As she clung the underside of the car, the only thing Eve could think was that this wasn’t a very good idea. Wind ripped at her, trying to pull her free, and she could feel her cold fingers losing their grip.
No, she thought. I won’t fall. I can’t fall.
She tried to keep her eyes ahead and not on the icy ground far below her. She tried not to think that if she lost her grip for a moment, she would plummet to certain death.
I have a mission. Follow the target. Stay close to him. Hope he leads me to his master.
She couldn’t have been much closer if she tried. She was right beneath him. Her hope was that she was clinging close enough to the car that nobody would see her.
Breathe. Stay calm. Stay alert.
The station was just ahead: grey buildings set into the stark mountainside. There were armed guards on duty. If they saw her, she’d die.
There was a small ladder just below the entrance. She’d have to jump: not too early or she’d die, not too late or they’d kill her.
Eve took a deep breath.
Word Count: 200
This is my entry for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction.