Flash Fiction: The Misty Stone

“Boss!Can’t we take a break?”

Captain Gregory looked back at his squad and the sorry picture they painted. He sighed and nodded. Cummins turned back to his three comrades and gave them a thumbs up sign. The tired soldiers seated themselves on the marshy ground, atop what little firm area they could find. They were deep inside the jungle now, and the density of the fog showed no signs of thinning down. Captain Gregory spit out the gum he was chewing and replaced it with a fresh wad of gum. He walked up to his men.

“Five minutes is all you get. Then we continue.”

Cummins shook his head in disbelief.

“Boss, why are we rushing it so much? Why not wait until this deathly fog reduces? We have lost half our men trying to navigate the perils of this jungle in such poor visibility. All this just for a stone?”

The captain drew himself up to his full height.

“Son, you don’t even know the value of this stone on the black market. The thickening of fog only indicates that the stone is being moved to a secure location. We won’t get a chance like this for the next five years. I cannot afford to waste time like this. I want the stone, and I will have it, so watch me.”

Cummins got up, readied his weapon and whispered as softly as he could.

“I’m more afraid of what else is watching us right now.”


Word Count: 247

Prompt:

#MenageMonday Challenge – Week 2×39

3 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s