My works

Another batch of snow fell. An eerie dance of flakes in the headlights obscured the visibility of the road so late in the evening. Boulders on the side of the two-lane highway marked the passage of time, the only measurable indicator of travel. Then the slick road curved sharper than she expected. The back tires of her late model Toyota fishtailed. Deidre Wood held her breath until the car straightened out.

A hard kick jarred her abdomen.

Once she had the car under control, she released the wheel and stroked her swollen belly.

“We’re going to make it. He won’t…” Her words trailed off as a pair of twin beams illuminated the rearview mirror. She could make out the larger shape of a SUV before the lights shone in her eyes and blurred the sight.

Deidre willed herself to calm down. Another car traveling late on a snowy night didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. She had worked too hard to get away.

But the vehicle drew nearer and nearer until she couldn’t see the lights any longer. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Pass me. Pass me.” Sweat beaded her forehead despite the frigid temperature outside the car.

The SUV pulled into the next lane and Deidre released a pent up breath. Just before it cleared the front end of her car, the driver swerved and hit the left fender.
Deidre screamed and clinched the steering wheel.

Metal grated on metal.

One of the boulders on the roadside smashed the right fender and a loud pop followed. The car listed to the right, slowed by the damaged tire.

A pain shot through her abdomen. Tears ran down Deidre’s cheeks.

“Not now, dammit.”

Another impact from the passing vehicle pulled her thoughts from her son and she knew. He found her. But how?

Her headlights shone on a drop off a few feet in front of her. The next time the SUV rammed her, both vehicles skidded into the trench. Down, down they plummeted. They sped past boulders and trees, the world around a blur.

A slow motion reel of time played in Deidre’s mind. The future, not the past. She saw all the birthday parties her son would never have. The bike he would not learn to ride. The little league team he would never join. The shock of pain in her belly added further insult.

The rumble of the ground beneath echoed in her mind. The headlights illuminated the end. A wall of rock stretched the length of the crevasse and awaited her. She said a prayer, wished she could have lived one more day to see the birth of her son. With regret and sorrow, she closed her eyes to the inevitable.

Copyright © 2006 Denise Belinda McDonald