Can You See Me?

by Nikki Vale

  Twenty minutes later my high beams land on a yellow house. As I pull up closer I see a mailbox at the side of the road, 1252. Oh, thank goodness. I release a sigh of relief. I pull up the long driveway as close to the front door of the house as I can get. As I reach the end of the driveway a middle-aged gentleman with graying brown hair steps out of the front door. I put the truck in park and hop out.

  “Is my boy drunk again?” the man greets me, obviously agitated. He sighs running his hand over his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s no fault of yours. I appreciate you bringing him home safely.”

  “I’m sorry, Mister?” I pause in askance.

  “Miller. James Miller,” he replies holding out his hand. I take his proffered hand, shaking it.

  “I’m Skye Williams. My sister, Dawn had her twenty-first birthday party tonight and they had a few too many drinks. Jason, the owner of Acorn Groves Bar & Grill suggested I take Darren home and he gave me the directions,” I explain to Mr. Miller.

  “Jason Greene always has been a stand-up guy,” he comments, more to himself than to me. “So you’re the new Williams sister the towns been buzzing about? About broke Hailey Weaver’s nose against the bar the other night, if the rumors are true,” he remarks.

  “It’s not what is sound like,” I start to explain.

  “Oh, I’m sure she had it coming. She’s not used to having viable competition and you’re just a pretty as they said you were,” he compliments making me blush with embarrassment.

  Mr. Miller walks over to the passenger side of the truck and snatches the door open. Darren comes tumbling out into the snow covered ground. James Miller shows no sympathy and bends over grabbing Darren by the ear. “Get up boy. What did I tell you about coming home pissy drunk? As long as you live under my roof you will conduct yourself accordingly,” he says to his son who has become a little soberer as he’s dragged into the house by his ear. I hop back into the truck out of the blistering cold. I’m ready to head back to town and drop Dawn off at home with Mom and Grandma Rose.

  “Skye, where are we?” Dawn asks groggily, eyes half open.

  “In the middle of B.F.E. dropping off your friend Darren,” I reply. She giggles.

  “Yeah, he does live in the middle of nowhere,” is her response, as she drops her head back on my shoulder. “I’m sorry Skye. You know I love you, right?” she says, slurring her words.

  “Yeah, sweetie. I know,” I tell her and kiss her on the top of her honey blond head.

  I’m still pretty far outside of town when I see a pair of headlights behind me quickly gaining ground. What is this person’s rush? I hope it’s not a drunk driver. I slow down preparing to let the speeding SUV pass me by. I jerk forward violently against the seat belt and Dawns face slams against my shoulder as the SUV slams into the back of us. My hands grip the wheel in a panic as I check my rear view mirror. What the hell? I no longer see the black vehicle behind me, but I see its high beams in my driver’s side view mirror blinding me. I honk my horn, in case, against all odds, the driver hit me by accident because they couldn’t see me. The SUV swerves suddenly to the right sideswiping me. Oh, they see me alright. They’re trying to run me off the road.

  Dawn has quickly sobered up and is crying hysterically holding her hand over her busted lip. I look ahead and see one of the smaller bridges we crossed on our way out here. It crosses over a wide but shallow stream.

  Think Skye think. You’ve been trained in defensive driving tactics. What do you do? I pound my hand against my head until it comes to me. I tap repeatedly on the breaks just as the SUV goes to ram us again, but Dawn sees’s their intent and grabs the steering wheel pulling it to the right, causing us to run up the side of the railing on the bridge.

  My heart is pounding out of my chest. Dawn is screaming and crying hysterically. The truck is now perched on the edge of the bridge’s railing and I know that one wrong move and we’re going to topple over the side.

  The SUV is stopped behind us with its high beams still on, revving its engine. In my gut, I know what’s going to happen next. I pull Dawn to me wrapping my arm around her neck. “I Love you,” I whisper against her hair. I curl my bicep, slowly applying pressure to her throat until she goes limp. I gently close my eyes in surrender, as the vehicle behind us revs its engine one last time and peels out ramming into us. The hit knocks the truck from its precarious perch and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach as we tumble over the side and free-fall down into the stream below.

