Page 1 of Reindeer in the Headlights
1
WYNDHAM
I was terrified of the dentist, but I wouldn’t mind if I was sitting in that chair, hands gripping the armrests with my eyes shut tight and that horrific drill whirring in my mouth.
Yeah, I’d like to be at the dentist right now rather than where I was headed. And that was the dreaded office Christmas party.
Ugh! I enjoyed the holidays as much as anyone, but I hated the forced holiday cheer when everyone at the office was gathered in one place. Not to work but to drink too much, and that alcohol loosened their tongues.
I wasn’t a Christmas Scrooge ‘cause I loved the lights, music, and the giving of presents, but I was head of Human Resources, so I was the guy who had to deal with the person dancing on the table, the one whipping their dress or pants off, or staff abusing the boss. Last year Ross from sales photocopied his butt, and the year before, Marcy from accounting professed her undying love to the CEO’s husband.
Most of my colleagues shrugged at the outrageous behavior and got their butts back home. But me? I had to get in the midst of the problems which extended into the holiday season.
Merry Christmas to me.
I squinted through the windshield as snowflakes swirled in my headlights. I wasn’t a fan of snow when I was driving in it, but preferred to be in bed, reading, with a hot drink at my side while cuddling under my grandmother’s thick quilt.
The roads were hazardous because snow was falling on top of ice, and I crawled along, hands gripping the steering wheel. Maybe the weather was so bad, the Christmas party would be cancelled.
Whose idea was it to have the party out here in the sticks? We were headed to a lodge that gave us a great deal, which was why we weren’t in a city hotel.
The phone buzzed in the cupholder where I’d shoved it, but I ignored it because it was probably Angie from Marketing who’d insisted we all wear the ridiculous ugly Christmas sweaters. Mine was on the passenger seat, and I was convinced it was mocking me.
The GPS said I had another fifteen minutes to the lodge. I preferred any Christmas activities surrounded by noise, pollution, and streetlights rather than being amid the woods and whatever lurked in the undergrowth.
I had fifteen minutes, now fourteen and thirty seconds, to prepare myself, and I took deep breaths, not that it did any good.
There was a flash of something in the headlights. My brain registered what was happening in small bites. What I was seeingwas tiny, dark, and fast. Shoot, it was a kitten racing over the road, and when I finally put it together, I jerked the wheel hard to the left.
The rational part of my brain, the HR one that calculated risks and consequences, registered that it was a mistake the second I did it. You didn’t swerve for animals, no matter how much you loved them. You were supposed to brake and hope for the best. But instinct told me to avoid hitting anything, especially a tiny kitten.
Oh shoot, the tires hit a patch of ice and everything went sideways.
The car spun, and I left my stomach behind. Trees, the road, and the trees again sped in a circle around me. The headlights sliced through the darkness, and it felt as though it was never going to end until the car lurched.
Oh gods, was this it? Was this the end of me?
There was a screeching of metal, and the seatbelt strained across my chest as the airbag exploded in my face. Christmas music blasted from the speakers while I tried to process what had happened.
My face ached from the impact of the airbag, and my chest hurt, but I was alive. At least I assumed I was. I wriggled my fingers and toes and nothing appeared to be broken.
But my next thought was that I had the perfect excuse to skip the Christmas party, and I laughed. Even to my ears it had a hint of hysteria. I could spend the evening at home instead of making sure some dude didn’t spike the punch.
I had to phone a friend or my boss or perhaps a tow truck, but when I groped for the phone, it wasn’t in the cupholder. I unbuckled the seat belt and slid my hand over the floor, and that was when a sharp pain radiated up my leg from my ankle.
Damn. It was sprained, or worse, broken, and if I couldn’t put weight on it, I’d need crutches or a stretcher, and on this slippery road, that was going to be a problem.
After fumbling on the floor, I found the phone and held it up in the dim light from the dashboard. The display showed a mountain range at sunrise, the one from the manufacturer because I was too boring to change it. But there were no signal bars.
I did try, and I sat watching the spinning circle while I searched for a connection. I was in a ditch, my leg was killing me, and I couldn’t call for help. The panic that had been festering and which I’d held back began to creep over me.
But as I gulped and pushed it back, a mewing broke through the silence.
Oh damn, the kitten. I’d forgotten about it.
I wound down the window and was hit by a blast of cold air. Peering into the darkness with the snow falling heavier than before, I couldn’t see anything resembling a kitten.
“Hey, kitty, kitty. Come here.”
