This is one of the stories I worked on while taking the Holly Lisle class: How to write Flash Fiction the Doesn’t Suck. (https://howtothinksideways.com/) I know, great title. Anyway, this one seemed appropriate for the 4th of July Weekend. Enjoy!
“I have a meeting.”
Mom looked worried and grabbed her arm. “Alana, don’t. It’s too dangerous.”
She patted her mother’s arm. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Leaving the house she pulled her hood up. She didn’t need any nosy neighbor turning her in to the patrols.
Alana stood at the front of the barn and clapped her hands to start the meeting. Stron, the owner of the barn and her first convert, stood to the side of the hay bale she stood on. “It’s time to stop talking. Now is the time to fight and get the rest of us to rise against the oppressors. I’ve found out the Mayor is travelling from the capital to his summer villa by Lake Osaka. I intend us to attack his convoy and stuff our demands down his throat.”
“That’s a hundred miles away, the middle of nowhere,” Stron shouted. Many in the crowd of 40 agreed with him.
“Yes, that way the oppressors won’t know which village to punish.”
“How will that get the rest of the villages to rebel?”
“It shows we’re doing something, anything to overthrow these oppressors.”
“We’ll get killed,” she heard shouted from the back.
“It will prove our passion!”
It took some argument but she assembled a team of four others. The day of the raid dawned overcast. She scanned the sky as her team assembled. “There’ll be rain later. That’s good; the Mayor’s guards will be less alert.”
Stashing the truck a quarter mile from the road they set up the ambush. When the convoy approached, the lookout whistled.
Letting the first truck pass they attacked the second and fourth vehicles. Converging on the Mayor’s car, third in line, the driver and guard opened fire. Alana tossed a tear-gas grenade in through the open window. The two men and the Mayor fled the car. She tackled the Mayor as he knelt, gasping for air. The rest of the team took care of the driver and guard.
“Mr. Mayor,” she jerked him up. “The oppression must stop.” She jammed the list of demands into his mouth.
That was when the Imperial troopers arrived from both road directions. Her four teammates took off for the truck, leaving her behind. The troopers captured her just inside the woods.
A week later Alana was hanged in her village square, her mother wailing at the front of the crowd. The rebels from the barn remembered her passion. The revolt began, Alana’s name cried during each attack. “For Alana!”
Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here:http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html