Fiction: The Mountain Retreat

Behind the open gate, parallel lines of traction cut across from the grassy field and tangled their way up the scarred the mountain. Vehicles deepened the ruts each time they meandered toward the peak. It was a one way road. Only up. Never down.

Trees reached for the sky from the plains, engulfed by the greedy shadows of those so fortunate to have germinated further up. Sunlight glittered against a metallic speck, slowly winding its way up the hillside, vanishing from time to time below a tree canopy.

The vehicle rumbled in low gear, tyres complaining periodically at the undulating ground providing unequal traction from front to rear, left to right. Through the windscreen, a cabin was visible. The passengers, a family smiled in excitement. Their child cheered. The parents did too, for it was the last they'd hear of "Are we there yet?" For today, at least.

Dusk fell upon the hungry trees, telling them that meal time was over. The engine fell silent with a shudder. Doors opened. The sound of footsteps mulching up leaves as they walked toward the cabin sparked the curiosity of birds, and they chirped with interest.

"Retreat" read the modern sign, juxtaposing the old cabin. The key entered the well worn keyhole smoothly. A wrist turned, veins and blood vessels working away under the skin. The door opened. It was tranquil.

The woman, the man, the child, they all piled on into the dim cabin, gleefully inhaling the rich smells of an old world, hearing the dense quiet a place of tranquillity. The child ran around the cabin, given an excuse to stretch their legs, and explore their new surroundings. The couple put an arm around each other's waists and took in their new, temporary home.

"Should be a quiet week." He remarked.

Windows bathed in golden light, each was a picture frame presenting a painting of the living, breathing forest outside its boundary. The wind disheveled the trees outside.

"No social media here" She smiled.

The child had ceased his bounding around the cabin, and came to join the embrace.

"Just family" He said.

"Help me with the luggage, dad." The woman turned to exit the cabin, and the man followed to help with the bags. The child was now sitting on the couch, gazing into the empty fireplace.

The door closed behind them, unlocked. They'd be back in just a moment.

The child imagined the fire burning in the fireplace, cracking, still wet timber hissing out steam as it burned through countless cold nights. The ground shook for a moment. His eyes went wild, and he ran out to see what was going on "Mummy, Daddy?" he asked in the sudden darkness. Why was it dark?

The air stank of sulphur, and the parents sprinted to their child. A cataclysmic tremor started and seemed to continue unending - and with the unrelenting noise, their hearing was taken. Then their vision. They held onto each other, wide eyed and panicked. The sign, "Retreat" had fallen from its perch, and lay by the side of the huddled family.

---

Author's Notes: This was a story written as "homework" for my weekly writer's group. The prompt was a simple one, Volcano, and I extended it, to try and skirt around immediately being about an eruption or bumbling lava. Better to introduce the mountain as a character, with beasts (humanity) crawling upon it, before it blew up.

Could they survive? Maybe? Did I kill them? Technically, no. Did I put them in a positiion where survival is unlikely? Maybe.