Have you ever read a book and when you were done wished that you could have written the book yourself? Well, here is your chance to be part of a fun and creative story writing contest …

How to Win:

It is such a wonderful honor to have 7 gifted writers to begin our story this year and in alphabetical order (by first name ), they are.

And here is our story …

Caitlin rolled down the car window and surveyed the landscape. Desert. Emptyness. Arid, cracking ground that wasn’t fit for anything other than a scorpion. Maybe a rattler too. Tumbleweeds blew up on the horizon; cactus shadows stood at odd angles, jarring and pointed from the overhead sun. Crap, she thought. Just crap. Of course I’d be the one sent out here on a ridiculous wild-goose chase. Of course, Willis sent me. He’s never liked me, never thought I was halfway decent at sniffing out a trail. Caitlin sighed, squinted up toward the sun, and the creaked open the truck door. Let’s do this, she thought. Let’s prove that bastard Willis wrong. She took the long step down, slamming the door behind her and set off.

She’d only been walking for a few minutes when it started happening. Not now– please not now, she silently prayed, struggling to remind herself that it was just an illusion. At least that’s what the doctors had told her when they couldn’t come up an explanation. “Post traumatic stress,” they said as if she’d just returned from a war zone. Her ex had put it more bluntly, “Caitlin, you’ve lost your mind.” Maybe he was right, but she can’t go crazy in the desert. Alone. People die out here all the time, as she and Willis
know too well. Caitlin took a deep breath. Don’t get distracted because that’s when rattlers bite, scorpions sting and mountain lions come out of hiding to taste your fear.

Caitlin closed her eyes, counted to five, and opened them again. The man was still there, sitting on a rock that hadn’t been there before he’d appeared. Golden cuffs encircled his wrist–wrists that were attached to very well muscled arms and a bare chest that glimmered in the intense mid-day sun. Hey, if I’m going to see imaginary men, they might as well be hot as hell. Except she didn’t want to see him. And she knew better than to talk to him. She needed to be alert to danger and concentrate on finding any trace of her quarry. She had to prove to Willis that what had happened hadn’t changed her, that she was still up to the job, that she wasn’t crazy. She needed to prove it to herself too. But the man still sat there, watching her. Waiting.

She tried to ignore him–he wasn’t real after all–and turned her attention to the job at hand.  The man she was tracking would need shelter and water, and there were only so many places to find those in this landscape.  He couldn’t go far.  She squinted up at the blazing sun, checked the compass on her watch, and began walking again.  “He didn’t go that way.” She stopped at the sound of the deep voice, before turning slowly.  They’d never spoken to her before, these illusions.

“Come here often?” he said.  Really?  Even in an illusion she couldn’t do better than a cheesy pick up line?  What was next: Is it hot out here or is it just me? Clearly she was losing her mind and it was Willis’ fault. “What you talking about Willis?” she remembers saying, as he handed her the dossier and said she would need to leave immediately. She never liked or trusted him and he never appreciated her skills, humor or knowledge of 70′s TV sitcoms.  But seriously, what was Willis talking about? It wasn’t her turn in the rotation.  With Carter out sick, Davis should have been next.  Nevertheless, Willis gave her this assignment. He knew what this heat could do to her mind, never mind to her hair. Despite the hallucinations, she was seeing things clearly now.  He was trying to break her…prove she was unstable.  He was protecting himself.  She knew too much. And with that, she had to determine her next move.

She ignored muscle man, her feet making determined stomps on the dirt as she trudged south. She wiped sweat from her brow. How long had she been out of the sweet escape of air conditioning in her car – ten minutes? It felt closer to an hour. “Ma’am, I’m telling ya – he didn’t go that way.” Caitlin froze once again at the baritone voice. It couldn’t be the hallucination. They never spoke. Was she getting even worse? Would Willis go this far to hope she had another breakdown on the job? Caitlin slowly turned on one heel, looking back at the man. He was standing now, walking towards her. Caitlin felt her heart start to race, and she slowly drew her right arm back, reaching for her weapon. “Don’t come any closer!” she commanded, mentally cheering herself for the shake that wasn’t in her voice.

The man stopped and cocked his head to the side. “You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” he asked. She kept her eyes locked on his and didn’t answer, even though doubts began to tickle her mind. This area was deserted; you could walk for miles and never glimpse another person. So why did it seem like he’d known she’d be here – like he’d been waiting for her? “If you really want to find him, follow me.” He turned around and began walking again. Caitlin exhaled, removed her slippery fingers from her gun, and dried them on her shorts. She could feel the sun biting at the tender, pale skin exposed by the her v-neck t-shirt. She should have brought more water.  She took a few slow steps, then looked back, but the man was gone. She was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment mingle with her relief.

The Prizes for 9 winners: