Picture it and Write: Prepared
Hi there! This is my offering for this weeks picture it and write from Ermilia’s Blog here. Once again; the picture is not mine, this one is by Floris Van Cauwelaert, I only use it for inspiration. Anyway; Enjoy.
Randall watched as the two men hiked up through the snowdrifts to the ridge above. His father, the man in the front stopped to wave back. He kept on watching until the black figures had faded into the white expanse of snow then he turned back to the twisted tube of metal that was the remains of their plane.
There were twenty survivors, most of them barely that. Randall’s father had climbed mountains before, and Mr Grayson, the man with him was in the army so they set off over the ridge and hopefully down the other side to get help. They were very remote they said, far from flight paths and towns. It might be some time.
Randall had begged his father to let him come with him. He swore that he would keep up and do everything that he was told but his father had told him he couldn’t go. Eleven was too young to climb into the unknown like that. Besides; Randall’s mother was very hurt, she needed him to look after her, take care of her. He would be back as soon as he could but Randall had to take care of things here. “No matter what!”
The adults didn’t talk much to Randall, especially about what was going on but he could hear enough. There had been an argument the hour before Randall’s father had left about the amount of food him and Grayson were taking with them. It had gotten quite heated before Mr Grayson took one of the dissenters and had a quiet word with him. After that things got a lot more subdued.
Randall helped his father as much as he could. They raided the surviving luggage for as much warm clothes as they could find. With up to ten layers each, the two men made slow but steady progress away. Randall swore that he wouldn’t cry but he let a single tear flow down as he turned back to the others and the business of survival.
He was awoken from his revelry by Smith, one of the other able-bodied men. “Here boy!” Smith called, “Help me with this!”
Randall came to a semicircular trench that smith was in the process of digging in the snow. He handed Randall as sheet plastic and got him to help digging. When the trench was about a foot deep. Mr Smith got Randall to help him drag the dead bodies from out and around the plane and drop them in it. They then started to shovel the snow back in.
When they were finished Randall asked “Mr Smith! When they buried my Granny they made the hole in the ground and dug it very deep. Why didn’t we do the same for these people?”
Mr Smith looked at Randall, his face a grim piece of granite and answered. “We don’t want them deep in case we need to get at them later.”
It was three weeks until Randall knew what he meant by that.