Something Fishy

Metallic, salty blood met her tongue as Andrea closed her mouth over the wound. Damn barbwire.

She removed her shirt and stuffed it under a rock. The night air tore through her flimsy singlet.

Leaves rustled and insects chirped. Something scratched at the earth. Any moment, sirens could sound.

Emerging from the tree line, she let her blond hair down. Harsh streetlight bathed her. If only she’d been able to dye her orange tracksuit pants.

The hum of an engine grew louder. High beams ripped the veil of darkness from the woods.

Andrea stuck out her thumb.

A boxy SUV skidded to a halt on the kerb. Sulphurous, smoky fumes curled around her legs.

The driver’s window slid down.

‘Where you head?’ The man’s voice was thickly accented.  

‘Anywhere is better than here.’ She smiled.

‘Get in.’

A lock clicked.

She climbed into the back seat. Her fingers lingered on the luxurious leather.

The lock clicked again.

Two males sat in front. Short dark hair. Black leather jackets. Gold chains hanging from thick necks.

Brothers?

The road twisted and turned.

The driver’s gaze alternated between the asphalt and the revision mirror. ‘Я чую, что пахнет жареным.’

Russian. I can smell it fried. Better understood as, I smell something fishy. The last decade had provided her a lot of reading time.

She leaned forward. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

They continued in Russian.

‘She from that woman’s prison?’

‘Looks like it. No one will miss her.’

She reached into her pocket. Her hand closed around a shiv fashioned from a sharpened sardine can. 

Afterword

The mission—set by Fiction Writers Group (FWG)—was to write a 300-word flash fiction piece based on the photo above.

At first the image stumped me. The setting excluded high fantasy, but left open urban fantasy, portal fantasy and the like. Inspiration for a fantasy story refused to strike.

A few other ideas bubbled to the surface. The road would lend itself well to a police chase or street race (like in “The Fast and the Furious”). But, as you saw, the idea that won out was a combination of hitchhiking, a foreign language and “Orange is the New Black”.

Knowing that the men in the car had terrible intentions, I was reluctant to choose their nationality (I don’t want to offend anyone). Of course though, it’s fiction. And, given Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, I picked Russia. I should add that I have some nice Russian work colleagues.

Hope you enjoyed the story.

Image attribution: thanks to sanooj ck from Pixabay.