  Somehow the truck flips as it falls and makes an impact on my side crushing the door in on me. Then the truck it wobbles and falls onto it’s back caving the roof in on us. I know I’ve got broken bones and I probably have a few open wounds as I dangle upside down in the truck from my seatbelt. I’m in and out of consciousness when I think hear a voice calling to me.

  “Skye. Don’t worry darling everything’s going to be okay. I’ve called for help,” I hear a familiar voice reassuring me. I know that voice from somewhere. I can’t open my eyes because they’re swollen shut.

  “Dawn?” I rasp from my bloodied and chapped lips. All of the windows are busted and the cold is seeping into my bones. I’m starting to feel numb all over, which is almost a blessed relief to the excruciating pain throughout my body. I’m having a hard time concentrating, my mind is getting foggy.

  “Dawn’s okay,” I hear a feminine voice say from far away before I let go and fade into the darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  Cooper

  It’s two o’clock in the morning when I wake up to my cell phone incessantly ringing. What the hell? I sit up instantly alert when I realize it’s my work phone.

  “Sherriff Talbott,” I answer.

  “Sir, this is Charlene Simpson one of your night dispatchers down at the station. We received an anonymous call about an hour ago about a late model, red Ford pickup truck that had been run off the road on rural Route 13,” fear clenches in my chest and I hold my breath as I wait for the bad news. “Ambulances and patrols have already responded. The truck had been run off the bridge crossing the stream by old man Johnson’s farm. The vehicle had been flipped upside down and the fire department had to respond to use the Jaws of Life in order to remove the individuals from the crumpled vehicle. The occupants were identified as Skye and Dawn Williams. They were immediately transported to the hospital. One is stable while the other is in critical condition. I heard that Skye Williams was hired as a new dispatcher here, so I thought you might want to know as soon as possible,” Charlene sadly informs me.

  “Which one?” I ask her hesitantly.

  “Which one what, Sir?” Charlene asks confused.

  “Which one of the women is in critical condition Charlene?” I ask through clenched teeth.

  “I’m sorry Sir, I don’t know that information at this moment, but I can get it for you,” she responds sounding worried.

  “No, it’s fine. Thanks for letting me know,” I reply and hang up. I don’t know why I asked. It doesn’t matter. I was going to the hospital either way.

  I rush to brush my teeth. I throw on some jeans, a blue and black flannel shirt, my favorite baseball cap and a winter coat. I jump in my blue extended-cab truck and head to the hospital.

  I’m sure I’m breaking a few laws getting here, but I need to know if she’s okay. I walk up to the check-in desk of the emergency room. I wave to get the attention of the young brunette nurse who’s busy gossiping with another nurse. When she sees me she immediately straightens up and walks over to assist me.

  “Sherriff Talbott. How can I help you?” she asks pleasantly. Sometimes it’s good to be the Sherriff.

  “I’m here to see Skye and Dawn Williams,” I inform her.

  “I believe Skye Williams is in emergency surgery, but I’ll have Nurse Parker take you back to see Ms. Dawn Williams right away,” she says, waving the other nurse over to escort me to the back. A knot has settled in my chest. Skye is in emergency surgery. I say a short prayer, as I follow behind th
e nurse taking me up the elevator to the intensive care unit. God, please let Skye be okay. Please don’t bring her into my life just to snatch her away so quickly.

  “Here we are Sherriff. She’s in the third room to your left,” the nurse informs me, holding the elevator doors open. I step out and head in that direction, the nurse releases the doors and returns to whence she came.

  I knock softly on Dawn’s door. “Come in,” she replies in a raspy voice. I step inside and see her lying back in the hospital bed. Her bottom lip is busted, she has two black eyes, a bandage around her head and her right arm is in a sling. She sees me and instantly tries to smooth her matted honey blonde hair with her good arm. She looks like a sad little girl with her big brown eyes full of tears.

  “Is Skye going to be okay?” she asks letting the tears fall. I sit down gingerly on the side of the bed next to her.

