Ingram had followed her for thirty miles through this winter storm. He shouldn’t have had to do it. She had refused police protection. This is what he’d been afraid of though. She had decided to run.
Suddenly, he became aware of the fact the vehicle he’d been following the last few miles was not hers. He had lost sight of her somewhere in the blowing snow.
Had she turned off? Was she farther ahead than he thought? Now he had to decide what to do. He had to act quickly. It might already be too late. Ingram knew he wasn’t the only one following her.
In 250 words or less, tell us a story incorporating the elements in the picture. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.
Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until 5:00 PM Pacific Daylight Time on Tuesday, January 1st, 2013.
On Wednesday morning, we will open voting to the public with an online poll for the best writing entry accompanying the photo. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday.
On Friday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature. Best of luck to you all in your writing!
Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted.
Ingram floored the Mercedes C63. Thank goodness he had had winter tyres fitted the week before, otherwise this would all have been impossible. He passed the car he had thought was hers. His only hope now, was that she was further ahead. If she had turned off, he’d have lost her for good and heaven knows what would happen to her if those goons got hold of her.
Ahead he could just make out a faint flickering. Could it be? He stomped on the accelerator again. Snow continued to bash against his wind shield making visibility almost impossible. There were definitely lights ahead.
He squinted hard. It looked like a Toyota Camry from the back. It was stopped on the route. Two men stood by the trunk wearing long trench coats. As he approached, he observed them simultaneously opening and closing their coats. They were completely naked beneath the coats, blue with cold.
He pulled up behind the car. The men opened and closed their coats again.
The driver’s door opened. A woman tumbled out of the driver’s seat and raced up to him, stumbling on the slippery road.
“Oh Ingram, I hoped it would be you. You can’t believe how grateful I am that you found me before…before…” She fell into his arms and he held her protectively.
“I might not have found you, you know? It was impossible in this snow storm to make out your car. It was a good thing you had your emergency flashers.
Ingram stomped down on the gas pedal. His tires spun and struggled to keep traction on the snow-covered road. The needle on the speedometer slowly crept to the right as he sped past the car he had been following.
He stared intensely into the storm, desperately seeking some sign of her. Ingram was so focused on his search that he never saw the patch of black ice. His car went spinning out of control and he blacked out.
Ingram didn’t remember being thrown from the car, didn’t remember ending up out in the middle of a field, wind and ice swirling in the air around him. He awoke to find his bad shoulder was out of its socket once again. He sat up and looked around. The car was in a grove of trees behind him, the front end crushed, the windshield shattered.
He got to his feet, and staggered through the rapidly drifiting snow back to the trees. At least they would provide some shelter from the storm.
He got back to the grove, placed his arm against a tree, and, with a grunt and a stifled scream, snapped his shoulder back into its proper place. The pain caused him to black out once again.
When he awoke a second time, he was vaguely aware of a person standing over him. It was her. And as she raised the gun, his last thought was, “No wonder she refused protection.”