Sample Post from the Science Fiction Genre this Month:
Mirasol posts in Planet of the Apes
When Adam shouted, “Fire, fire!” Mirasol glanced around, confused. She saw Adam and Kevin running towards the trucks. Everyone starting getting into the vehicles, racing away from the spreading flames. Where the hell had the fire come from? There wasn’t a cloud in the sky: no lightning. They hadn’t lit a fire for lunch. Mirasol grabbed at one of the horses, hoping that others would realize the animals didn’t do well with fire. Throwing her hoodie over the horse’s eyes, she ran with the horse in tow, getting him away from the fire that snapped and crackled quickly through the brush.
“Tony!” she cried, but he was already gone in the SUV.
Sooty smoke billowed around her and the shivering horse. She was suddenly alone, cut off from the others by the tongues of flame and flying embers. Pulling the blind-folded horse, Mirasol headed down a dry gully, hoping the dirt and sand would slow the fire down, cutting perpendicular to the flames’ travel. She faintly remembered that fire often ran up canyons, but this was little more than a fold in the hills. Hoping the horse was better now that the flames were out of sight, she pulled away the jacket. The gelding’s eyes dark eyes were rimmed in white and he let out a squeal. Terrified herself, Mirasol tried to put on a good face and stroked his long nose, scratching the little velvet square above his lip.
“Ok, baby, it’s ok,” she said.
Climbing up she nudged him forward, down the gully. In back of them she could hear the pop and crackle, the distant roar as the heart of the fire gained strength. Mirasol hoped and prayed that the others had found a way out. Urging her mount into a canter, she headed away from the gray and black smoke that billowed high into the air. She felt lost. Ash began to fall like the snow she’d never seen, thick pale gray flakes that stank of smoke. Mirasol dared to go above the gully, kicking the frighten horse in the ribs a couple of times before he climbed up the steep grassy bank. She regretted it immediately.
The horse reared, Mirasol clutching at the reins and mane. The fire was closer than she realized, spreading from the origin like a huge flower of flame. It ran up the hills and was flashing from tree crown to crown. The grassy hills looked like huge chunks of burning charcoal, black and gray edged with bright orange flame. The scalloped edged of the fire was running quickly, an old house going up like a bomb. The horse yanked hard on her grip. Holding on, she jerked him around and kicked him hard. He leapt away at a gallop, throwing her to the ground. Mirasol huffed, the air knocked from her lungs. There wasn't time to recover. Struggling to her fee, she ran back towards the camp.
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