This story is an entry to 
If you fancy participating, you can find the contest here.
Prompt_Contest_30_Hive
Here is the expected sentence order:
29, 18, 26, 23, 2, 1, 28, 16, 19, 25, 17, 24, 10, 15, 3, 5, 8, 13, 12, 31, 21, 20, 27, 30, 6, 14, 7, 22, 4, 11, 9
Sarah was looking forward to the ivory sand at the beach sliding between her toes, the turquoise water ebbing and flowing at her feet, and the salty mesmerizing wind. Her heart was like the school of dolphins jumping towards the flock of cranes in their effortless flight. The thirteen-year-old, though still in the car, was eagerly looking forward to the treasure hunt at the beach with her parents and school friends.
“Mr Shanon is reversing,” Carl said as he slowed down and noticed that the car ahead of him also was doing the same.
“My God.”
“What?” Carl wasn’t sure what Lana and the others had seen which he was yet to witness, but one thing was sure - Lana’s tone meant all wasn’t well.
“Daddy,” Sarah waved to her friend Jodie in Mr Shanon’s car, “why are they going back?”
Carl finally witnessed through the glare the silhouette of a rundown van with two hippies on their respective instruments. Before Sarah could comprehend much, Carl had reversed the car in a jiffy and put his weight on the accelerator burning rubber in the wake.
“Mom,” Sarah was almost in tears as Carl slowed down “are we not going to the beach?”
“Not today, honey,” Carl’s tone had horror written all over, “today belongs to the reaper conjuring his undeadly quest on his unsuspecting unfortunate game.”
Lana, though shook, wanted to spare Sarah the unsavoury details. “It’s got something to do with the weather, hon,” Lana spoke, “that’s why everybody returned.”
“Next weekend, honey.”
“We’re so close,” Sarah protested.
Carl saw a shiny white Mustang pass them. They appeared outsiders, and he hoped that someone would flag them to turn. Carl heard muffled sobs from the rear and empathized with Sarah’s plight. All the expectation of fun was ruined in a matter of seconds, but facing the Reaper was anything but fun, and two generations before Carl were witness to the carnage unleashed. The hippies by the beach was a legend doing the rounds for two generations, and it all started with a curse.
The story goes that some hippies minding their business near the beach were attacked and killed by a mindless couple. One of the dying hippies cursed the duo to remain undead and remain wretched forever and ever, never to find rest in this life or the next. Carl and the generation before him were brought up to never cross paths with the duo by the rundown van, though they would only reap souls as caustic as them. Nobody intended to test their souls.
“How about a treasure hunt at home,” Carl watched Sarah through the rearview mirror.
“Yes, let’s do it,” Sarah lit up.
“And I am going to make some sandwiches and lemonade,” Lana joined in and was happy that they could salvage the day.
Three Tourists Go Missing.
The newspaper talked about an abandoned Mustang and three tourists missing. Carl thought that few caustic souls were reaped indeed!
Image Courtesy:: Tristancarax
