Writing Prompt: The car would not start.

Good morning one and all. Welcome to a cloudy and overcast Monday morning. Hopefully we well get buckets of rain and for a few hours the air won’t feel quite so heavy. So who is ready for the morning writing prompt? Personally I am more than ready to shake my brain awake. So let’s get started.

A little darker than I planned to go. Not entirely sure why they are escaping. I sort of feel that this is towards the end of a story rather than the beginning.

Monday, August 16th: The car would not start.

The car would not start.  We tried everything we could think of but nothing worked.  I looked back towards the house and saw a curtain flutter.  I suspected that the inability of the car to start had less to do with normal wear and tear and more to do with sabotage. 

It didn’t matter.  We weren’t staying.  I hauled my bag out of the back seat and strapped it onto my shoulders.  I was wearing good walking shoes and had no problem putting them to the test.  I would not be staying here another night.

“You can’t be serious,” Eric said, looking at me. 

I looked back at him and lifted an eyebrow.  I then turned away.  I began walking towards the road.  I heard him scrambling behind me.  I heard the car door slam and then his footsteps pounding the ground as he raced to catch up with me.

“I guess you are serious,” He said.  He shoved his arms into the straps of his back and hitched it up as he walked.  With his longer legs it was easier to keep pace.  At first we followed the road into town.  I had the suspicion that this would be expected.  In my mind’s eye I anticipated a move to counter us as we made our way into town.  Surely the fouling of the car would not be the only attempt to keep us in check. 

I had a plan though.  One I had been working on when no one else was around.  While I claimed no acquaintances in the area and in fact anyone who might remember be was long gone, either dead or moved, I spent long stretches of my childhood in the area.  There was an old boat shed along the river.  Hidden and mostly collapsed now.  Still one of the boats left behind wasn’t in too bad of a shape and I managed to repair it.  The vessel wouldn’t be useful for the long haul, but the river flowed away from town and towards the next town along the highway.  It was a longer distance and during our stay we had never gone in that direction for anything.  It wouldn’t be expected. 

When we were far enough away from the house to be unobserved, our course clearly set by anyone watching from the house, I cut off the road. And headed into the woods.  The sun was filtered by the leafy canopy and the temperature dropped several degrees.  I could feel Eric sigh with the relief of it.  He had never been good in the sun.  To his credit, he didn’t ask any questions.  It made my paranoia about being followed seem less paranoid and more of a practical consideration.

We reached the boat house and although he looked surprised, Eric helped me haul the boat out onto the water.  We climbed in and I was pleased to see it didn’t leak.  I managed to steer us towards the center where the current ran strongest and we were swiftly and silently on our way.  The current was swift and we soon passed beyond the boundaries of the area we moved through during our stay.  Both of us remained quiet.  I felt exposed on the river, but didn’t want to get tangled up in the trees by the river’s edge.  Once I may have known these lands, but the edges were blurred by time’s passage.  Larger landmarks were fine, but the banks worn by wind and rain, altered enough that I didn’t want to risk staying too close to them.

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