Another Crash

The next part after "Catch."

The door chimed as I entered the store. I heard the roar of engines leaving as I moved toward the cashier. Everything was quiet again. The cashier groaned on the ground, making eye contact. The blood around him was pooling and spreading. I couldn’t move. I felt this longing inside. A longing to do something—to help this man. I couldn’t understand what to do. I thought of Her.

The cashier spoke through clenched teeth, “Take off your belt.”

I was shocked into action.

“Ok, ok,” I responded, unbuckling.

“Put it around the top of my thigh and tighten. Pull hard.”

“Yes, yes.” I wrapped the belt around where his leg met his torso and pulled as hard as I could. He groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head and collapsed, completely relaxed and unresponsive. He was still breathing. I grabbed my radio. “Cecil! Cecil, are you there?!” Static.

“Yeah, I’m here, kid.”

“Cecil, I need you to call an ambulance. I’ve got a guy here, shot in the leg. He’s lost a lot of blood. I’m at a liquor store up the road.”

“Stay put.”

* * *

I’m not entirely sure how much time passed. It felt like hours. I did all I could to clean up the blood. After that, there was nothing I could do. I sat and stared at the bleeding cashier, hoping he might be alright. I sat, head in my arms, trying to think of anything other than the present moment. I watched the cashier’s body, still feeling that same burning feeling down inside my gut. I saw my passenger, Alex’s face, transposed onto the cashier. Then it was the girl, Mallory. Then it was back to the cashier.

The paramedics and police arrived before Cecil’s car. Red and blue flashes blasted through the night air and into the dirty light of the liquor store. I sat on the ground, knees to my chest, head to my knees. The paramedics came in with a stretcher and gathered in a mass around the unconscious cashier. The police followed afterward. They approached me, asking about what I saw. I gave them as much as I could. Even though it had just happened, I can remember more about it now than I could while I was in the store. Many notes and pencil scratches later, the police finally left me alone. I went back to gazing into the sky, leaning against the wall this time. First responders bustled around behind me, but I heard none of it. Cecil approached me, plaid shirt and all. “Come on, kid,” he said, “Let’s go.” I nodded. Moving felt like swimming. I slugged along and found myself in the passenger seat of Cecil’s car.

“What’s your exit?” Cecil asked.

“I’m not sure. I just need to get onto Route One.”

Cecil took off the parking brake and turned onto the highway.

* * *

“Where am I?” I asked after a while. I could see the wind outside, but it couldn’t quite reach me here.

“South Forty-Four,” Cecil responded.

“Oh… right.” It was as if I had been sleeping. “...I met a girl tonight.”

“You said.”

“Yeah… where could she be?”

Cecil gave me a long look. “She could be anywhere.”

“She may have even left the highway,” I whispered.

“She didn’t.”

“She didn’t?”

“She didn’t.”

Cecil sounded so sure. “Why would she still be here?” I asked.

“If she couldn’t leave before, she won’t leave by doing the same thing over and over.”

“How do you know?”

“She hasn’t so far. I doubt she’ll be able to pull it off again.”

I took a moment to process what he was telling me. “How many times has she tried to leave this highway?” I asked.

“I’m not sure at this point,” Cecil responded. “She showed up here about two weeks ago. I’m not sure how she got here. Usually it’s some sort of car accident, but she rode her bike down here. She’s been trying to ride that thing out of here ever since.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, of course not.”

“Can I see her before we leave?” I asked.

“I don’t recommend it,” Cecil responded.

“But you can find her?”

“People aren’t that hard to find. The problem is usually getting to them once you know where they are.”

“But do you know where she is?” I asked.

“Did she go back to the diner?”

“Yeah, I think. Is that where she is?”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“Will she come back to the diner?”

“Possibly, if she makes it that far. I doubt her friends will let her get that far.”

My listlessness had deafened me to Cecil’s last sentence. I had moved on. The vacuum of darkness that surrounded us left me ample room to think and consider my circumstances. “Is this it?” I turned again to Cecil.

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw a guy get shot in the leg. Isn’t there more to this?”

“Didn’t you give your statement to the police?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re all good, then. Those boys will leave you alone.”

My stomach turned when I thought about going home that night. Home seemed a padded cell. We approached exit eight. Green signs started appearing from the dark fog. “Where can I drop you off?” Cecil asked.

“Any diner or place where I can sit would be nice. I should have enough reception to get a taxi.”

“I can do that. I think we’ll spill out onto a shopping drag.”

Just then, a headlight appeared in my side mirror. I heard a roar, and a flash of light sped by us. A vehicle cut us off and sped towards the exit. It was a small, run-down motorbike, just big enough to ride on major highways. It was black, with a torn seat and dents scattered about its frame. I saw a set of somewhat familiar curls flying in the wind behind the bike, pinned down by a beat-up helmet. My God, I couldn’t believe it. Before I could get a good look, the rider took the turn into exit eight. I heard a screech, and in the blink of an eye, the rider and motorbike hit the ground. The bike was far too unstable for the sharp turn. Sparks flew from the bike as it skidded into the guardrail. The rider rolled for several feet, helmet cracking, bleeding. Cecil stopped the car. I ran out. Cecil followed.

I met the rider on the ground and instinctively removed the helmet. Staring back at me were Her glowing features. Those features that I had spent so long observing in the diner. Maybe I had summoned her. She was breathing.

“Cecil,” I said. He was closer now. “She seems ok.”

“She’s blacked out. Hit her head. I’m calling an ambulance,” Cecil replied.

A soft voice called out from under me. “Don’t,” it said. She had woken up. “If you do, I won’t cooperate. I’ll leave.”

“Why in God’s name wouldn’t you want help?” Cecil asked.

“I don’t have the time,” She said. “I’m trying to leave.”

“That’s a bad reason,” Cecil responded.

“So be it. It’s my choice.”

I piped up. “Cecil, can we at least take her back to the diner?”

I turned to Her.

“I’m hungry anyway,” She said, reserving eye contact.

She stumbled as she stood, grasping her knee. A sharp gasp left her throat. I moved to give her more help.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” She insisted.

She was in amazing pain, pushing through. For the first time that night, as she turned, I made full eye contact with Her. I felt an overwhelming urge to never leave her side. Something boiled up inside me. Nothing as primal as what I was used to managing. Something more rational, more complete. A desire, in that moment, to carry Her to the car. A desire for this to be the last time I was surprised to see her. Her eyes called out, and I wanted desperately to call back. I said nothing. I helped her into the car. Cecil got into the driver’s seat, and I sat next to him. He turned around, and we started driving back, into the dark.