An Inhuman Condition

1

Adam is speeding down interstate 114 in his two-tone Dodge Dart, and his shoulder is killing him. The car’s powder-blue paintjob gives way a little more to the encroaching rust every year. The hood and roof look like a copper penny shoved through the center of a robin’s egg as it shakes it’s way down the road. The sun is setting, and he can barely make out the Lakeview exit for the glare. His normally slick and slightly curled hair is matte and dirty with the same blood covering his cheek and neck. His bed-head hairstyle is much more literal, resting on his face like James Dean wearing a mophead as a hat. His eyes are burning sapphire on the road as he snorts, taps the brake and forces the wheel to the right with his lip curling from the pain of the gunshot wound. As he squints to check for traffic, he sees Jenny’s ring on a chain around the mirror. He wishes he’d never gotten her involved in all this again, and he hopes he can get her out this time. His right foot hits the floor, and pain be damned, he spins out around the corner racing down the street.

***********************************************************

2

One week earlier, Kevin is using his pocket knife to ever-so-gently open the apartment window. He’s trying not to clamor around too loudly on the fire-escape steps and alert any do-gooder neighbors to his actions. The dusk light creates a shadow between buildings, and he is almost invisible from any passers-by. The aging window has plenty of give, and he makes easy work of the shoddy lock. As he climbs through the window, a cat darts down the dark hallway of the apartment. He takes a moment to survey the room: family photos, a modest television, cheap bookshelf stereo and plenty of Pier1\Target type furnishings are the immediate centerpieces of the room. The kitchenette seems barely lived in with the electric teapot exposed and central as the most commonly used appliance.The solitary teacup and book laying on the coffee table confirm his suspicions. He pockets the bookmark and makes his way down the dark hall looking for the bedroom.

As he approaches the bed, the cat runs by the opposite way not looking for any trouble. Kevin quickly goes through the drawers, tossing the jewelry into his backpack. He takes a small, heavy mirror from the dresser that might be silver. He can see the red whiskers of his beard getting a little long. Coupled with the dark bags under his eyes and the ambivalent expression on his face, he feels like exactly the sort of person people would expect to do something like this. He figures he might as well spend the cash on booze and drugs to complete the stereotype. At the bottom of a drawer, he finds an old photo of her ripped in half. The tear left a dismembered arm pictured over her shoulder. Whoever it belonged to clearly isn’t here anymore. There isn’t much else he can find to take from her that time hasn’t managed on its own.

“Bitch,” Kevin says. “I’m going to shit in your bed.”

He unbuckles his belt, inches down his pants, and pulls up the comforter.

***********************************************************

3

“Looks like Kevin isn’t showing up again,” Rob says, unsurprised. “We’ve got some new faces here tonight. Jenny, you want to start us off?”

“Sure, Rob. My name is Jennifer Hart, and I’m an addict. Every day I can say it a little easier, but it wasn’t always the case. When I was twenty-one, my boyfriend and I would take pills, drink until we couldn’t see straight and ride around looking for the next thrill. It got so bad, I couldn’t stand the thought of spending a day sober. We were living in a one-and-a-half story bungalow in the Valley, a trashy place ten years ago. I was bartending part-time after dropping out of school, and he was taking the odd repair job on cars and doing general handiwork to make ends meet. Every spare cent, we spent on something that could make us feel anything but the truth. I started shoplifting from time to time, and he and his buddies were breaking into houses, lifting wallets off drunks at my bar. Toward the end, they started stealing cars. As it got worse, I needed more. Painkillers weren’t enough; liquor wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough.”

Jenny stops for a moment to compose herself.

“The lows were always causing tension, and the drugs and alcohol were turning me into a monster. One night, after the bar had closed, I finished a fifth of tequila I stole from work and went home to find Adam and his friend Mike celebrating. He told me how they stole a car from some street thugs and found a couple automatic weapons in the trunk. He said ‘Baby, now me and Mikey can steal anything!’ I couldn’t believe how far we’d been dragged down by our lifestyle, and we had the worst fight of my life. It was so bad that Mike left with his tail between his legs a few minutes in. I felt like Adam was on a fast track to prison, and he blamed me for always needing more. We destroyed the already crappy house throwing anything we could get our hands on. Windows shattered, life broken. I knew there was no way we could come back from a fight like this. After 90 minutes of hell, I grabbed my car keys and left.”

