Ashes and Ashes
394 Words
The storm arrived without warning—clouds roared open above the hills, sending heavy rain thundering onto the narrow, winding road where the black van careened through the night. The driver cursed, tightening his grip on the wheel.
“We’re losing traction!”
“Then slow down!”
“We’re behind schedule!”
In the back, Alice huddled against the side of the van, the ropes digging into her skin, her breathing shallow. The road was slick, the tires slipping with every bend. She wasn’t sure where they were going, but something in her gut said they were close to the end of the line.
The man in the passenger seat wiped sweat from his brow. “This road’s too narrow. You’ll flip us if you keep this speed.”
The driver shot him a look. “You wanna drive?”
Then came the turn. A sharp curve too fast. A sudden glare—headlights from an oncoming truck.
A horn blared.
Screams.
The van spun, skidded, and slammed sideways into the embankment. Metal crunched. The vehicle flipped once, then again, landing with a thunderous crash in a ditch below.
The world went still.
Seconds passed. Then, fire.
Smoke hissed from the crumpled hood. Flames flickered under the engine and crept higher.
The driver groaned, dragging himself out through a shattered window. “Get up—get out! The tank—”
His partner stumbled out from the other side, bleeding and limping. “Where’s the girl?”
They searched. Desperately. Frantic.
“She’s not in here!”
“She must’ve been thrown!”
The flames roared higher.
“We don’t have time!”
They scrambled into the trees as the fire consumed the wreck.
Moments later, the explosion rocked the ground—an orange fireball lighting up the rain-slick forest.
The van was gone.
And with it, so was Alice Gold.
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Authorities arrived hours later, alerted by the smoke. They found what was left of the vehicle in ashes. There were no bodies, no survivors. No trace of a young girl.
News spread like wildfire.
Heiress Alice Gold—missing.
Presumed dead.
The city mourned. The Gold family retreated into silence.
But far from the wreckage, hidden beneath the cover of trees and rain, a small figure lay motionless in the underbrush, her dress torn, her skin cold, and her memory… gone.
- Writer
