling through the downpour. Turning the light in the direction of the shouts, Creek can make out three shadowed figures’, he sets off in their direction.

As Creek gets closer, he can see a fourth figure lying on the ground in the rain and mud, with two of the other figures kneeling over them…

 

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