Forty Days of Flash Fic: Day Fourteen
Jul. 3rd, 2012 12:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalContinuing from yesterday.
* * *
Time stretched to eternity as he leaped over the edge of the cliff, falling through the air to slam into the water of the river, icy cold from mountain runoff. The shock of landing made him blow his breath out, and he came to the surface choking and spitting up water. Turning in the fast moving current, he saw a pair of machines slide and fall into the water behind him, sparking and shorting out as they landed and sank, still crying out, begging for him to make for the riverbank.
The remainder turned and began running along the edge of the cliff, while the helicopters dipped down into the cut, following his path, unable to come down close enough in the confined space to make a grab for him. He turned away, trying to get his arms and legs pumping to swim with the current, even as his teeth began to chatter and the biting cold stole feeling from his feet and hands.
"Sir!" the helicopter's loudspeakers called. "Swim for the bank! Help is coming! Swim for the bank! There are rapids ahead!"
Up ahead, he could see the river turn into a mass of white foam as he headed for the rocks. Barely a moment later he was in among them, hot pain searing his shoulder and leg as he struck the boulders, bouncing through them, carried by the current for nearly a half minute until he was clear, gasping for breath as the river widened and slowed. His shoulder was broken, he was sure, maybe his leg as well. He could feel the water clutching at his clothes as he began to sink, no longer shivering as hypothermia began to set in.
Then strong arms were wrapping themselves around his chest, pulling his head out of the water, kicking towards the bank. It was an ottermorph, a machine with a humanoid shape, covered in sleek dark brown fur with small, mobile ears atop a narrow head with a black nose.
Of course some of them would be able to swim, he thought with dread. They were lifeguards too.
A helicopter landed nearby on the wide gravel and sand bank. More machines emerged from it, covered in fur to make them comforting and friendly, rather than conquerors. These wore paramedic jackets and picked him up with the greatest of care from the otter's webbed hands, laying him on a back brace as they cut away his soaking clothing, to cover him in a silver blanket with heat packs at his chest, feet and hands, strapping him down for his safety. Always for his safety.
"Don't worry, sir," one the rescuers said, its face formed into that of a fox, tail wagging in pleasure as it came to his aid, as it was designed to. "We have you now. You're all right. We will keep you safe. We promise."
As they secured him to the helicopter's stretcher, he began to weep.
* * *
Time stretched to eternity as he leaped over the edge of the cliff, falling through the air to slam into the water of the river, icy cold from mountain runoff. The shock of landing made him blow his breath out, and he came to the surface choking and spitting up water. Turning in the fast moving current, he saw a pair of machines slide and fall into the water behind him, sparking and shorting out as they landed and sank, still crying out, begging for him to make for the riverbank.
The remainder turned and began running along the edge of the cliff, while the helicopters dipped down into the cut, following his path, unable to come down close enough in the confined space to make a grab for him. He turned away, trying to get his arms and legs pumping to swim with the current, even as his teeth began to chatter and the biting cold stole feeling from his feet and hands.
"Sir!" the helicopter's loudspeakers called. "Swim for the bank! Help is coming! Swim for the bank! There are rapids ahead!"
Up ahead, he could see the river turn into a mass of white foam as he headed for the rocks. Barely a moment later he was in among them, hot pain searing his shoulder and leg as he struck the boulders, bouncing through them, carried by the current for nearly a half minute until he was clear, gasping for breath as the river widened and slowed. His shoulder was broken, he was sure, maybe his leg as well. He could feel the water clutching at his clothes as he began to sink, no longer shivering as hypothermia began to set in.
Then strong arms were wrapping themselves around his chest, pulling his head out of the water, kicking towards the bank. It was an ottermorph, a machine with a humanoid shape, covered in sleek dark brown fur with small, mobile ears atop a narrow head with a black nose.
Of course some of them would be able to swim, he thought with dread. They were lifeguards too.
A helicopter landed nearby on the wide gravel and sand bank. More machines emerged from it, covered in fur to make them comforting and friendly, rather than conquerors. These wore paramedic jackets and picked him up with the greatest of care from the otter's webbed hands, laying him on a back brace as they cut away his soaking clothing, to cover him in a silver blanket with heat packs at his chest, feet and hands, strapping him down for his safety. Always for his safety.
"Don't worry, sir," one the rescuers said, its face formed into that of a fox, tail wagging in pleasure as it came to his aid, as it was designed to. "We have you now. You're all right. We will keep you safe. We promise."
As they secured him to the helicopter's stretcher, he began to weep.
