Betwixt, Before, Beyond (24 page)

Chapter Twelve

My ears are ringing. My brain feels like sludge.

Hugh is screaming. I try to turn and see him, but my face is caught on something. Fear is making me breathe like a bull. My eyes jump around the dark car, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

I smell blood.

The windscreen is smashed. Luis' legs are dangling over the dashboard, the rest of his mangled body lying across the hood of the car. He's dead. Oh God, he's dead!

Jack is slumped against the steering wheel. I can't tell if he's alive or not, but the small part of his head I can see is covered with blood.

Hugh is still screaming.
Something about his leg. I can't make out what he's saying. His words are marred by his excruciating cries. I want to tell him to shut the hell up, but I can't talk.

Something's in my face.
I reach up to investigate, but can't move my arm. My shoulder hurts. No, it more than hurts, it's freaking killing me. I want to black out, so I don't have to feel it anymore.

Using my good hand, I reach across my body and gingerly investigate whatever the hell is trying to rip my head off, but I can't reach properly. It smells like wood. I don't know how I even pick that up. The reek of beer and blood is overpowering most other things, but whatever is tearing my cheek apart smells like wood.

I don't know where we are. I can't see anything in the damn dark, and Hugh is still screaming!

And now Travis is moaning.

"Shut up," I slur. My voice is husky and foreign.

I close my eyes and will oblivion. I can't handle the screaming. I can't do this. I need relief. I need this to end now!

*****

It doesn't end. Hugh keeps screaming until I think my brain will explode. The pain in my shoulder continues to kill me, one nerve at a time. I don't know how long we've been stuck here, but reality is sinking in. I feel like I've been thrown into a thick bog
, and my mind is being pulled towards the one word I don't want to hear. It's heavy. It hurts and I soon cannot ignore it.

Death.

This car stinks of death.

Travis has stopped moaning now. As much as I hated the sound before, I now miss it. At least it was something. His silence is unnerving. Hugh has stopped screaming too. He's just whimpering now, but I can hear how weak his pathetic cries are growing. It's like
the energy is being drained from him by a giant needle.

*****

Everything is quiet.

My foggy brain has drifted into blackness a couple of times
, but it never lasts long. The pain in my shoulder is getting worse. It's like something is winding my muscles tighter, and the tighter it gets the more excruciating the pain becomes. I want to cry out and scream like Hugh did, but the branch - at least I think that's what it is - in my face is stopping me from doing anything.

"Hugh," I barely whisper.

Nothing.

"Hugh? Are you awake, man?"

The silence that answers me is final. Hugh's dead. I can only see him out of the corner of my eye, but he's so still. Hugh's dead.

Everyone's dead!

And I'm next.

My soul wrenches as I finally face the reality head on. I'm going to die. We've been out here for hours. No one will be able to find this car
, and I am going to die, squished into the back of a stolen vehicle with four guys who I guess were my friends. I mean, I hung out with them, but did I really know them? We never talked about anything deep and meaningful. We just hung out.

I want my family.

The thought shoots through my brain unbidden, but I guess when you're facing death, everything that's close to your heart surfaces.

I think of Rachel and Julz and little Emma
and Tim. I'm never going to see them grow up. I can't be cool Unky Dee. I won't be able to go to Emma's dance recitals or teach Tim to catch a ball.

Tears flood my eyes.

Mom. That look she gave me this afternoon. That pure disappointment, that heart-breaking confusion. She so wants me to be good. She loves me. I've never doubted that.

And then Dad.
The way he explained it all. It was good. I mean it sucked. I hate the rules, but he put them there to protect me...from this. From this situation right here. If I'd just done as I was damn well told, I'd be lying on my bed sleeping right now!

I hate myself.

I've been so pissed at the world - who I was becoming, who I was supposed to be! I didn't like either option, but now I'm left with none.

I'm going to die...and I don't want to.

In spite of my sucky future, I still want to live. I want a chance to make all of this right! If I can just prove to Mom and Dad what I'm capable of, then eventually they'll loosen the reins, right?

I want that chance!

"I need that chance," I slur.

I don't know if I'm specifically talking to anyone, but the moment the words leave my mouth the deathly stillness around me swirls with something...something I haven't felt before.

I hold my breath, knowing it can't be real. There's no way.

In spite of my doubts, I swallow and whisper, "God?"

Was he here with me or something? My parents always swore that no matter what I did, he was always watching. They used to use it as a threat almost, but Dad told me yesterday that God loves me, and he sounded pretty convinced about the whole thing.

I think back to my years of sitting in Sunday school. I used to like it as a kid.
All those bible stories. They were cool...and the songs we used to sing were pretty cool too.

