Unshattered

My entry for the first half of Round 1 for the NYC Flash Fiction 2020 contest (48 hours to write 1000 words based on three assigned elements). My assigned elements this round were: Action/Adventure, a minefield, and a mirror.

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Jo barreled through the dense forest, both hands clutching her worn messenger bag tight to her chest. She could hear Ines and Lucie behind her gaining ground, but Jo couldn’t risk running any faster. One wrong step and she’d fall, break the mirror she’d just stolen, and her mother would die. If Jo failed to get the mirror back in one piece to the warlord who’d kidnapped her mother, she’d never see her mother alive again. 

The forest started to clear, the trees drifting apart like guests leaving a party. Up ahead Jo saw an open field, and she sped up a little. Although the field didn’t offer any cover, she felt hopeful she could outrun them now that the ground was clear. 

“You will never get away with this you dirty thief! I will wear your teeth like jewels before the sun sets!” Ines screamed from behind her.

Jo chanced a glance back, and her foot caught on a rock. She started to fall and reflexively threw her arms out to regain her balance. Her bag flew open, loosing the contents ahead of her in a spray. Jo stretched her body, desperate to catch the small looking glass in the gem-encrusted frame before it hit the ground. 

Everything was moving in slow motion. She could hear Lucie laughing behind her, the sound low and slurred like a record on the wrong speed. The mirror spun in the air, flipping front over back. As it turned, Jo saw an image in the glass of her mother’s face, pallid and still, eyes grey, clouded, and unfocused. She managed to catch the mirror just before it landed on the ground. 

Jo was sprawled on her stomach, her arms outstretched in front of her, the mirror clutched tightly in her hands. Ines and Lucie came up on either side of her. “Thanks for saving our family heirloom you clumsy shit,” said Lucie, “My sister is cooking up an old family recipe for you, since you like our family’s things so much … gasoline and motor oil.” Jo turned her head to see Ines shaking a delicate glass bottle. Lucie crouched beside Jo and whispered, “Oh, we’ll give you a head start before we smash it open over your skull. We’re good sports like that. Now give me the mirror.” 

Jo scrambled up onto her knees, and tried to back away and stand up at the same time. She fell over backward, landing hard on her ass. Lucie cackled. “Don’t worry, you burn quick. Need my lighter, Ines?” 

Ines was threading a long piece of white cloth into the bottle. She rolled her eyes. “Oh right, because I brought everything else but a lighter, you dumb bitch.” Ines reached into her satchel and pulled out a Zippo, flicking it into life with one hand. “Now stop fucking around.” 

Lucie stuck her tongue out at her sister, but stepped forward to get the mirror from Jo. As her foot hit the ground, there were three quick clicks followed by an earsplitting explosion. Lucie shattered as shrapnel from the mine blew through her. Ribbons of flesh ballooned upward in a delicate cloud, twirling and dancing, before gravity summoned them back down with a series of wet thuds. 

Jo stared transfixed at the pile of body parts for a moment. She was covered in a slurry of blood and dirt, and her whole body was shaking. 

Ines was standing perfectly still, staring at the mass of flesh. A single tear ran down her face. In her hand, she still held the bottle, the tip of the long white cloth burning with a hot, yellow flame. Slowly, she turned her head toward Jo. “Murderer.” 

Ines lobbed the flaming bottle toward Jo. Jo’s first instinct was to run, but sprinting off in the middle of a minefield was suicide. If she let the bottle hit the ground, it could set off a mine, or the bottle could break, either of which kill her. So she did the only thing she could think of. She quickly tucked the mirror in the cup of her bra and caught the bottle. 

The flame was about halfway up the wick, and the bottle felt hot. The wick was burning quickly. Jo looked around, but couldn’t think of any other options. She hesitated briefly, and then tossed the bottle back to Ines. 

Ines was not expecting the throw. She bobbled the catch a bit and had to lean far to the left, almost putting a foot down to catch herself. At the last second she regained her balance, and quickly whipped the bottle back toward Jo. 

The throw was hard and fast. Jo managed to catch the bottle but set her sleeve on fire. In a panic, she blindly threw the bottle back toward Ines and started patting at the fire to put it out. 

The bottle spun end over end through the air toward Ines. The flame on the wick had reached the inside of the bottle, and the liquid rushed up to embrace the fire. The thin, hot glass exploded, creating a mist of flames and stinging shards. Ines raised her arms in front of her face to protect herself. Jo watched as thousands of tiny slices appeared on Ines’s skin, and hundreds of little fires ignited all over her body. It didn’t take long for the flames to discover the splashes of gas and oilily over Ines’s clothes, and Ines was quickly engulfed. 

Ines stared at Jo through the smoke billowing off her body. The flames grew, and Ines closed her eyes and fell to her knees. Three seconds later, an explosion ripped upward from the ground followed by a rain of fire and blood. 

Jo sat, panting in cold horror. Then she scrambled to pull the mirror out. It gleamed back at her, undamaged. She kissed the glass. “I’m coming, Momma.” 

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