I hear bullets.
Some flash fiction. Keeping to my usual, textual ambiguity, so don’t expect me to reveal too much here. ;)
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All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Melbourne & Victoria, Sci Fi and WMGThe sound of gunfire does not sound like it does in the movies. No matter how surround sound it gets, nothing is like this. Adrenaline has your heart racing. You sweat more than ever before. You’re afraid, and every moment is either fight or flight. You aren’t in control. Your genes and history choose for you. Suddenly, man is a machine. This machine hears everything. Each bullet has a slightly different cadence, depending on the acoustics the gunman’s surroundings provide, and you hear the difference, because it may be your life in that bullet.
I am running, as I have never run before. Branches are tearing at my clothes and skin. My head is bleeding from earlier, but I don’t care. I feel the blood running down the side of my face, hot from my body, but chilled from the wind by the time it reaches my jaw. My head doesn’t hurt, because my body refuses to let me feel the pain until I reach safety.
Everyone thinks you hear your heart beating in these moments, that somehow everything else fades away.
It isn’t true.
I hear the bullets. I hear the bullet that hits the tree, not ten feet behind me. I hear the bullet that hits the ground that I’ve just run across, making a slightly thick sound, as it burrows into the earth. I hear the bullet that hits my friend, and I hear his cry before his body falls to the ground. They riddle him with more bullets, to make sure he never rises. I want to stop, go back, but I am a machine, still running on adrenaline, and I keep going.
The fence is ahead. It’s tall. Will I make it?
My legs are tired, but they are given new strength. I jump higher than I ever have. My fingers are like claws, latching onto any hold I can find in the metal fence. Climbing, climbing, climbing. The bullets are nearing.
The barbed wire at the top of the fence cuts into my hands and rips my clothes even more, but I must keep moving. I jump down from the fence, and I land poorly. Something pulls in my right leg, but I refuse to limp. I am almost free.
Sneakers make a crisp, tapping sound on asphalt. It echoes in the open, a compliment to the increasingly distant shouts.
Now I hear my heart, my heavy breathing, the pain in my head. But no bullets. It is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
Damian
Great descriptions of the experience, excellent to get us into the moment.
Lelia Thomas replied
I’m glad you liked it, Damian. :)
AndrewJP
Didn’t really feel like sci-fi (unless the machine references are meant to be taken literally :)
Then again, you did say it was meant to be ambiguous, and it’s a great descriptive piece all the same.