He's Got The Whole World In His Hands
begins to play in my brain. I used to like that one. I accept the tune, letting it sing through my brain the whole way through. I close my eyes and listen to the words again. My teacher would always go around the circle, and we'd take turns putting our own name in. I can hear everyone singing, "He's got Dale Finnigan in His hands."

"You've got me," I whisper. "You've got me in your hands, don't you? You've been there all along."

Shame fills me. Man, I've been such a little shit.

"I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to be in your hands."

The feeling is so overwhelming I know it must be true. And it's not even the fact I've had loveless sex or actually stolen cars. What's getting to me most is my callous attitude. The total lack of respect I've shown to all the people around me. That's what I hate most about my behavior.

I've turned into an arrogant punk.

I've become like the very people I grew up despising.

"I want to make it right," I mumble. "But now it's too late." Tears have been streaming down my face for a while now, but I only just register them.

Blinking rapidly, I swallow the boulder in my throat and start to wonder if I should be willing death upon me. Will it end quicker if I do that?

I lick my lips, grip my left hand into a fist and urge death to come...but I can't do it. Every time I think about dying, my insides rebel.

I don't want to die!

I don't want my parents to have to deal with losing their only son. I don't want to leave this earth with my current reputation.

"God, I don't want to die," I whimper. "You can hear me, right? I'm not ready to go." I tap my fist against me knee. "Can you save me? Would you do it?" My voice is growing weak, but I surge on, needing to say all this stuff aloud. "For my parents. For me? I just want another chance, that's all. Please. Please, God, save me."

I close my eyes as a cold blackness creeps over me.

"Save me," I whisper.

My brain is growing heavy, the pain in my shoulder making it impossible to think straight.

"Save me."

Chapter Thirteen

Present day...

I let go of the curtain and return to my desk. Gazing at my screen, I swivel in my seat as I recall the night of the accident and how God did save me. He took his sweet time about it. Man, that was the longest night of my life. I don't even remember how we were found. Lights punctured the blackness, and urgent voices assaulted me.

"I think that one in the back is alive. I can see his eyes fluttering. Look!"

I squinted into that flashlight beam like my life depended on it, which I guess it kinda did.

Sirens. Yeah, I remember those.

Then pain again. Lots and lots of pain.

I scratch my shoulder, running my finger
over the neat scar left by the surgeon. My shoulder was dislocated pretty badly, and major repairs were needed. My fingers then go to my face, the way they always do when I relive the accident. It was a branch through my cheek. It had smashed through the window and straight into my face, ripping my cheek apart. The scar left behind would be a hideous reminder of what I'd survived.

Some days I hate it, which is why I've grown my hair long. At least
, my reckless curls hide it a little. Some days I tie my hair back though and stare into the mirror, studying the jagged line. It's a good reminder, I guess. I was the only one to survive that crash...and I will forever believe that my survival was God's doing.

It's like a sword through the soul when I think about it. I can still see Luis' limp body smashed through the windscreen
, and I will never ever get the sound of Hugh's screaming out of my head. Those guys weren't good for me. I guess I knew it at the time, but they didn't deserve to die and I still miss them sometimes.

I don't know what became of the rest of the people I used to see. My parents kind of put me
into hiding after the accident and none of my old friends tried to contact me. We moved from L.A. to Big Bear as soon as my rehab would allow me to. And even though it's only two-hours away, I don't really have any desire to drive down and see them. I do sometimes wonder about Mason and Carly...what's become of them? I feel dizzy when I entertain the thought that Carly may have gotten pregnant. All I can pray is that she didn't. What a nightmare.

And then there's Jasmine.

I don't think I'll ever be able to forget those people. As much as I sometimes I want to.

The weeks of rehab that followed made me wonder if God simply kept me breathing so he could punish me. And then there was the court case. The accident didn't get me out of that. Unfortunately
, I was well enough to attend, and because I'd been found for the second time in a stolen vehicle, the judge was pretty pissed about it. I guess my injuries got me off with a warning, but the two misdemeanors were now permanently on record. I have a record. I hate that. If I ever slip up again I'll be facing a much harsher punishment. I don't even want to know what it might be.

Being saved came with a high price...but that's what I'd asked for and all I could hope is that one day
, I'd figure out the reason why. I've been trying to live a good life ever since, inspired by the fact I lived. I feel like I owe it to everyone who loves me to do a better job. I guess I really owe it to myself. Only a fool would slap a second chance in the face.

But
, I sometimes wonder if there's more to my salvation...like maybe God kept me alive for a specific reason.

I glance at the window and think about that stunning beauty with the lost expression in her eyes. I will never forget that feeling of desperation. It's like wandering in a desert without a compass. All you see is endless days of the same thing
, and you have no idea how you're ever going to get out of it.

