Hidden
The shadows deceived him.
The constant changes from light to shade and back again played tricks on the
mind. Cameron held his breath. Was that somebody moving? No, it had only been
the sun coming out from behind a cloud for a few moments and illuminating a segment
of a bush before it was obscured by the gloom again.
His mind raced, but his
arms held firm. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying in wait with his bow
cocked, ready for the moment one of his opponents would reveal themselves. Years of practice had preceded this moment. He’d
trained his breathing until he could hold his breath twice as long as any of
his friends. He’d meditated until he could shut his thoughts down on the spur
of the moment. All of it for this moment, and for other, similar occasions.
A branch snapped behind
him. Cameron whirled around and released the arrow before he realised he’d seen
someone. The soft thud followed by a much louder curse satisfied a primal need
deep inside him.
One down.
Arrows rained down on his
hideout before he could finish the thought. They hadn’t seen him, didn’t know
exactly where he was, but his shot had given them a general direction to aim
for. He lowered his bow and pressed himself flat against the moss covered ground,
happy to remain invisible and wait for however long it took. Unlike those
shooting at him he wasn’t prepared to waste arrows on targets he couldn’t see.
The onslaught ended as
abruptly as it had started. Either his enemies thought they’d managed to kill
him or they’d given up trying because they’d at last realised how impossible it
was to hit something they couldn’t see.
Cameron raised his head
just in time to see four figures emerge from the bushes thirty metres ahead of
him. His mind went blank as instinct took over, making his eyes and arms
function without a conscious thought on his part. One after the other the four
arrows left his bow, the second releasing before the first one reached its
target. Like lined up dominoes, the four attackers fell to the ground in quick
succession. He lowered his bow, his arms suddenly heavy and tired.
He didn’t hear a thing,
wasn’t aware of the approaching danger until a shadow stretched out in front of
him. Swallowing the curse burning on his tongue he turned over, ready to
release an arrow at whoever had managed to sneak up on him, when a trumpet
sounded.
Cameron allowed his arms to
relax again as he watched a grin spread across the features of the man staring
down at him. “Fuck me! You’re good.”
“Why, thank you, Pascal,”
Cameron said, smirking widely. He sat up and turned to look over his shoulder,
just in time to see the four men he’d shot down moments earlier, get up from
the ground while retrieving the blunt arrows from where they’d fallen.
“Is there something you’d
like to tell me?” Pascal asked.
Cameron shrugged. He’d
thought about coming clean when his boyfriend of two months had first invited him
to this medieval version of paintball, but that would have spoiled the surprise,
especially considering how smug Pascal had been about his supposed prowess with
a crossbow.
“You mean I should have
mentioned that I’ve been into archery since I was eight?” He grabbed Pascal’s offered
hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. “That would have been no fun at all.”
****
585 words
Thank you for reading my
flash, I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear your thoughts.
This image was suggested by
Theo Fenraven. More stories inspired by this picture should be available in the
Monday Flash Fics group, which is also where we’ll announce what image next
week’s stories will be based on. We would love to have you join us.
"The soft thud followed by a much louder curse satisfied a primal need deep inside him." Loved that line! 😀. This was a fantastic picture. Enjoyed your flash!
ReplyDeleteI love it (but you knew that)!
ReplyDeleteThank you, and without you, it wouldn't be quite what it is :)
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