  “I don’t know. I just got here. I haven’t heard anything yet,” I inform her, placing my hand gently on the hand in the sling in an effort to comfort her.

  “Are you feeling well enough to tell me what happened?” I gently probe her. She nods her head.

  “I was pretty drunk in the beginning so all I remember is waking up in the truck asking Skye where we were. She said we had just dropped Darren off in Bumfuck Egypt,” she giggles softly. “Of course Skye said B.F.E instead. She’s driving along 13 and she suddenly starts to slow the truck down because an SUV comes speeding up behind us out of nowhere. I think she was trying to give it room to pass. Instead, it slammed into the back of us,” she says, voice rising. “Skye starts honking the horn and looking around for the SUV. It pulls up to the left of us but not far enough up to see the driver. Skye starts tapping the breaks,” Dawn says, rubbing her temples as if she feels a migraine coming on. I hate to push her but it’s best to get information while it’s fresh in her mind. I nod my head silently urging her to continue.

  “Skye’s tapping on the breaks. I don’t know why she keeps tapping the brakes. The SUV is swerving dramatically towards us trying to ram us again, so I grab the steering wheel and jerk it to the right,” she explains, moving her arms like she’s pulling an imaginary steering wheel.

  Damn it! Dawn made things worse by grabbing the wheel. Skye was tapping on the breaks to slow down and keep the truck from hydroplaning. She was trying to get the SUV to swerve in front of them possibly causing the SUV to lose control and crash into the shoulder. The old truck might have crashed into the rear side of the SUV but Dawn and Skye would have been okay.

  “What happened next?” I gently inquire.

  “When I grabbed the wheel the truck swerved and ran up over the railing of the bridge. The truck was balancing on top of the railing halfway over the side. I was crying and screaming,” Dawns starts crying and hyperventilating. Her monitors start beeping. “The SUV was just sitting there revving its engine behind us. I kept screaming and screaming. But Skye, she didn’t cry, she wrapped her arm around my neck and told me she loved me. That’s all I remember,” she finishes, trembling with hiccupping sobs.

  A nurse rushes into the room. “Is everything alright?” she asks concerned, checking the monitors. “She’s in pain and highly agitated,” the nurse states, sticking a needle into Dawn’s I.V. and inserting some medication. “I just gave her some pain medication so she might start to doze on you,” the nurse informs me. Dawn immediately calms down. She settles back into her pillows and closes her eyes.

  “Sherriff Talbott, right?” the petite, Hispanic nurse asks me. I look at her shoulder, her name tag says Mendoza. “Dawn’s a lucky girl. I don’t know how she survived that crash with as little injury as she did,” she remarks.

  “I do,” I quietly reply. The nurse looks at me expectantly. I move from the side of Dawn’s bed and sit down in one of the chairs next to it. Sighing, I bend over and clasp my hands together looking at them.

  “Dawn just told me that when the SUV started revving its engine her sister put her arm around her neck and hugged her and told her she loved her. I’m assuming that the SUV was revving its engine because it was about to finish the job of running them off the road and the driver wanted them to know it. They wanted to terrify them. I think Skye knew it too. She wasn’t hugging Dawn, she was putting her in a sleeper hold,” I finish on an expelled breath.

  “Why would she do that?” Dawn suddenly chimes in, her voice sleepy. The nurse answers before I can, with admiration in her voice.

  “Because, Mija. If your body is relaxed you have a better chance of surviving. Like a drunk driver. You ever notice how a drunk driver almost always survives the crash but the victim’s die a lot of the time? It’s because when you know something’s about to happen you tense up and it can cause your body more damage. Drunken people have delayed reactions so they tend not to be tense when the accident happens. Same would apply to you if you were asleep. Which you were,” Nurse Mendoza says, with a small smile.

  “She saved my life,” Dawn says emotionally. Nurse Mendoza quietly leaves the room. Dawn becomes silently morose as the tears continuously roll down her cheeks until at last she falls asleep.

  I decide to see if the nurses can give me an update on Skye since Dawn is now sleeping. I approach the nurses’ station and Nurse Mendoza addresses me.

