I’m so cold my bones are frozen

NWelcome to the Spot Writers. This week the prompt is “I’m so cold my bones have frozen.”

 

Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A LITTLE BIT OF BLACKMAIL, A LITTLE BIT OF BABY, and A BLANKET FOR HER HEART.  

 

Next week’s story will be by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers.

 

 

Winter Surprise

 

He parked his truck and stepped out into the swirling snow. Trapping and releasing pesky beavers for the state was fun, normally. He loved the time he was able to spend in the woods, normally. But today the temperature was darn near zero and the wind bit right through his coat. Couldn’t leave the beaver trapped too long though, had to pick them up.

Starting down the trail he thought he heard someone shout for help. There, ahead, next to a tree. A woman, crying out. No hat, just a sweater and a vest, what was she thinking on a day like this.

“Help me, please, call 911,” she cried.

He stopped in front of her. She was tied to the tree? And the vest? It couldn’t be. A bomb? He shook his head. This was no dream.

“My phone doesn’t work here. That is a bomb, right?”

She sobbed. “He said it would go off at noon. What time is it?”

“About eleven thirty.”

“Oh God, help me please.”

He examined the vest. Bombs he knew nothing about, but electrical stuff he did. And he had wire in the truck. “who put you in that thing?”

“A wanna be boyfriend. A weirdo.”

“You turned him down?”

“Yes. Please hurry. I’m scared.”

“Cold too I’ll bet.”

“I’m so cold my bones are frozen, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Be right back,” he said and hurried back to his truck. He returned a moment later with some wire and a knife.

She was crying now.

“Hey, don’t cry. Your tears will freeze,”

She giggled. “They’re tears of relief.”

He nodded, hoping the tears were justified. He had an idea how to free her but who knew if it would work. He began to trace the wires that ran from place to place.

“Have you got a blanket?” she pleaded.

“No, and I can’t cover you up. I have to see all the wires on you.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked in a small voice.

“Try to get you out of the vest.”

“What about the bomb?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “I don’t think it will go off.”

“You don’t know?” she whispered.

Nope,” he said and began to scrape a wire with his knife.

 

 

 

The Spot Writers- our members.

 

 

RC Bonitz

http://www.rcbonitz.com

 

Val Muller

http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

 

Catherine A. MacKenzie

http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Deborah Dera
http://www.deborahdera.com

 

 

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