Ivory

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...