Jay-dead Edge

Derek hiked along the winding trail. A blue jay swooped down and alit on a log twenty yards in front of him, screeching his warning call. Derek stopped and watched. The bird did not seem flustered at Derek, but at something else. He crept through the underbrush and pulled back a few branches.

Thirty yards away a man dug. He paused and mopped his brow with an old rag. Derek examined the man. He stood about five foot ten, black hair, darker skin tone, and appeared to be Hispanic. If no one knew, he could pass for his brother. Derek took a step forward, but froze as he saw a garbage bag with a bloody arm protruding from it. The small mound of dirt told Derek he had only begun. He’s digging a grave.

Partially exposed, he slipped his leg back and slowly released the branch. Once back in place he expelled an uneasy breath. He retrieved his cell, but the indicator flashed “no service”. As Derek slipped his cell back into his pocket, the jay squawked anew. The man looked up, and with a 9 mm suddenly in his hand he strode forward.

“I see you. Come on out.”

Derek fled, but a bullet grazed his hip and he fell headlong into a tree.

When Derek came to, he was strapped behind the wheel of a running pickup. A goose-egg on his forehead, he still felt groggy. His fingertips burned and bled. The strong smell of gas overwhelmed him. Dressed in the other man’s clothes, confusion beset him.

“I was wondering how I was going to disappear. You have been chosen to die for me.” The man shoved the pickup into drive, and it met its fiery end at the bottom of the cliff.



297 Words
Flash Story Must contain the line: "you have been chosen"