We were within a mile-and-a-half of the service roads when we found it. Micah sprinted for the Jeep, climbed over the passenger seat, and raided the snacks in the back. Finding half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he ripped open the plastic bag and stuffed the sandwich into his mouth, the filling oozing from between the two slices of bread, down his wrists.
“Something’s not right,” I said.
“What’s not right is that cloud.” He pointed toward the darkening sky, giving the illusion of twilight, though it was just after one in the afternoon. “We’ll be buried under eight feet of snow by nightfall if we don’t leave now.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that we’ve been wandering around this mountain for hours with no luck. Then suddenly…the car’s just here?” A large boulder rested about ten yards in front of the Jeep. A carpet of moss covered the side of the rock facing south, while the northern face was blanketed in snow. “I know I’ve seen that rock before.”
“Micah rolled his eyes. “When we parked here! Now get in. I’m ’bout to freeze!”
I followed his command and cranked the engine as a rumble of thunder shook the ground, and the sky was instantly pitch black.
word count: 197
Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner is a weekly challenge for writers to create a story in under 200 words using the provided photo prompt and introductory sentence as their ‘muse.’ Click the froggy icon to read other stories inspired by the photo and add your own.