Coffee House Writers

Top Menu

Main Menu

  • Home
  • Article Categories
    • Creativity
    • Culture
    • Design
    • Family
    • Fashion
    • Fiction
    • Food
    • Environment
    • Health
    • Home
    • Lifestyle
    • Memories
    • Nonfiction
    • Poetry
    • Politics
    • Relationships
    • Sports
    • Style
    • Technology
    • Travel
  • About Us
    • Our Story
    • Our Founder
  • Meet Our Admin
    • Chief Editors
    • Editors
    • Poetry Editors
    • Advertising Team
    • Recruiting Team
  • Testimonials
  • Apply
  • Login

logo

Coffee House Writers

  • Home
  • Article Categories
    • Creativity
    • Culture
    • Design
    • Family
    • Fashion
    • Fiction
    • Food
    • Environment
    • Health
    • Home
    • Lifestyle
    • Memories
    • Nonfiction
    • Poetry
    • Politics
    • Relationships
    • Sports
    • Style
    • Technology
    • Travel
  • About Us
    • Our Story
    • Our Founder
  • Meet Our Admin
    • Chief Editors
    • Editors
    • Poetry Editors
    • Advertising Team
    • Recruiting Team
  • Testimonials
  • Apply
  • Login
  • I’ll Never Live Up to the Call

  • Skinchangers Chapter 2.2

  • Behind Your Mirror

  • A Gap In Time – 1

  • Saying Goodbye to NCIS: Los Angeles After 14 Years

  • Love’s Cut

  • A New York Summer

  • Welcome to Hell: How Can I Help You?

  • Paradise Falls: Chapter 1

  • Cloaked Miracles, Part 3

  • Becoming a Mother

  • A New Home

  • Unlock Your Hidden Potential: How to Tackle an Extraordinary Challenge with Ease

  • Appreciate Your Talent

  • Writing With ADHD: How Hard Could it be?

  • Southern Ways – Part 1

  • Skinchangers Chapter 2.1

  • The Book

  • The Familiar Mask

  • The Mystery of Cash Castle: Part 14

  • Shivering Leaves

  • Calming the Chaos of the Heavy Mental Load

  • Paradise Falls: Prologue

  • May Flowers

  • New Diagnosis, Same Person

  • Pierce

  • The Deadline

  • Cloaked Miracles, Part 2

  • Ma Millie-7

  • A Road Not Taken

ThrillerFictionHorror
Home›Thriller›In Light of the Night, Chapter Fourteen

In Light of the Night, Chapter Fourteen

By Douglas Hoagland
September 19, 2022
299
0
Share:
road at night
Lucas Pezeta / Pexels
This entry is part 14 of 14 in the series In Light of the Night

In Light of the Night
  • In Light of the Night
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Two
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Three
  • In Light of the Night Chapter Four
  • In Light of the Night, Chapter Five
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Six
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Seven
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Eight
  • In Light of the Night: Chapter Nine
  • In Light of the Night, Chapter Eleven
  • In Light of the Night-Chapter Ten
  • In Light of the Night, Chapter Twelve
  • In Light of the Night, Chapter Thirteen
  • In Light of the Night, Chapter Fourteen

The biggest driftwood log I could manage to roll into the whitewater river now bobbed in and out of the rapids—with me clutching to the top of it.

I gripped the makeshift handles I chiseled out with sharp stones. My bare feet and hands had long since gone numb and locked up, though I was frequently reminded by Don that if I let go, I would drown. Just in case I forgot this through my increasingly hypothermic brain.

The thin sliver of moon glinted off the surface of the waves as I gasped for air through sputters of river water.

Don hovered alongside the log with me in the river, telling me when to duck under a low-hanging branch or try to lean the log and steer it away from an incoming rock formation.

My head dunked under the surface again with the log, though this time, when I came up for air, Ella was on my right, shouting.

“They’re approaching the other side of the river bank less than a mile away! I’ll keep scouting the perimeter, but not much more I can do there. I tried taking out their electronics, but I need to be close to you for that, Violet. And close to them….” Ella trailed off and looked nervously at Don before both nodded.

“It’s time, Violet,” Don said.

“Fuck. Okay.” I gripped the handles with my toes and frigid fingers.

“If this is it for me, will I see you on the other side?” I asked both of them, not sure what answer I expected to hear.

They both glanced at each other before Ella spoke first.

“You’re gonna make it, Violet, so just focus on the task at hand. Plus, you must know by now that I’ll be with you no matter which realm you go to.” Ella gave a reassuring smile.

“Same here,” Don added with a clasp of his burly hand to my shoulder.

“Alright, cool. Famous maybe-last-words then? FUCK those guys,” I replied before rolling the log over.

