Guests of the peninsular (cont…)

Here is a bit of a story being worked, it’s taking its time as I am still unsure where it is going, or what’s going to happen, but it all started waking up in an empty bed to a storm at 3am, with my better half’s black cat staring out the open window into the lightning, wind, and rain. So I had a place to start… and the story, well it’s evolving, ever so slow… Read on please.

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.

“What’s up, everyone okay?” Creek asks loudly as clap of thunder almost drowns out his question.

“Great, you’ve got a kit. What do you have in it?” comes a female voice from one of the rain-drenched figures kneeling on the ground.

“It’s a full remote location kit, same as what you’d find being used in warzones and remote areas around the world.” runs the response from Creek as he breaks the kit open.

“Hurry up, now, we need to get out of here. They might be still following us,” yells another female voice from the figure still standing, as she acts agitated, looking back behind the group with a machete in their left hand.

“Just wait up, Skye, let us plug up some of the holes in Glenn, and close the gapping slash on his leg, then we’ll move,” shouts the other kneeling figure in a female voice.

“Hi! I’m Trees, that’s Suz.”

“And that’s Skye, with the machete.” Skye forces a smile through her wet hair across her face.

“What medical experience you got?” asks Trees, as both her and Creek rifle through the medical kit for what they require to patch Glenn up in order to move him.

“Ex-paramedic now turned caretaker for remote properties,” responds Creek as he picks the lamp up and hands it to Sky.

The three work quickly to stop as much of  Glenn’s bleeding as possible, while Sky holds the light as she continually glances back behind, hoping what ever has been following them is not approaching.

As Trees and Suz, finish stemming as much of the blood flow, Creek breaks out the collapsible stretcher poles and webbing. Quickly they bundle Glenn on to the stretcher and make for the direction of the towering stone edifice that Creek is currently caretaking.

As they enter the great door of the building, the sounds of the storm instantly dissipate a little.

“This way, into the hall here.” Soon they are in a hall with a long table and fireplace to the side that is still glowing with warmth. They place Glenn up on the table, as then Creek quickly lights the lamps in the room. Skye closes the door, bolts, and slides the timber bar across to secure the entrance.

“Don’t worry, I have absolutely no idea what I would do with this if I had too, and no, I didn’t cut Glenn’s leg,” says Skye, waving the machete around in the air.

Trees and Suz start removing Glenn’s clothes to take a closer look at his wounds, check his vital signs, and examine for further wounds.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Miss, just going to get some water and some further medical supplies. How’s your friend?”

“Hey, the name’s Trees! That’s fine, we’ve got things covered here for the moment, but can you get a move on, we need to clean his wounds up and patch Glenn up properly.”

A short time pass since Creek leaves the room, while the storm picks up in ferocity, parts of the grand old building begin to groan to its call.

“What was that?”

“Just the old house feeling the torment of the storm, Skye… Trees, Glenn’s coming too.”

“What happened?” Glenn attempts to get up, but fails due to the state of his injuries, as Trees, and Suz urge him with some force to stop him from moving. Glen passes out unconscious again.

“Hey, where’s that Creek fella? How long does it take to find more medical supplies?”

“Skye, can’t you see this is a big place, plus, he’s only just the caretaker here.”

“Suz, give up, and Skye, hold on, Creek will be back before too long.”

The storm lulls for a few moments, just enough for the sounds of footsteps to echo a strange way through the building, just as Creek appears from a side stairway with more medical supplies and sterilised water. The echo stops, while the fury within the tempest begins to thunder, and light up the night air again. He hands the supplies of to Trees, whom immediately finishes cleaning up the slash on Glenn’s leg and stitches it up while he is still out to the world. Creek and Suz, check out the other wounds to Glenn’s body, while waiting for Trees to finish stitching the leg.

Whispering so that Skye cannot hear the conversation, “While upstairs grabbing the supplies, outside I noticed you’ve been follow…”

“Skye, away from the door!” yells Trees… “Quick, what weapons do you have here?”

Just as Skye steps to the side, an explosion rips in an instant through the heavy timber doors with their bolt, sending splinters, chunks of wood, and steel into the room as the percussive blast hits Tree’s Creek, and Suz, throwing them up against the far wall like rag dolls in a storm of confetti.

Holding the machete in her left hand, Skye backs up fast against the wall, the one nearest the doorway minus its door. Waiting while all the debris settles to the floor in a map of carnage. There’s a long pause of inflicted silence in Skye’s ears, as she waits, and waits, for her fear to make their entrance…

3 responses to “Guests of the peninsular (cont…)

  1. Pingback: Welcome to a new friend: Sean Bidd | Hey Sweetheart, Get Me Rewrite!·

  2. Pingback: Short stories update | Sean Bidd·

  3. Pingback: Guests of the peninsular (in flight) | Sean Bidd·

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