Page 21 of Road to Absolution

CHAPTER 6

Does It Matter?

The inside of my mangled truck was stifling…

The night surrounding the wreck was bleak and threatening.

Disorientated from the crash, I found myself sitting in the driver’s seat, my head hanging forward with blood dripping, peering through the smoke that was already filling what little space I had left in the cab. Heat from the growing fire in the now crumpled engine scorched my trapped feet, awakening my natural instinct to survive.

Even though I was practically immobile due to shock and head trauma, my body jerked, wanting away from the immediate danger. At least, I had thought the fire was my biggest threat.

It wasn’t.

The lone biker was still alive and parking his bike behind the tree that was draining my life.

I watched as he approached… I saw no vest with Redemption Ryder patches. My heart broke as I wished it were Diesel coming to me. But… it wasn’t.

Raindrops trickling down the driver’s side window almost seemed like a forming barrier, trying to shield me from the man standing there with a gun pointed directly at my head.

Nature by fire and manmade gun, both equally deadly, were threatening my very existence. It felt like God and the Devil were both charging toward me at the same time.

The deranged-looking biker grinned, rain dripping from his dark hair and beard. “Unlucky bastard, I guess you ain’t making it home.”

My Forest Gump moment and social media had made me a star. One that grabbed the attention of those who like to snuff out light.

Light…

My Lilah…

Leaning against the driver’s door, the glass between us slightly muffled his voice, but I still heard, “You’re a tough fucker to kill, you know that?”

The barrel of this gun was so foreboding it consumed my full attention except for one thought. Lilah… I’m so sorry, baby…

I wonder if I smiled as my mind began to play tricks on me. Either from hitting my head when I crashed or a metaphysical intervention, I started hearing Van Morrison singing his “Crazy Love.” I could suddenly feel my wife in my arms, laughing as we danced in the living room. Her bare, swollen toes. Me, so entranced I didn’t even know our guests had left.

I wonder if a tear slipped down my cheek as I cried, knowing I would never hold her—

“One! Two! Three…” The referee from early in the night was suddenly with me in the ring again, but this time, I was on my hands and knees as if I had taken a powerful hit. “Four! Five!”

I was suddenly back in my truck, watching the fire crawling up the hood. “W-What’s happening?” I practically gurgled as blood dripped into my mouth from my massive head wound.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Went the tip of the gun barrel on the driver’s side window. “You listening to me, son?”

I starred at the barrel, my life blinking as if a dying battery—

“Did you hear me, son?” Now, I was on the front porch of my childhood home the night officers told me my father had just been killed by a drunk driver. Behind them in the front yard was Delilah, her white cotton dress blowing in the wind. Her smile had me pushing past the cops and down the front steps.

She was smiling, her arms waiting for me…

As soon as they circled me, “Crazy Love” played all around us, like Diesel’s fancy surround sound—

Feeling dazed, I jerked, realizing I was back in my truck, even more smoke billowing in. “No,” I moaned, half-conscious, wanting Lilah with me again.

My vision blurry, I could see the biker was still there, his expression showing how amused he was at my unstable mental capacity. “You trippin’, kid?”

Blood dripped from my gaping lips. “L-Lilah.”

That made the man’s smile grow even more. “Oh yeah, her. Don’t worry, sport. She’ll get hers, too.”—