Blood

It took forever to get the damn engine started on the white car, and now that it is on the road, I can’t make it go fast enough. It doesn’t matter that the speedometer says 160, it’s still too slow.

Some part of me is telling me that the car is going too fast. It says that the roads are icy and I’m going to end up in an accident, I decide to ignore it.

The world flashes past my windows. I’m going too fast to really be able to process anything around me.

Too fast. Nowhere near fast enough.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. Or what kind of plan I have. I don’t think there’s any.

The seat next to me is filled with whatever I could think of, mostly weapons. There’s a knife, not unalike the one I always carry with me, a container of coarse salt, a jar of holy water, a crucifix for the hell of it and some other stuff. Oh, my shotgun, too.

I feel cold. Probably because it is quite cold and I spent quite a while lying in the snow, possibly because of a growing feeling of dread building inside me.

What if she’s dead?

Maybe we’ll leave you the girl, though. That’s what the Sro that looked just like me had said. Did he mean a corpse?

Stop, I tell myself.

Which is exactly what I do.

Well, after skidding off the corner and flipping the car twice.

And it hurts. And the shotgun goes off.

Glass shatters and the car groans.

Spirits, no.

I blink. There’s glass on me, and there’s blood.

I turn to the right, and see my container of salt has spilt everywhere and a lot of the rest of my things are nowhere in sight.

It hurts.

I turn to the door and try the handle, but it doesn’t budge. I throw my weight against it and still nothing happens.

Except it hurts.

Spirits, no. Lorna is going to be hurt because of me. Hell, she might be killed. Spirits, I’m so stupid. So, so stupid.

I kick at the remaining glass in the windshield to create a roughly me-shaped hole and crawl through. I can feel the glass pulling at me. I can smell my own blood, but I ignore it.

It hurts.

I lay on the quickly cooling hood for a moment and try to regain my breathing.

Headlights start to peel down the road, and I recognise my own truck barreling past.

“Son of a bitch,” I say, and try to stand. It takes a lot of effort.

Fucking hell, what am I supposed to do? Is Lorna with him? Is she already…Spirits.

Maybe we’ll leave you the girl, though.

So where do I go? What do I do? I’m about two-thirds of the way to Kappamor.

SpiritsspiritsfuckspiritsGod.

I look up over the trees and into the cold night and I realise with a sickening dread like none I’ve ever felt that the town is on fire.