Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 183

This week's phorot promo was taken by Alexa Wilson on Twitter. Found in the middle of a field in an area called Forlorn, in the Cotswolds, UK. I had to write about it!

This turned out quite well. I wanted something unique and I think it works. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Leg

Duncan was right; it had been washed up by the tide. Damn! I stood at the top of the cliff looking down and saw the leg there on the rock. The shoe was still on the foot.

I looked around. No one was about. Good. But how was I going to get down there? It was a secluded cove, with no footpath access, and the cliff was sheer. I got my phone out and called Duncan.

‘You’re right, it’s still there!’

‘It’ll probably go out with the next tide.’

‘But what if it doesn’t? What if someone spots it and reports it to the police? We can’t risk it. We have to get it, now, and get rid of it.’

‘But how?’

‘Abseil down, it’s the only way.’

‘Rather you than me.’

‘I’ve done it before. But I don’t have the equipment, Jake has. Go to his and get it, will you?’

‘I’m a bit busy at the mo—‘

‘I couldn’t give a toss! Go and get it, NOW! We’re in this together, don’t you forget that!’ I hissed at him.

‘All right, all right. I’ll be there in fifteen. You’re at the bluff, yeah?’

‘Yeah – hurry!’

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and looked around again, still no one about. I carried on walking a bit further ahead so as not to attract any attention. I looked out at the water, the tide was still moving out, good. It would give me time to get down there. I didn’t mind heights, getting down or up wouldn’t be an issue, it was about being seen; there were so many busybodies in this tiny seaside town.

Up until now I thought we were good. It had been a week. There’d been no trace of anything washing up. We’d taken all the body parts out on Duncan’s dad’s fishing rig in the dead of night, to where we knew there was a shark colony, and we’d seen them come up to feed. So how did this leg get missed?

I heard a car horn and watched Duncan pull up in the parking bay. I walked back to the cliff edge and waited. He came rushing up with the ropes and security equipment I’d used with Jake when we’d gone down to Cheddar Gorge. I knew how to set it up, but was worried Duncan wouldn’t be heavy enough to take my weight.

‘Do you think you can hold me?’

‘Oh yeah. I can handle over 200 pounds at the gym, easy.’

I put it on, and he took the line. I walked to the edge and sat down, swinging my legs over.

‘I’ll hang here a minute, while you get your bearings.’

‘Okay.’

I turned round and hung my body over, taking the weight on my arms. Then I pushed my feet into the cliff wall and started to move my weight back. Duncan braced himself, standing firm with the ropes wrapped round him and one arm. He had special gloves on too.

‘You good?’ I asked as I let my weight pull the ropes taut.

‘Yep,’ he said, looking relaxed.

‘Okay, I’m going down.’

I leaned back and started to take steps down, and then I started to release it out quicker, taking a few leaps. I reached the bottom and detached the ropes, rushing over to the rock.

It was covered in bits of seaweed, but there was something strange about it. It wasn’t discoloured or bloated and … oh god, it wasn’t real! It was a bloody mannequin leg! Bloody hell all this over nothing! I was relieved and annoyed at the same time.

I walked back to the rope, and reattached myself. I tugged twice on the rope, and felt it go taut and started the climb back up.

But half way up, I don’t know what happened, but the rope went loose and I lost my footing, kicking out at the last minute so I didn’t slam against the rock further down. I felt a crunch and pain shot through my body. I’d landed on the rock, on top of the leg. I couldn’t move. I just hurt. And then I couldn’t breathe. I tried coughing but there was fluid in my throat and I couldn’t clear it.

I saw a head peep over the top of the cliff, Duncan, and then another head – was that Jake? And then they were gone. To get help I hoped. I lay there on top of the mannequin leg, trying to breathe, but it was getting harder. I waited for the sounds of sirens or a helicopter, even a boat, but there was nothing. I couldn’t hold on much longer, my vision was beginning to fade.