Once again, I was along and on the run - well, kind of on the run. Actually, I was sitting in a chairlift heading up this gigantic mountain. A few chairs behind me, my attackers steadied their guns. A strong wind swept the chairs from side to side, almost throwing me off. This place was old - I doubted it’d been used in years - and the cable was loose around the track. Somehow, I’d gotten it to work… how, was a miracle. But here I was, one hundred meters above ground with nothing protecting me from the guns behind me besides open air and a thin metal seat.
I looked back just as the first shot rang out. I jumped back and the shot punctured the metal a few centimeters away from my arm. Relief was short-lived as I felt the chair slide backwards.
I looked up. Above me, the cable had just started to go back upwards, meeting the post 8 meters ahead. The chairs were designed to tilt back and forth, to stop the customer of this long gone ski resort from falling out when the cable drooped down. But now the top of the chair was rusted, and the grip not tight enough to hold on to the cable.
I slid back some more. A terrifying thought of me and the Bishop’s trainees battling it out in mid air, both stuck in the middle came into my head. No, no, no. That couldn’t happen. There were two of them, each with their own supplies of guns and knives. I was alone with one knife. It wasn’t rocket science about who would win, even with my skill in fighting.
I needed to make the chair lighter. I looked over at my pack. Food, water and spare clothes. I didn’t need all of that stuff, right? Quickly, I unloaded some of the water and food, along with a few clothes. They tumbled below me and I looked down for some marking. Maybe I could go find them again later.
A rock jutted out of a steep cliff face below, and a pair of pants looped around the peak. Perfect, I thought, then turned my attention back to the chairlift. It’d made steady progress, climbing slowly but surely uphill for a few meters now.
But what worried me was the cable. It seemed to be derailing from the track above. Already, two of the wheels had lost the cable and were slowly rolling still. As I watched, horror-stricken, the third wheel let go of the cable. The drop was hardly noticeable with the wind, stick rocking the chair back and forth.
But there was nothing I could do.
Quickly, I checked behind. The wind had caught the Trainees off-guard and they were having trouble setting up the sniper they had chosen to use. It wasn’t the smartest choice of gun - even a hand-held would have a better chance of getting me - but I realized that they were playing. Smiles shone on their faces as they looked up at me.
They knew they would get me before the chairlift was over. They were taking their time, creating a story to tell their friends once they got home. I shot a man out of a chairlift with a sniper. I could hear them already, bragging.
Solid jerk. Only one wheel remained, and it didn’t look like it’d remain for long. As soon as the last wheel let go, the whole cable would fall until it was caught by the remaining ones beside. It was going to get pretty scary. I wrapped my arms around the seat and armrest, and hugged onto my lifebag with all my might.
Drop.
Fall.
Caught.
The sudden jerk stopped my dreamlike fall with a halt. Chairs ahead and behind slid closer to me, suddenly the middle of a steep v in the already swooping line.
A chair crashed into my knees. Immobilized by pain, I stayed stationary. Slowly, I tried to move my foot.
I could move it. Great. I pushed the chair away and used my hands to help my legs up onto the seat of the chair.
Another fall. The post ahead of me let go of the cable. The weight of the chairs caused the loose cable to be pulled through.
I ended up about 10 meters from the ground. Enough to jump? I hoped so. Quickly, I tied my bag to my legs, hoping the added weight would ensure my safe landing on the ground head-first. I planned to do a somersault to take the impact and avoid my legs getting hurt even more. Already, my body killed.
I jumped, freefalling through the air until I hit the ground, right on target. The soft, lush green forest of young trees and ferns had overtaken an old ski hill, and the added padding made the impact somewhat lighter.
I was still blinded with pain. Eyes closed, I rolled in the direction I hoped was towards the forest. A few shots splattered the ground above me, and I think one of them shaved off some skin on my torso.
But I made it. The cool earth of the forest was moist against my cheek and I lay there for minutes, just waiting for the pain to subside. Call it a weakness, but I didn’t like to be in pain. It wasn’t a nice feeling.
But a few moments later I knew I needed to get back up again. The Trainees were, no doubt, bound to follow me, and the longer I stayed here the longer I risked being seen. I started to jog, slowly, making sure to be careful about how I put my weight on my knees.
I worked my way diagonally across the mountain. I went down, hoping they would think that was the easy way and think a pro like me would go up - but super pros like me go down.
After about twenty minutes of running, I hit another hill. This one had a chairlift too, but only a small one. It did, however, have a very nice landing with a very nice bike resting against a bench.
I grabbed the bike, knowing two things for sure.
One: There were at least 3 other people on this mountain.
Two: Someone was going to be very mad that I stole their bike.
It was almost a perfect fit - maybe a little bit too small, but I had a habit of standing up on bikes anyways.
I rode away. The bike was top quality - disc brakes (which were perfect for mud) a sweet odometer to check my speed, back and front suspension and an awesomely durable but light frame. Across the middle bar, a name had been messily drawn in front of the brand name. Tyson.
Yes, I included my bike - but hey, I'm the writer! I can do whatever I want... and anyways, the whole bike riding scene will be pretty cool.
Anyways, how'd you like that? It takes place partway through the book (I skipped, lol). If you have any questions ask me!
5 comments:
Wow. I feel jealous. How much my teachers "brag" on me writing abilities (snicker) I cant write nearly as good as this...must be the AIG program..blech.
"Call it a weakness, but I didn’t like to be in pain. It wasn’t a nice feeling."
love that one XD
Thanks!! But don't be jelous.. at least your not sick out of your mind right now (seriously, I'm ready to rip my sould from my body to get out of this).
And my teacher sorta brags... he just told most of the teachers he knows/know me :P.
hmmm.... pretty good! haha thats cool you put in your own bike, I love it when authors put in real life things for them into their stories! =)
oh and sorry I haven't commented here lately... *blushes* have been really busy, but I'm to have more free time, so I'll probably be commenting more often ;)
Hey sarah i was WONDERing which mountains this piece of the story takes place in. I like this part the best out of all of what i've read, i think its very well written, but, i think it would be a good idea to include more description of what he's seeing so that the reader gets a good idea of where Vince is, and can visualize it better.
Hmm.. the mountains are from my imagination.. some made-up place from dreams I think.
I'll add in some more description.. it's kinda hard to balence the action/description.. thx
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