Welcome to Story Starters
These are flash fiction stories. My word count goal is no more than 400 words for each story. I’ll show you the story and a graphic. If you read a story you like, let me know and I can expand it for a future blog post.
This week’s story:
“No Longer Lost”
It seemed like an easy enough job. Go to the dock, pick up a set of keys, and drive a van to the edge of town. Every night for a week and I’d get a thousand dollars. Enough money to put Nevermore behind me.
“Wendy?” a shrill voice asks.
I whirl around and see a petite girl with blonde hair dressed in black leather. “Who are you and how do you know me?”
She extends her slim hand. “Name’s Belle. I’m with you on tonight’s ride.”
“You ask too many questions. Get in the vehicle and we’ll talk.”
I yank open the door and slip behind the steering wheel. The engine sputters for a moment before cranking up. I throw the gear into drive and pull away from the waterfront.
“Okay, Belle, start explaining. Why are you here?”
She ignores my question and says, “Have you met our employer?”
“No.” It was the one rule I had to obey. Never ask about the man in charge. Frankly, I don’t care who he is as long as he pays me.
“Ever check out what’s in the back?” Belle asks as she pulls a switchblade from her jacket pocket.
“No.” I try to keep my eyes on the road but the glint of the weapon keeps distracting me.
“Pull over, Wendy.” The strange girl puts her hand on the door handle. “It’s time you learned the truth.”
“Just pull over.”
Maybe if I do as she asks, I’ll still be able to make my delivery.
A few minutes later we’re parked on the side of the only road out of Nevermore. Belle hops out of the van and rushes to the back door. By the time I reach the rear, she’s using her switchblade to pop the lock. The door creaks open and she pulls a small flashlight from her waistband. The bright light settles on several eyes. Unintelligible voices mingle together.
My gaze darts to Belle. “You knew about this?”
“Yeah, I did.” The girl with the pixie hair cut looks from me and into the van. “Hiya, boys. We need to get out of here before Stark comes looking for you.”
Six guys, all different in appearance, exit the back of the van. The tallest one, the most handsome of the group, whistles as he gazes at me.
“I’m Aidan.” He holds out his hand. “Thanks for saving us.”
“Not a what, Wendy Darling, but a who.”