Page 35 of Evergreen Desires
My good vibes were interrupted by a jolt from behind. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a white van tailgating me. My breath quickened, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. "Is he drunk?" I wondered out loud.
I alternated between watching the road and the van in my mirror, trying to gauge the driver’s intentions. I pressed the gas pedal, increasing my speed by five miles per hour. This road wound around hills and mountains, and I needed to stay focused on the sharp curves and the steep drop-off to my right.
My heart pounded as I glanced back and forth. The van matched my speed, staying dangerously close. As I took a curve too sharply, I caught a glimpse of its side—plain white, with no windows or markings. Fuck, why did it have to be a serial killer van?
I reached for my phone in the passenger seat, my fingers trembling. I needed to call the police. And Beau. Someone—anyone.Pleaselet me have service out here.
Just as my hand closed around the phone, the van slammed into me again—harder this time.
“Shit!”
The phone flew from my grasp, clattering somewhere into the dark footwell. I reached down instinctively, trying to grab it, my eyes darting up just in time to see the road curve sharply ahead.
“Fuck, fuck—”
I yanked the wheel, tires screeching, but it was too late.
The van hit me again—full force.
My car jerked forward violently. The tires lost contact with the road. My stomach dropped as the vehicle lurched toward the edge of the embankment. I barely had time to register what was happening before gravity took over.
The world flipped.
Metal crunched. Glass exploded.
I was weightless—then crushed against the seatbelt.
The car rolled once.
Then again.
Branches scraped across the windshield, shattering it completely. My head slammed into the side window, pain flashing white-hot behind my eyes. I couldn’t tell where up was anymore. Everything spun.
Then, silence.
The car came to a stop—upside down.
I hung there, dazed, held in place by the seatbelt. My arms dangled uselessly toward the roof. Blood was dripping—myblood—trickling down my forehead and into my hair line. Everything was sideways and wrong.
My vision blurred. My thoughts slowed.
I tried to move. Tried to speak. Tried tothink.
And then—
Nothing.
***
When I regained consciousness, I heard sirens in the distance. Suspended upside down, I felt the seatbelt digging into my body. Blood dripped from my forehead, and the smell of gasoline filled the air. Panic surged through me. I fumbled for the seatbelt release, but it was jammed. Fear gripped me as I struggled to free myself. Finally, with a desperate tug, the seatbelt released, and I fell to the ceiling of the car.
Ignoring the pain, I crawled out of the broken window, my hands and clothes smeared with blood and dirt. The van was gone. They’d fled after causing the accident. I stumbled away from the wreckage, the sirens growinglouder. Soon, paramedics and police officers surrounded me, asking questions and checking for injuries. Everything felt like a blur, and I couldn’t stop shaking.
A paramedic shone a light in my eyes, checking for signs of a concussion. "Stay with us, buddy. You're going to be okay."
I tried to nod, but my head pounded, and focusing was difficult. They loaded me onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. All I could think about was Beau. I needed to call him, let him know what happened. But my phone was gone, lost in the wreckage.
In the ambulance, the paramedic continued assessing my injuries, and the adrenaline started to wear off, replaced by pain. I groaned as they started an IV.
