Excerpt from my in progress novel. Character scene flash fiction.
Ivory
Ivory slung her bag over her
shoulder as she shouted up the stairs, "Jimmy, let's get a move
on." She pulled her thick hair into
a knotted ponytail, trying not to watch the clock by the door.
James appeared at the top of the
stairs, wrinkled clothes and an extreme case of bed head. Hitting the bottom of
the stairs, he swatted away Ivory’s hand as she began straightening his hair
with her fingers. The summer had left streaks of blonde in his brown hair.
She grabbed the sides of his face
and planted a kiss on his forehead, leaving a lip print, James quickly wiped
away with his sleeve. Laughing, she said, "Let's go. I'll race you to the
bus."
"Why do I have ta go? It's
still summer," James moaned.
"I got three interviews today.
Besides, you need the help with reading," she explained as she grabbed her
keys and ushered her little brother out the door. James muttered something
under his breath and waited on the stoop until his sister locked the door
before bolting down the sidewalk.
The normal crowd was already
gathered as they reached the bus stop. Skidding to a stop, James bent over to
catch his breath, coughing out the words, “Beat ya again, Iv." Red blush
flushing his caramel colored cheeks. Ivory swung an arm around James' shoulders
and gave him a squeeze as the bus rolled to a stop. People filed onto the bus, chattering as they
disappeared from the sidewalk. James wiggled from her arms, "Love you Ivory.
Good luck today."
"Love you too." She whispered after him. She
stood and watched as her brother moved out of her reach, disappearing into the
morning traffic.
The
screech of the tires pierced through the air. The world stood still, silent but
for the retched sound of metal on asphalt. The car rolled. The biker
disappeared into the heap of heaving metal. People watched but no one moved.
Dropping her bag, Ivory darted
toward the overturned car. She reached the car at a dead run, sliding Ivory
rammed her foot through the remainder of the window. Crying roared from the
back seat. The woman dangled unconscious, blood tainting her cream-colored
blouse. Brushing the shards of glass away, she climbed into the window,
contorting herself around the woman. Ivory took her knife from her pocket and
cut the straps of the seat belt allowing the woman's weight to collapse against
her chest.
Glass dug into Ivory's forearm,
her hip, and her legs as her fingers found the woman's neck. A tiny pulse
brought a sigh of relief as well as the sight of a man outside the window.
Ivory realized the man was not a police officer, not a paramedic, but the
homeless man who slept two streets away. Of all the people on the sidewalk, in
the parked cars, in the buildings, this man was the only one that was doing
anything. Ivory fought down words of anger. How could all these people just
stand there?
The man carried the woman a couple
feet away and began cleaning her face. Ivory turned and climbed back into the
window. The car shifted. Fear soaked into her thoughts with the crackle of
glass and the groan of the heaving metal. Adrenaline rocketed through her veins
as the little face came into focus. The little girl hung from her car seat,
cries pouring from her tiny lips, mingling with the sweet sound of sirens in
the distance. Then came the smell of smoke… and gasoline.
"Shit." Ivory clamped
her mouth shut and lunged forward, squeezing between the seats. Seconds ticked
away. New waves of adrenaline washed over her as her body threatened to panic.
Tick. Images of the truck engine flashed. The drip of oil, of gas and the smell
of smoke. Tick. Tick. Her fingers fumbled. Then a flash of clarity. She twisted
her leg, bracing against the seat and cut the child free.
Ivory gasped and she carried the child away from
the mass of tangled metal. Sirens wailed. Flashing lights. People rushed about.
Someone took the girl, pulling her from Ivory's grip. Tick. A man's face
appeared inches from hers, his voice throbbing in her ears. He seemed to be
shouting. The man turned and stepped toward the wreckage. Ivory grabbed his arm
and with all her strength, whispered, "Fire."
That night, Ivory left the
hospital sometime after dark. The nurse had offered to call a cab but Ivory
declined. James was at a friend’s house, giving her time to ‘rest’. Ivory
kicked a rock, cursing under her breath. Being a ‘hero’ hardly seemed worth it
when it came with bills she couldn’t pay. The night air wrapped around her
shoulders as Ivory turned down the alley behind local nightclub.
The sound of voices entered the
ally brushing past with the breeze. Footsteps followed. Ivory jerked around,
seeing nothing. She breathed, her heart thudding against her ribs. She was
never this jumpy. Wiping her eyes with one arm, she subtly pulled her knife out
of her bra with the other. It was probably nothing but just in case. With her
knife open pressed against her forearm, Ivory tucked her head and walked.
The arm seemed to come from
nowhere, lacing over Ivory's mouth. Her feet left the ground as the man slammed
her against the brick wall. Ivory sucked in a breath as the man dipped his head
into her hair. The man made a primitive, guttural noise as he ran a hand across
her stomach. He grabbed her wrists, moving to shove them over her head but his
fingers found the blade. He stumbled back. Ivory landed a kick to his chest.
The man lunged knocking her to the ground. He straddled her, his fingers around
her neck. Adrenaline washed over her as she fought. Scrambling to her feet, she
ran. Head swimming, heart beating in her ears, she never saw the truck...
