It will not end until we stand up and say
“NO MORE.”
Check out this article by Charles French.
Tag: danger
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RIVER GODS
Sheets of water streamed behind Mark Mayfield’s speedboat as he turned hard at yet another twist of the Tuscahana River. Adrenaline soared through his veins. Navigating these hairpin turns at high speed took all his concentration. Some called the annual River Gods race cursed because of the many accidents. Still, racers flocked yearly.Today Mark’s luck held. His nearest competitor was a half mile back. Eight others had flipped or run aground on the dangerous waterway. Hundreds of people cheered along the steep banks as he made the last turn. Victory hung before him, then a movement in the shadow caught his attention. Golden eyes blinked from the darkness beneath a group of children who dangling their legs over the edge. A mud colored limb struck a stick standing in the water beneath them. The ground shifted. Rows of jagged teeth smiled at Mark as he raced past.
All thoughts of the finishing the race vanished. Mark yanked the speedboat into a tight turn only inches from the black and white checked strip hanging across the river. The crowd gasped as he headed upstream and buried his boat into the crevasse under the children just as the ground gave way. Mark sat, heart pounding, as a red stain ooze from under the boat, thankful none of the children were hurt.
No one knew what kind of creature Mark had smashed that day. There was little left to examine. But there were a lot fewer accidents during future River Gods races.
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SUPER-DUDE
“Stand behind me,” said Clifford. He pulled on a red hat and cape. “I’ll keep you from harm.”
I clutched my notebook close. The beating of my heart made it bounce against my chest. All I wanted was to write a story about a modern psychiatric hospital, something that I could get published. The one I wrote about the Northgate asylum nearly got me committed. No reputable newspaper would touch a ghost story. If I survived this riot I just might have something.
“Out of the way Super-Dude,” said a patient holding a metal pipe. “I want that pretty girl.”
“I won’t allow you to harm her. Turn away or I will be forced to use my powers.”
Pipe man and his three friends laughed. My stomach twisted. The guards were dead or soon would be. All that stood between me and this crazed mob was a sweet little lunatic who thought he was a super hero.
“I’m gonna shove that cape and helmet of invisibility down your throat,” said Pipe man. He marched forward, his face twisted in a sneer.
My friend shook his head. “You’ve been warned.”
Clifford vanished. The inmates gaped at the empty space where he had stood. So did I. A second later Pipe guy fell to the ground. Blood streamed from his nose. When the second man fell, his friends fled.
My hero stood guard until the riot ended. I had quite a story to tell—one that only Super-Dude would believe.