Another Flash Fiction Challenge from Chuck Wendig . a link to random list of Titles.(Click here) we choose one to be our title.
one of the five is my title. I was nearly paralyzed by indecision on this one. so many hilarious/cool ideas. (Burning Crocodile. ’nuff said.) But I decided to go with the one I felt would be the most potent.
Two miserable pain drenched days. She tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but the pit wasn’t large enough and the busted timber pinned her ankle to the bottom of the pit. Her muscles ached but she couldn’t feel her foot anymore;she had worried about it yesterday. Now she just wanted water.Her throat felt like sandpaper and her tongue was a piece of beef jerky covered in grit. She was thirsty,tired and scared. All she could do was wait for help as she slowly died, one minute at a time.She still had her pocket radio, but it only told her the weather was worse and that rescue teams were working day and night. The battery was running low so she only kept it on for a few minutes at a time.She still hadn’t seen or heard anyone. except the rats. they were everywhere.
As she slipped in and out of consciousness, the dread that someone would call out and she wouldn’t be able to answer grew stronger. She looked towards the sky again for the hundredth time. the edge of the pit was only ten feet up, but it might as well have been a mile. the radio was cutting out when she heard something that made her spirit soar. Rescuers had been dispatched towards her side of the neighborhood. It would be only a matter of time, she told herself. She would be home and this would just be a long forgotten nightmare. She dragged her dry tongue across cracked lips Hoping.Praying for some moisture, then she slipped into an untroubled sleep for the first time since she had been trapped down here.
She awoke to the hiss and crackle of her radio. She felt a bleary thread of confusion worm through her. Had she left it on? it didn’t matter, she would be rescued soon. The battery could hold out until help came. Hopefully. The announcer came back on so she tried to focus. The report was wavering in and out; something about a turn in the weather; a monsoon had come out of nowhere; the rescue workers were being pulled back until the monsoon had passed; A flash flood was likely. She heard the wind howling outside her hole. the radio gave a final squawk then fell silent. The dead radio made the wind all the louder. She leaned her head back against the wall of her prison and began to sob tears she didn’t have.
The rain began to fall like merciless hammers.