“I was so angry I didn’t consider the state I was in. I drove down the 114 as fast as I could just trying to escape the fight still banging around in my head. Between the pills and the bottle of liquor, I wasn’t in control. I remember turning off the freeway and blowing through the exit stop. Then it’s just lights and the scraping, tearing sound of metal. The next thing I remember is the hospital room. The man I hit was Mayor Green. He was driving to the airport for an early flight, and all they could tell me is he was in critical condition. They had an officer waiting inside my room who let me know I was under arrest as soon as the hospital released me. He gave me a grim lecture about manslaughter and what would happen if the mayor didn’t make it.”

“Between the fight with Adam and the terrible act squarely on my shoulders, it was the worst I’ve felt in all my life. I wished I had died in that wreck over and over. I felt like I had nothing to live for, and when the cop left the room, I slit open my wrist on the metal tray table in the room. I woke up later that day stitched back together with a new officer and a hospital staff babysitter. From that point on, they never gave me a minute alone until the trial. I was forced to feel the full effect of my actions completely sober, and I couldn’t even kill myself properly.”

“I was lucky in the long run. The mayor made it through, and I only served six of the fifteen-year prison sentence. I used that time to join an NA group and finish a degree in nonprofit management. When I first went in, it tore my family apart, but by the time I got out, they could see how my life had changed. I’m grateful to have people in my life supportive of my recovery, and I know now that things could have been much, much worse.”

“My name is Jenny. I’m an addict, and that’s my story.”

The crowd mutters a chant of “Thank you, Jenny.”

Rob stands up with a few quiet claps, “And I’ve forgiven Jenny for what happened that night. I’m blessed to still be alive, and I feel privileged to have Jenny’s help here raising awareness about drunk driving and assisting others to turn their lives around. She is our shining star of what’s possible when you commit to recovery with all your heart.”

Kevin, the mayor’s son, walks in to the crowd clapping for his dad. He rolls his eyes, and heads straight to the coffee pot.

“Alright, folks, I say we take a quick ten-minute breather. Then we’ll get Kevin up here to start off the rest of the sharing. Isn’t that right, Kevin?”

Kevin spills the coffee he’s trying to pour over the side of his foam cup. “Fuck, ouch. Sure, dad. Whatever. Shit.”

Former mayor green shakes his head to the group, “That’s my boy.”

***********************************************************

4

Adam has an 80s Oldsmobile jacked up on cement blocks in his garage. The garage door is wide open, and only the tools and odd boxes in the back of the garage are clearly lit. From the street, he looks like a silhouette man working under a shadow car. He scoots out on his trolley, sits up and pulls a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket draped over the driver’s mirror. He fishes the lighter out of the small pocket of his jeans and lights the cigarette. Kevin and his moped pull into the driveway.

“Hey, sunshine, I’ve got some goods to move.” Kevin yells over the moped’s telltale vreem.

Adam stands up from the trolley and grabs his jacket. “More video games and cellphones?”

“Nah, jewelry this time. Nothing great, but I’m hoping it’ll fetch a few dimes.”

“Come in, have a drink, then?” Adam says while hitting the garage light off. They make their way through the front door and into the house.

The living room is a mess typically found when groups of men live together, but it seems Adam has been able to keep it up on his own. A small recliner with duct-taped armrests and cat-scratched loveseat surrounding the TV appear to be the only usable furniture with relatively few items thrown over them. An overflowing ashtray sits on a paintcan next to the recliner surrounded by a ring of Labatt Blue bottles. A Sony Playstation controller is crawling out from under a pizza box near the old, wood-paneled TV to rest on the recliner. The full couch has been taken over by unpacked boxes and is also serving as a sort of clothes pile, although whether clean, dirty or both, is not immediately discernible. Adam tosses his jacket in a pile of other coats near the door and slides past the back of the recliner on the only path to the kitchen.

Kevin takes a small velvet bag out of his jacket pocket and tip-toes through the mess over to the loveseat. He picks the pizza box off the Playstation and dumps the bag’s contents on top of it like like a trash-dump jeweler. He’s organizing the selection and making sure all the stones are face-up when Adam returns with a couple long-necks. He tosses the game controller toward the TV and plops into the recliner, ashing his cigarette on top of the paintcan coffee table.

