Dixie
I was flying.
Sure, the car had left the road in a symphony of screaming metal and noisy mechanical parts pushed past their limits, but that wasn’t why I was weightless and free, floating above everything bad happening in the front seat of the twisting, turning, flipping sedan. I was flying because Church loved me and he was ready to let me love him. Even if a second was all we got to have of that love, it was enough. The light had pushed back the dark and he was standing in the sun after lurking in the shadows for far too long. It was the only thing I wanted and he had shown up to give it to me, in case it was the last thing I ever laid my eyes on. My last vision would be one of love and courage. It would be one of bravery and acceptance. It would be my dream coming true.
I heard glass breaking all around me as I let go of the steering wheel and covered my face with both my hands. Joseph was still screaming next to me, calling me names, telling me he was going to kill me, yelling that after I was dead he was going to make it his mission to kill everyone I loved, but then there was a sickening crunch as metal made contact with the ground as we rolled over and over again. Joseph quit saying anything and I felt something sharp rip through my clothing and skin at my shoulder. It was my turn to scream as something below the dash broke loose and trapped my foot between the weight of it and the gas pedal.
Joseph wanted me to keep going.
He knew there was nowhere to run, not with the entire Lowry police force stretched out in front of us. He told me it was all my fault. Over and over again he told me I should have given him a chance, that I shouldn’t have been leading men on if I was in love with someone else. I tried to stay calm and reason with him. I tried to tell him that wasn’t rational. He kept telling me to go faster, to keep my foot on the gas. He jammed the gun into the side of my head so hard I saw stars and I panicked, thinking that he was going to pull the trigger by accident. There was no way in hell I was going to let him murder me in front of Church. I wasn’t going to be another slash across Church’s barely stitched-together heart. I refused to let him blame himself for the misfortune befalling yet another woman he cared about. It wasn’t his fault. None of it had been and now that he could see that, I wouldn’t let him drift back into the darkness.
I told Church I loved him. I said it out loud over and over again. I repeated it what felt like a thousand times, each word making Joseph angrier and angrier. His rage didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I got to say what needed to be said.
I saw Church run towards me. I could clearly see the fear and worry on his face. I told him I loved him and prayed that he could hear me. I watched with my heart in my eyes and determination coursing through every part of my body as he told me he loved me back. I didn’t need him to give that to me, but I was overjoyed that he had. It made what I had to do next far easier than it would have been otherwise. Love was stronger than fear and I felt that strength fill me up as I cranked the wheel of the speeding vehicle as far to the right as it would go. There was no hope for the sedan. It left the road and started to summersault instantly, the farm fence meant to keep in livestock and trespassers out was no match for the tumbling vehicle.
My head was spinning. I could taste blood and dirt all across my tongue. There wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt and I couldn’t get my eyes to focus. Every breath I took burned and it felt like there wasn’t enough air. The world was upside down and sideways but I figured I must still be alive if I could feel all the things that were wrong with me. I tried to turn my head to see if Joseph was still in the seat next to me, or more accurately to see if there was still a weapon that could be pointed at me, but I screamed as white-hot pain scorched down the side of my neck when I tried to move.
“Dixie!” I heard my name, but it didn’t sound like it normally did. Church was screaming it and it sounded like both a prayer and a curse. None of that smooth drawl was present. All I could hear was a frantic man worried about the woman he loved. He sounded tortured and stripped bare. It was his soul screaming out in search of mine, but I couldn’t answer. I tried to, but I couldn’t make my muscles work. I couldn’t get my tongue unstuck from the roof of my mouth and I couldn’t speak around the tang of blood at the back of my throat. Luckily I didn’t need to because within seconds that familiar face with those remarkable eyes, twice their normal size and flooded with fear, were hovering in front of me. He was upside down, but I could make out the lines of worry and concern on his face as he reached into the mangled side of the car and put his fingers on the side of my neck.
I had a pulse. I must have. I could hear my heart pounding between my ears and every thump of it made my chest ache with pain. I tried to blink heavy lashes so I could give him some indication that I was okay, but even that feat proved to be too challenging. I couldn’t make anything cooperate.
“She’s got a pulse, but it’s thready. She’s bleeding all over the damn place and there’s a piece of the goddamn fence sticking out of her shoulder.”
“Don’t move her until EMS gets here. They’re two minutes out.” I heard Jules like he was speaking through heavy fabric. I could see his legs somewhere beyond where Church was kneeling and holding on to my face with his hands.
“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He did have me, and now it seemed like he wanted to keep me. “Where’s Erikson? He isn’t next to her. He must have been thrown clear when they rolled.”
Joseph hadn’t had a seat belt on. That and one too many Jason Statham movies had given me the idea to drive the car off the road. I figured if either of us was going to survive I was the one with a better shot since I’d buckled up. It sounded like my instinct had proven to be correct. Not that surviving felt all that awesome at the moment.
“Hurts.” The word wheezed out as I lifted the hand that wasn’t pinned to the crushed seat behind me towards my shoulder.
Church caught the unnaturally pale and weak appendage in his own hand and gently pulled it away from the razor-sharp glass that was imbedded in my flesh. “I know it does but you can’t touch it.” He curled his fingers around mine and gave them a little squeeze. “You stole about a hundred years off my life, you know that?” He shook his head and leaned forward so that he could touch his lips to mine. It was upside down and too brief but I swore the touch of his lips against mine stole away some of the pain that was making it hard to think. “I already lost ten years, I don’t want to lose any more.”
That was good, but I was having a really difficult time keeping my eyes open. I was seeing three of him and all of those versions were fuzzy around the edges.
I heard voices, all talking fast and loud. I heard Church grumbling when I tried to protest when his face was replaced by one I didn’t recognize. But I was too tired to argue and the pain was getting to be too much to fight. I could feel oblivion trying to suck me under and its embrace was warm and welcoming.
“Her foot is caught under the dash. It’s probably got some significant damage. We need a machine in here to cut her loose.”
I heard Church order them to be careful with me. But one of the paramedics jostled my side as he tried to make room for himself next to me so that he could get to my captured foot. It wasn’t a big bump but it was enough to make me scream like I’d never screamed before. I felt like lightning was ripping through every limb. I saw stars but they were blinking rapidly in a field of black and that darkness was calling to me, promising me relief from the searing agony that was pulling my body apart. I heard other voices yell. I heard a loud pop and smelled gunpowder as well as the blood and gasoline that I was choking on … then everything went black and I finally stopped hurting.