The Passenger by Jacqueline Druga (ebook reader ink .TXT) 📕

more winding than when Jonas first had driven to the bar. It was dark, now he was nervous. His hand gripped and released the wheel, sweat formed on his forehead and the car felt like it was floating. Everything was floating.

Two miles.

Two miles until the next road, Jonas told himself.

He knew he was driving slowly; he would have driven that way even if he felt fine.

It was as if he held his breath the whole ride on the snake-like road, even pausing for a second before turning on to the road that would lead to the highway.

“Are you alright?” David asked.

“Um … yeah. Just still mad about tonight.”

“And you’re still mad about the fight?”

“Just everything. It was a good night, we sounded great. I’m in the band.”

“I saw the guitar.”

Jonas nodded. “Yeah, we uh, were uh …” He stammered his words, slowed down to a crawl until he saw the exit for the highway.

“You were what?”

Think, Jonas, think. Keep talking to this guy. The hotel isn’t that far. Almost there.

“We were playing great. The crowd loved us, and this guy just brought it all down.”

“How?”

“By fighting with me. Picking a fight. Getting me mad.”

“So, he picked a fight with you, you got mad, it escalated into a physical fight, and it was him who ruined the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Don't you think you could have turned the other cheek?” David suggested.

“I did and he punched it.”

David chuckled. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it went.”

“Were you there?”

“I’ve been there. I’m in this car because of it. Look,” David said “Our actions and reactions cause outcomes. They may not be the outcomes we may have wanted or imagined. Denying it isn’t the answer. Admitting the truth is the first step to righting a wrong and to setting you on a new path.”

Jonas blinked hard, his eyes felt heavy and David’s words suddenly had an echo.

“Are you all right?”

Jonas shook his head. “I’m not drunk, I swear, I didn’t drink enough. I feel like it though.”

“Why don’t you pull over and let me take the wheel?”

“I think I—”

“Jonas! Deer!”

Crash.

The animal was a blur as it slammed onto the hood of the car then into the driver’s side of the windshield. Even in his best state, Jonas wouldn’t have had time to react. Then again, had he been in a good state, he would have seen that deer.

The instinct to hit the brakes came too late, Jonas pushed his foot down to the peddle and jerked the wheel.

The car slammed into something else. It was a hard hit, jolting his head against the driver’s window.

He didn’t know what it was he hit nor was there time to think about it. It was violent, sending the car into a three-sixty tailspin before slamming again and flipping the car.

That was when it seemed to happen in slow motion.

Jonas had zero control as the car rolled. He felt the shattered glass hit against his face like a hard rain, and visions of his parents flashed before his eyes as the car stopped rolling and turned upside down, it then sailed airborne over the embankment.

A calm feeling overcame him, his body went limp and he thought, ‘This is it. Nothing I can do.’

There was no bracing for impact, he didn’t know when that would occur. It didn’t matter anyhow. Thoughts of his family suddenly were blurry, then gone as the car crashed down hard, roof first.

For a single split second, Jonas felt it and then … blackness.

FOUR

It sounded like someone dropped something, a loud bang, that jolted Grant awake after he finally started drifting into sleep. He knew there wasn’t a sound, he didn’t hear anything. Grant was well aware of the sensation. It was a hypnagogic sound. Usually, he had them when he was stressed and decided to read something intense. It didn’t happen often, typically it was a voice or music. He learned the term when he first started teaching history at the community college. Thankfully, the older he got, the less it happened. He should have expected it on this night.

Cate stressing made him feel stress; he just didn’t show it.

The tea worked on her. Although it didn’t ease her mind. Grant could tell by the way she slept. On her side, one hand rolled to a fist just under her cheek, the other clutching the covers as if she expected to wake and fling them off at any moment.

His eBook reader had slid down from his chest. He was glad he didn’t fling it across the room when he sat up. Grant preferred the feel of a book in his hands, but being in his late fifties, even glasses at night didn’t make those tiny words any bigger or brighter.

After placing his reader on the nightstand, Grant slowly got out of bed so as not to wake Cate. He slid into his slippers and made his way across the bedroom. He was thirsty and he could get a drink of water from the bathroom, but Grant wanted juice.

In the dark kitchen he grabbed a glass and opened the fridge. He poured some into the glass, drank it quickly, then poured some more. That was when he saw Cate’s phone on the counter connected to the charger.

Bringing the glass to his lips, he reached down and touched the screen.

No new messages.

Jonas hadn’t replied.

A lump formed in his stomach; one he had felt before. It caused instant nausea. Grant had to tell himself to stop, just stop. Jonas was a grown man. He was fine.

Even though he thought he couldn’t help but worry just a tad and feel bad about the last time he talked to his son, or rather, argued with him.

It happened not long before he left for his gig.

“No,” Grant told Jonas, as they stood in the driveway right outside the house. “No.”

“Are you serious?” Jonas hissed. “You’re not letting me borrow your truck?”

“No, Jonas, I’m not.”

“I have a gig.”

“I know.”

“It’s three hours away.”

“I know,” Grant said.

“I walked all the way over