Man, I want to help her. I want to show her there's another way.

Picking up my pencil, I tap it over my text books. I know I should be studying. Mom's homeschool routine leaves little room for movement. Some days it's suffocation city, but I put up with it. If I don't stay on top of my studies, I'll never get into a decent college. I want options. I want my future to be filled with positive options.

I start drawing swirls on the bottom corner of my notepad. The swirl turns into an N and before I know it, I've written the name Nicole. I scribble it out with a huff. Who the hell am I kidding? Like she would ever give a guy like me a second look.

I pause.

But
, it's not about that.

I mean sure, she is gorgeous and the idea of being with someone like her would be awesome, but that's not the only reason I can't get her out of my brain.

It's that look in her eyes. I want to take it away.

"And how the hell are you going to do that, Dale?" I scoff. "You spend most of your life locked in this house, you loser."

Dropping the pencil, I flick it with my fingers and watch it roll to the edge of the pad and tumble off the end. It finally comes to a stop against a pile of fantasy novels I'm working my way through. I'm tempted to grab one and bury myself in a good story. The perfect escape from reality, but then Nicole scuttles through my brain again.

God gave me a second chance at life. I promised myself I wouldn't waste it and hiding in my room reading was hardly living life to the fullest.

I should be dead, but I'm not.

God kept me breathing for a reason
, and I can't help wondering if Nicole is it.

Reaching for the pencil, I write her name in bold letters across the notepad.

"How's it coming, sweetie?" Mom's voice makes me jump a mile. She chuckles as she walks through the door, Jester, my black Labrador, at her heels. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I flip my pad over and
drop my pencil.

Mom reaches me, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a rub. "You have that thoughtful
look on your face. What's up?"

I distract myself with Jester for a moment. He's muscled his way past Mom and is resting his head on my knee expecting some attention. His black tail thumps happily on the ground as I scratch behind his ear. Mom doesn't usually let him up here during study time and I know he'll be dragged out when she leaves. I rub his sleek coat with a smile
. His tongue lolls to the side as he drops to his back, exposing his belly for me to scratch. I oblige with a grin then pat his stomach before sitting up straight.

I clear my throat and
pull my T-shirt straight. "Mom." I lick my lips. "I think it's time for me to head back to school."

Her eyebrows jump high. "What's brought this on?"

I shrug and pick at the growing hole on the knee of my jeans. "I don't know. I just feel like it's time to stop hiding."

Mom's silence makes me glance up.

She looks nervous, nibbling the edge of her bottom lip. "I thought we agreed that you'd stay home until college."

"I've got to face the world at some point. I think I'd rather do it when I have you guys around to support me." I know that's not my primary reason for making this decision, but it's still a good one.

Mom doesn't look appeased. "We should talk to your dad first."

I lean forward and rub her tense forearm. "Of course we will, but you guys can't sway me. I've made up my mind."

She knows that's true and has a hard time hiding her disappointment.

"It's okay, Mom. I can handle this."

"But..." she sighs. "Dale, what if..."

"I promised you and Dad I'd never go down that path again
, and I won't. You can trust me now."

She nods, obviously fighting off tears.

I swallow, trying to think of something to make her feel better.

With a wry chuckle, I shake my head. "You really don't have to worry. I doubt anyone's gonna want
to hang with the scar faced freak anyway."

Her frown is sharp. "Don't you say that about my son
! He's gorgeous."

"To you maybe," I mumble, suddenly wondering if my decision to throw myself into a high school environment is the right one. They'll have a field day with me. Was I strong enough to take it? Nicole pops into my brain
, and I know I have no choice. "I've gotta do this, Mom. Please help me."

I glance up to see her eyes have swamped with tears. She leans towards me with a shaky smile, her hand resting over the scar on my cheek. "You're a brave soul, Dale Finnigan
, and you are becoming the most amazing man. I'm so proud of you."

I grin. "Thanks, Mom."

She kisses me on the forehead. "I'll call the office at Big Bear High to ask for details, but no final decisions will be made until
after
we talk to Dad," she says between sniffs.

I have to nod
, she deserves at least that.

"Come on, Jester." She clicks her fingers. "You can see Dale at lunchtime."

My dog whimpers, reluctant to leave.

"Jester." Mom's voice is stern. He knows that tone and I can almost hear him sighing as he gets to his feet and pads out of the room.

I watch them leave, feeling a mixture of elation and fear. My life is about to get really hard.

Swiveling around in my chair, I flip my notepad back over and gaze at Nicole's name. Yeah, it was going to freaking suck...but it'd be worth it.

I run my pencil over the N. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to do everything in my power to save this girl.

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