Second Chances – Flash Fiction

February 15th, 2013 by Theresa

“Didn’t used to be a war, you know.”

Cherie rolled her eyes at the MP who walked her to the cells. The lower levels of the army base were cold and damp. She bore down on a shiver refusing to show weakness.

“Not so long ago,” he continued, “This base had kids camps. Shoulda been there. Laughter echoed these walls and gum was under every classroom desk.”

Cherie twisted her wrists against the cuffs in vain. Dejected, she feigned a yawn and sniffed. as they walked away from the elevator and took the stairs down.

“See back then? Knew a real officer by how they worked with kids – especially the screw ups.”

Cherie’s nervousness rose with each degree the temperature dropped. Down and down they went. Just from memory, she knew they were well past the holding cells. Only things in the base’s basement were the furnace and the morgue. Handy places to dispose of bodies.

“Yep, had to know how to handle the difficult ones,” the MP went on. “Had to know when to punish them right or slap them on the wrist.” Finally they stopped. The MP undid the Cherie’s cuffs and turned her around.

“Down this hall are the tunnels. Stay left. It’s the way out. Don’t get caught next time. You need gas? You get it from my car. I got an extra tank.”

Cherie stared at the MP as he walked back up the stairs. A heartbeat later, she ran for her freedom.



As appeared on Thursday Threads with Siobhan Muir

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