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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1547058
A recreation of the nursery rhyme.
Thunder shook the world a second after the lightning had lit it. The ants were not far from their home. Filed one by one they made decent time, but some thought they wouldn’t make it before the rain came.

Lightning flashed again, and was followed almost immediately by thunder. Ants looked up to peer at the sky, and some cried out at what they saw. A bubble of water was descending directly above a group of them. They scrambled trying to run ahead, only to cause panic in the marching line.

The globule struck hard and launched water back in to the air, along with several of the ants. A baby ant stood near where the rain had hit, thumb in his mouth and tears streaking down his face, crying for his parents. An ant ran up, picked him up, and carried him back in to the formation, which was now two by two. The panic had caused people to rush forward, creating another column.

Breaking free of the grip, the little one started to walk on his own. A boom echoed from the heavens and shook the world once more, causing several to stumble and more to panic. The child had stubbed his foot, and was on the ground again.

The ant that had picked him up and carried him in the line had gone ahead with the rush of ants. Yet another ant leaned down and helped the little one until he claimed he could walk on his own again.

More rain started to fall and the ground was sucking it up, becoming a mud pit. The little one had the idea to climb a blade of grass and get out of harms way, maybe even see the surrounding distance. Panicked ants pushed by him, three by three, as he made his way of to the side and up the grass.

The view was magnificent. A forest, soon to be marsh, of grass spanned the distance in all directions. Monstrous things of the “humans” world were at the horizon. A rain drop fell at precisely the wrong spot, causing the blade of grass he stood on to send him flying through the air. The mud truly was not a bad thing, as it’s cushion is what saved him.

“There is a tunnel ahead, hurry child!” An ant yelled that at him as he ran by in a group, now four by four. He started to run and realized he was at the very end of the line, the last ant. Holding open the entrance, an ant waved his arms for the child to hurry. He flew in to the entrance, turned and helped push the rock to close the entrance.

Looking about, he saw that this was not a real tunnel, but part of a sanctuary. It was not meant to hold this many people. “Take a breather, kid. This place is too packed so a good many of us will have to leave and find another place. Since you were the last…” The ant didn’t need to say it since everyone knew the creed. ‘If you were the last, you are the first.’ Meaning if you are the last person to enter a place, in such conditions as this, you will be the first to exit, making sure the way is clear. Every ant learned that when they were a larvae.

Minutes past and the ant looked at him, concern radiating from his antennae. “It is time, we need to leave.”

The little one nodded his understanding and moved next to the rock. Digging a little at the top of it revealed no water leaking in, that was always a good thing. He pulled, heaving the rock back to the side. “It’s clear, but we need to swim.” His call was greeted with several sighs of relief.

The filed at the entrance, five by five, and waited. He dove in and made it across easy enough. He waited long enough for the first twenty five to reach him, then began his march. He was now the leader, the one in charge. He had to think like a leader and plan for things that would come. There might not be shelter close to where they were. Scanning as they ran, he started looking for anything they could use.

Rain continued to pound the ground, just as hard as it had before they went to shelter, but now the ground was truly beginning to become dangerous. He spotted a stick and got the idea for their next shelter if they couldn’t find one in the ground. He motioned them to continue on as he broke off, when a drop smashed into their ranks, creating more chaos.

Six by six groups now, rushing to potential shelter. He began picking up sticks that could be used as cover if needed. Rain smacked the back end of the bundle he carried on his back, causing it to launch free of his grip and away from him. He felt like a fool, thinking that would have been enough for shelter. He left it, and rushed toward the front, where his spot was.

It started to fall harder, the drops were getting bigger. Chaos had taken command from the child and some time during the next moments of their rush they had become formations of seven by seven. Thunder and Lightning blinded and deafened the ants once more. “Oh dear god…” He started to pray, asking for forgiveness, help, and anything else he could think of.

Looking back, the groups were now eight by eight, he saw worried looks on many faces. He turned back around and knew where he was on sight. Another sanctuary lay not far from here. He told the front group of eight by eight where to go and held back, making sure each group knew how to get there, until he was the last one again.

An exhausting run led him to be the one to close the entrance again. Ants muttered about this sanctuary as they were crammed atop and next to each other. The sight was not a good one. Sighing, the leader told them they needed to form up, nine by nine, an unheard of formation, when they left this spot to go on. He convinced them it would help them make even better time. At that, he dug a little around the rock and looked out to see if there was any way to tell how late it was, but the clouds and rain were just too thick. He pushed aside the rock and ran out, waiting for the first formation until he started off again.

A mound in the distance made everyone excited and people shoved forward and mingled, making it ten by ten. “It is the end!” He cried. He moved out of the way, to make sure the ants in the back knew what was ahead. As each group of ten by ten passed him by he told them they were at the end of this horrible journey. Finally, they would be home.
© Copyright 2009 M. C. Auley (rmcauley at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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