Already soaked to the bone before, being completely submerged in the river didn’t much change the fact that I wouldn’t last much longer in this temperature.

What did feel different was the strain on my neck as I tried for my life to keep my head against the side of the log to gasp for even smaller gulps of air.

“You good?” Don asked.

I grunted, unable to do anything more as I floated along on the underside of the log.

My mind quickly turned numb, as well, as minutes, maybe hours, passed like that.

“Now,” Don finally said into my ear.

I took the deepest breath I could and put my head fully under, scraping my nose on the log as I clung motionless.

What must have been twenty of the longest seconds of my life later, Don was yelling at my head just above the surface of the water again, knowing only I could hear him and Ella.

“BREATHE! They’re looking away.”

No sooner did I come up to gasp for air as silently as I could than Don shouted again.

“Down!”

Fuck, I thought with panic as I pulled my head back down into the water.

This routine happened a dozen more times or so. Ella sweeping the riverbank and relaying the whereabouts of incoming soldiers on the hunt, as Don kept eyes on a swivel near my log.

Soldiers searched the river when I was within distance of the heat sensors, and I went under.

They looked away for a moment, and I came up for a mouthful of air.

This worked great for what felt like hours, though it was probably minutes in retrospect—until I was told to go under and not come back up.

Twenty seconds passed. Thirty. Forty.

By the time I realized I needed air, no matter the cost, I could no longer lift my head.

My vision blackened inwards from the edges, and my gripping fingers, toes, and legs no longer obeyed their master.

I fell and then floated in darkness of what could only be the night sky.

Series Navigation<< In Light of the Night, Chapter Thirteen
Tagsparanormal thrillerfictionmysteryfantasyescapesuperpowers
Previous Article

Gendered Space

Next Article

A Productive Day at Work

0
Shares
  • 0
  • +
  • 0
  • 0
  • 0
  • 0

Douglas Hoagland

Updated version as of 8/4/22: Douglas Hoagland was a high school English and Creative Writing teacher living in Thailand for four years before recently moving back to America with his stunningly clever and adventurous wife. Hoagland received his Bachelor’s degree at Hobart and William Smith Colleges (HWS) in Geneva, NY where he majored in English concentrated in Creative Writing, and earned dual-minors in French and European Studies. Hoagland did this while being a journalist for the HWS Communications Department, studying abroad in Rome at Scuola Leonardo da Vinci, being a guitarist/vocalist in a band, and an intramural soccer champion among other things (the last of which being a half-joke). Hoagland is currently teaching middle school ELA, Creative Writing, and Social Studies, while freelance writing and pursuing his MFA in Creative Writing online through SNHU. He is beginning his attempts at sticking his foot through the door of the published writers’ world. He enjoys spinning tales, playing guitar, and toying with human languages as well as attempting rudimentary-level communication, primarily with the canis lupus familiaris subspecies. Hoagland also enjoys martial arts in life and in stories, and holds a black belt in TaeKwonDo. When Hoagland is not talking to dogs or doing any of the other above mentioned activities, he might be playing chess with his wife or enjoying nature with a good book.

Related articles More from author

  • Police Caravan
    MusicCreativityFiction

    Pianoforte – Part 9

    October 5, 2020
    By Deannad
  • window at evening
    FictionPoetryFantasyMysteryHorrorThrillerCreativityRelationships

    Someone’s Watching

    April 25, 2022
    By Chelsea Wolfe
  • Bridge in Fall
    ThrillerFictionMemoriesEntertainmentFantasy

    From Cursive to Curses- Part XXVIII

    April 25, 2022
    By Lindsey Gruden
  • CreativityFamilyRelationshipsFictionMemories

    Best Witches Issue 21

    August 19, 2019
    By Marissa Allen
  • Grim Reaper
    HealthCreativityFamilyRelationshipsPoetryMemories

    When The Grim Reaper Comes A Calling

    June 10, 2019
    By Tracie Hicks
  • TravelPoliticsCultureEnvironmentEntertainmentCreativityFamilyRelationshipsFictionMemories

    The Hand That Steers A Kingdom – Part 8

    July 20, 2020
    By Lorelei

Leave a reply Cancel reply

You may be interested

  • MediaCreativityFictionUncategorizedMemoriesHomeCulture

    A Year in Review… of Books!

  • EntertainmentCultureCreativityFictionPoetry

    The Poet’s Life

  • MusicCultureMedia

    The 5 Reasons I Love The Album “What’s Inside: Songs from Waitress”

Find us on Facebook

About us

  • coffeehousewriters3@gmail.com

Follow us

© Copyright 2018-2023 Coffee House Writers. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s administrator and owner is strictly prohibited.