Running, no backing off

The world it changes fast. Here I am, being told before the year has barely started, “At the end of it, you’re on your own, disowned, expect nothing.” That is it, why bother with another year. The reaction came swift, say nothing, and trade my pack of books for a pack of clothes, and some tins of food, well just a few, no time to be caught travelling heavy. Ah, made it, just in time to catch the bus, for it will give me 30 miles on home, a 50 minute journey along a highway with stops, it resembled more of a goat track than the major road it’s supposed to be, but that’s governments for you.

Finally stepping off the bus, make a left turn, and start heading south, out to the back country where the family for a hundred years had in the possession a stretch of land caught up in the sandstone highlands. But no more, the family sold up everyone’s moved on to bigger and brighter places. It’s a good place to start, spend a few weeks there, then make my way to the top end. First I need some transport, mmm, should I hitch a ride, or borrow a bike, just til I make it past the thirty mile long open cut coal mine. Someone just pulled up on their dirt bike, no time, they stepped off, and I am on and gone. No helmet, I’ve got maybe five minutes to make it across the highway, and rail line on the other side of town.

Flat out, no backing off here, flying across the highway in just a couple of minutes, hell, just missed that truck, now clear of town over the rail line. Doing the thirty miles of road flat stick, who needs to worry about overtaking when one can undertake, just gotta watch out for the guideposts. Thirty miles and here’s the mighty left hand bend, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel as the sealed road vanishes behind me. Soon old thick Rosewood forests cause the road to narrow, “What now.” The bike starts to splutter, I reach down to flick between main and reserve. No luck it was already on reserve, and the main tank was empty,. He we go, best stop all together, wheeling the bike into the scrub as far as I can, laid it on its side in a small patch of long grass. Back to the road, I need to keep moving, can’t risk hitching now, best stay to the fringes of the road, at least till I get to the edge of the Rosa.

It’s been a long walk so far, still a few cans of food left in the pack, been grabbing water from creeks along the way, and bush foods that Old Will showed me were okay to eat, been storing any excess in the washed out empty cans, and eating as I walk. Most stay fresh for two or three days, needed to rob a native beehive the other morning, it was a treat. Time to push on here along the fringe of the Sal Rosa, but now I’m a long way from home now, and I thinking sometimes is this such a good idea.

Multiple loud shots ring out along the Rosa, I feel them tear the air as they pass me by, dropping to the ground I crawl as fast as I can from where I once stood. I must of kept low for a good mile or two, this is crazy, I’m getting back to the road, then grab any ride I can to make it to the Reach, or the Isa. After scrambling for six hours, finally made it to the road, it’s been dark for an hour or so now, so I walk the road making for the North-West. Eventually a set of headlights from behind light up the road in front of me, I can hear them slowing down. Do I stay by the road, or do I run…

Written for Kellie Elmore’s, Free Write Friday, to find fellow writer’s submissions, or to read some of Kellie’s work, just follow the link or click the image above. Not sure what the character above is running from, other than that they’ve been told they no longer belong. What lead to them no longer belonging, only the character knows the answer…

14 responses to “Running, no backing off

    • I think it was about 60km via the dirt bike, and about 150km on foot so far. Yes it was kind of paced a little on the quick side, so I think he’s feeling a bit tired now…

  1. I REALLY like this, but I must confess, it is hard to read white-on-black background for me. I find my mind growing distracted. That being said, I can picture the journey, the landscape, the emotion. Well done.

    • Ah, that’s so I can fall asleep at 2am while in the middle of writing, not as bright… Thanks xx, I think he covered it to fast, and is feeling a little tired, as there is just a lot of bush, and the open road. Not much of company, or warmth… Cheers.

  2. What a journey. I have to admit I find white text on a black background hard to read too. All the same it is a dramatic tale and I hope the poor fellow is safe. 🙂

    • It is, something good has to come his way soon, but who knows what the headlights hold for him. The text and background are so I can write till I drop, no, just less bright at night. Which is when I usually get the chance to visit here. I hope he stays safe too…

  3. I agree with Dorothy. I could feel his exhaustion. My heart was racing as I read and then the conclusion with a decision to be made… yeah. Fabulous read!!!

    • Cheers Kellie… Definitely tired, and certainly a little wired after finding bullets ripping past himself, not sure what his mind might decide… Thank you!!!

    • Any number of things may of caused shots to be fired. He may of been mistaken for a feral animal, or some where close by at the time. Maybe if he was spotted, a property/station owner thought he was up to no good in some way on his land, and let go some warning shots. Or at the extreme outside, the owner of the dirt bike he stole, has been tracking him (while the law lost the trail, or where never notified of the theft in the first place) for some reason… He might be is some considerable danger if that’s the case.

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