\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1704676-Runnin
Item Icon
by Nishy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1704676
Who to save, yourself or your family?
Runnin'


It was at the first light of the morning when the chase began. The grass reeds rustled and swayed with the winds of a brewing rainstorm, quietly whispering to each of their inhabitants, which they concealed within their gentle grasp. Overhead a kookaburra made its daily salutation to the sun as the pink-tinged sky began its slow transformation into a bright, flawless blue. As tranquil as all appeared to be, this fragile façade was broken with the tell-tale ‘chik chik’ of a shotgun being reloaded, the crunch and snap of scrub being crushed underfoot. “I know yer out there boys! Come on out, there ain’t nothing to be ‘fraid of here," a voice called persuasively. A blue clothed man appeared from behind a rocky outcrop, his demeanour seemingly casual but it was his eyes that gave away his intent. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, I’m just here to take you to a good place where you boys can learn to be white men. Ev’ryone knows you need to be white, to be bright.” As he continued his lumbering gait through the undergrowth, two sets of eyes watched him intently from the tiny gaps between the grasses, their heaving breath muffled by earth below.

Once the loud thuds of the bush officer’s traverse faded into the distance; they were off. Two black boys sprung from the thicket that, minutes ago, was only a metre from the blue man’s boot. “Come on Jimmy, we ain’t lettin’ that Copper get to Ma and lil' Beth. Beth is too white, she’ll be taken.” The older of the two boys dragged the younger behind him, anxiety fuelling their quiet sprint towards the officer. “Distraction Jimmy; remember, we are just the distraction.”

“But Girra we’ll get caught too!” The younger boy uneasily said between breaths.

“Wha'dya mean caught? We too black for him Jimmy and if we keep runnin, we canna be caught.” A few metres before approaching the officer, they disappeared again, engulfed by the long grasses. “This is our country Jimmy, it will protect us. We children of the bush!” Girra whispered confidently to his brother, before creeping closer to the blue-clothed man who continued his search for those of whom were right behind him. 

Then suddenly, the man stopped. His posture stiffened. His hand snaked out and grasped a small, tattered square of pink cloth. Then a sly smile pasted itself onto his face. "More of you are there?" he questioned without expecting an answer - to reply would mean to give away their position. "Just you wait, we're gonna get all of yer sometime." Tightly grasping the small piece of cloth in his hand, he stomped through the bush with a certain excitement that was worrying to behold. "I'm getting closer boys, I can feel it..."He chuckled maliciously.

"Girra, Girra, he's right, he's close. What should we do? Has Ma left the camp yet? Did ya see that scrap of Beth's dress? We need to lead him away Girra, he's too clo-"

"I know Jimmy, I know, I just...I...distraction Jimmy, distract him!" And with impulsive urgency, Girra burst out of the bushes, the long grasses moving fast to hide the place of which he just departed. Jimmy was left behind gaping, open-mouthed, at the boldness of his older brother. Then it happened...out of the corner of his eye Jimmy saw it - but Girra didn't. A second blue man.

"Gotcha!" A triumphant shout echoed around the bushlands. "Finally gotcha." Both men sneered menacingly at Girra, as the boy wriggled frantically within their grasp. "Tried to trick us aye? Thought you had the upper hand? Well who's on top now?"

Jimmy crouched in the bushes too shocked to move, too scared to act knowing that if he did, they'd both be caught.
"Girra..." he mournfully whispered, as his brother was dragged away. Just before he was pulled out of view, Girra flicked a small smile in his direction. "Distraction," he seemed to say.
© Copyright 2010 Nishy (nishy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1704676-Runnin