  “Sherriff Talbott, good. Doctor Schultz is here, he wants to update you on Skye William’s status. Her mother and grandmother are on their way up so he’ll do it when you’re all together, that way he doesn’t have to repeat it. I’m sure you understand,” she says. I just nod my head.

  Dawn and Skye’s Grandmother, Rose Thompson, and their mother, Jennifer Williams step off the elevator. “Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Williams, I’m sorry to have to see you again under such terrible circumstances,” I greet them apologetically, taking each of their hands one at a time. The doctor walks up to us as I greet them.

  “Excuse me ladies, Sherriff Talbott. I’m Dr. Schultz. I’ve just come out of surgery with Skye and she’s stable,” he advises us and we all sigh in relief. “She has a few broken ribs, one of which punctured her lung, making it necessary for us to perform emergency surgery. She has a broken leg, two black eyes, and other minor cuts and bruises. She’s on oxygen to help her breathe and in an effort to help her heal at an optimal level she’s been placed in a medically induced coma. She needs some time for her lung to heal. We don’t need her moving around with cracked ribs and puncturing it again,” Dr. Schultz finishes his analysis of the situation.

  “When can we see her?” her mother, Jenifer, asks.

  “She’s out of surgery and in a recovery room. If it’s alright with you Mrs. Williams we’ll place her here in the room with Dawn,” the doctor kindly offers. Jennifer nods her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to be a parent and get the kind of phone call in the middle of the night telling you that your child has been in an accident. In her case, it’s not only one child but two.

  “Where’s Summer?” I inquire, noting her absence.

  Grandma Rose rolls her eyes at me. “Apparently the girl got sauced last night. We called her cell phone a bunch of times only to get her voicemail. Jennifer finally called the owner of the bar, Jason Greene, and he informed us that Summer was passed out drunk. Jennifer left a message on her voicemail and one with Jason in case she doesn’t check her messages when she wakes up.”

  “Do you know which room Dawn is in?” Jennifer asks me.

  “She’s down the hall third room to the left. She was sleeping when I left a few minutes ago,” I inform her. They both turn and head towards Dawn’s room. I stand there unsure of what to do with myself. I don’t want to encroach on their family time. Rose looks back at me.

  “Well, are you coming? I know you’re anxious to see how Skye is,” she remarks candidly. What is it with the elderly saying whatever is on their minds? I just smile, shake my head, put my hands in my pockets and follow behind her.

  Dawn is still sleeping. Her mother, Jennifer, is softly running he
r hands over Dawn’s hair. She looks at me and for the first time, I notice her gray eyes, so similar to Skye’s. “How did this happen? Who would do this to my babies?” she demands with anguish in her voice.

  “I don’t know, but I aim to find out,” I reassure her. I don’t know who the perpetrator’s target was, Skye or Dawn, but my guess would be Skye. Dawn’s been here several years without any attacks against her. Less than a week after arriving, someone tries to kill Skye. Hailey Weaver’s will be the first door I go knocking on.

  There’s a small commotion down the hallway and I peek out to see nurses rolling Skye’s bed towards the room. My stomach knots in trepidation. Dr. Schultz said she was stable but I’m still plagued with irrational fear. How can I already feel so strongly about her? I barely even know her.

  They wheel Skye into the room and place her bed in the open area next to the window, hooking up the all the equipment monitoring her vitals. My eyes rake over her face. Like Dawn she has two black eyes but hers are so swollen that if she weren’t unconscious I doubt she’d be able to open them. She has bandages over her nose. My guess would be that she broke it on the steering wheel of the truck. Both of her lips are split, and I can only imagine what the rest of her body must look like.

  Jennifer is sobbing uncontrollably while Rose remains stoic. Rose rubs her daughter’s back consoling her. “They took a beating Jenny, but they’re alive. By the looks of it, they shouldn’t be. But our girls are strong. They’ll overcome this, but you have to be strong for them now while they’re healing, so hush your crying now,” she soothes her, yet at the same time admonishing her. It does the trick because her sobs turn into quiet hiccups that soon fade altogether.