Remnants — Episode 11

Near the foot of Witch Mettle Mountain, the front fork over the bicycle wheel busted loose. Eli was thrown across the handlebars, and his face met the blacktop road. The bike landed on his back then bounded away into the ditch.

He sat up and took inventory of his body. No bones screamed in pain, but he’d scraped skin from his forehead and nose. When he touched raw flesh, his finger came away tacky with blood.

Eli stood, cautiously bent his knees to lower and raise himself. His legs seemed okay, no bones broken. He lifted his arms over his head, let them drop, then walked over to examine the bicycle.

No way would he ride it again. Not only was the frame out of whack, the front wheel was out of round. The bike was definitely out of commission. He let it fall back to the ground.

He’d turned pedestrian.

Eli stared in a mix of wonder and fear at the horizon, halfway between where he’d crashed and town. Smoke billowed and blanketed the night sky.

The highway toward town was centered in the fire. He couldn’t go that way now. The flames appeared to be headed straight down the road toward him. He needed to cut cross-country in a semicircle to get around them.

He struck out through the wilderness in an attempt to escape the wildfire.