Tag Archives: escape

302. Our lives depended on it

Our lives depended on it, so we ran, through bushes, through hedges, through thorns, until our feet were more scar than flesh. We ran from the dogs’ barks, distant but closing in. If we looked back, we could probably see their foaming mouths. But look back we’d sworn we never would. Never again.

Ezekiel knew the way. He had fled before. Or tried. We’d have to reach the abandoned gate on the river bank. There we could swim to our freedom.

Between the withered trees the white stone gateway summoned us. We sprinted as fast our shackles would allow us. Every bone in our body, every muscle hurt. But we felt no pain. We could smell a long desired freedom. We could taste it.

Only when we walked through the gate, crying for joy, did we notice the dinghy on the river and Mister Boss, cocking his gun.

Freedom, while it lasted, would taste as sweet as freshly drawn blood.

 

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169. She had smuggled

She had smuggled drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, firearms, even counterfeit Mickey Mouse figurines across the American-Canadian border but, after plying her trade for twenty years, Noemi Trudeau now would make her boldest attempt: smuggling herself across.

Noemi did not do this just to set herself a challenge. No, she needed to get out of Canada. Quickly. Problem was of course that the usual smuggling routes were no longer an option, since they were being closely watched by both the police and the hoodlums she had rubbed the wrong way. She’d have to find a new path across the border, one both ingenious and easy to navigate.

After carefully considering the options, Noemi’s eye fell on a small river that ran across the Miller’s farm, a vast piece of land that lay partly on Canadian, partly on US soil. The current was quite strong in the stream but not strong enough to do damage to the watertight vessel she would use to transport herself to the safe side of the border.

Under the veil of a pitch dark night the seasoned smuggler would push the barrel into the water, climb in and seal the unusual mode transportation from within. Noemi calculated that the crossing would take about thirty minutes. In that time she would have no clue about where she was, whether she was moving at pace at all of if she had overshot her desired landing area, in which case a fifty feet drop from a waterfall lay in waiting.

Right there she realised her smuggling days were truly over. Not because she was on the run. But because she had allowed herself to smuggle such a ridiculous escape plan into her head she almost thought it could succeed.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

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163. Their entire world

Their entire world had gathered around the black corpse now, as a 19th Century physician cut open its chest and debated its anatomy with half a dozen colleagues.

They were perplexed that – bar the colour of his skin – the man on the table was physiologically identical to them. He was not, as they had thought after murdering him upon first sighting, a demon. But where had he come from? And why?

The mystery had them arguing the most magical of explanations until a young man emerged from the shadows and pointed upwards, to the luminous hole in the ceiling that had watched over them for all existence.

“What if it isn’t just a light source,” he said. “What if it’s a portal?”

Soon ladders were being built, ropes were being flung and adventurers found their courage.

And thus was ushered in the Age if Discovery for the inhabitants of the living history boxes on the shelves of the 12-year-old’s room.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

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