“So this is the selection, I see. Been nicking off old ladies at the nursing home again?” Adam hands Kevin a beer.

“Nah, I stole these from this cautionary-tale bitch at the meetings my dad makes me go to. I followed her home last week and scoped the place out.”

“They don’t look like anything special,” Adam suggests.

“It’s more of a middle-finger than expecting to get rich, dude. Maybe I can get a little bit of cash, buy a 30-pack or quarter and wait for Brent to come through with a good score. I just wanted to get back at this chick for droning on and on about her problems every week. You don’t see me turning on the tear ducts for every group of strangers that wanders through. It’s pathetic.”

Adam twists off the top of his beer and takes a closer look at the rings and necklaces. He picks up the ring with the largest stone and takes a long sip.

“That one’s obviously a fake. I had my hopes up when I saw it though. They’re all shit, aren’t they?” Kevin opens his bottle and chugs defeatedly.

“I’ll give you fifty for this, and you can keep the rest.” Adam’s eyes are lost in the costume ring. “The girl you stole it from, what’s her name?”

“Jennifer Hart, she’s the drunk that crashed into my old man and fucked up his knee. This whole charity and forgiveness act of his is some kind of ploy for the old fart to run for Senate. It’s just another damn show to him, some bullshit for the papers to play on people’s sympathy.”

“Jenny’s ring,” Adam was lost in time. “Didn’t even hear she got out.”

***********************************************************

5

“That’s what I’m saying, this place used to be the chop shop in town.” Brent’s crushing up some meth on a small scrap of carbon fiber resting on a rusted standing tool chest. “The guy, Mike, just got out of prison and wants to open back up. Not just cars though; he’s got a solid crystal connection from prison and is looking to open up full time stealing, dealing. It’s some hardcore biker shit.”

“And you think there’s some cash in it?” Kevin took a hit from his pipe. “I need to get out of my dad’s. Old shit is driving me crazy.”

“Hell yeah, there’s cash in it.” Brent snorts a line off the tool chest. “Mike’s talking about heavy work. H-E-A-V-Y. Hit?”

“Nah, I’m still trying to get something off this ditch. Any good green around?”

Brent finishes off the other line, snorts hard. “Baldy’s got some.”

“Baldy’s fucking crazy. Asshole thinks I tried to screw him out of twenty bucks and gives me the voodoo stink eye when I see him.” Kevin gives up on his cached pipe and taps it against his knee dumping ashes onto the floor.

“You owe Baldy, I’d pay the bastard.”

“I don’t owe him though. Probably mixed me up with someone else. I tried to give him the money, clear the air, but he got all huffy and said I couldn’t buy integrity.”

“Haha, sounds like fuckin’ Baldy alright.” Brent cleans up the remaining crystal with a razor and goes after the last bit with his straw. “I can try to get it from him if you got cash.”

Kevin hands over the fifty bucks. “It ain’t much, but just get me what you can. I needs my medicine.”

“What you need, Kev, is a fuckin’ job.” Brent continues snorting to get the remaining scraps out of his nose hair. “Let me get you talking with Mike, man. He specifically asked for anyone who knows Sun.”

“What’s he want with Adam?”

“They go way back I guess. He wants his old buddy involved.”

“You think it matters that Adam doesn’t boost anymore? He just works on cars: fixes up classics or works on old ladies’ Volvos that need oil changes.”

“Way Mike was talking, didn’t seem like Sun was out, but maybe he didn’t keep in touch. I doubt they stayed pen pals, you know?”

Kevin puts his velcro wallet and pipe back into his cargo pocket. “I guess in business it’s not what you know, but who you know.”

“That’s good, Kev, ‘cause you don’t know shit.”

***********************************************************

6

Adam sits in his car outside Hawk’s Diner a few days later. He’s watching Jenny move from table to table topping off coffee, taking down orders and bringing plates of food to the early risers. There’s a certain elegance to the dance of food service that can only be observed from a distance. In the midst of the restaurant’s kitchen and tables, it would surely seem like disordered chaos. Seeing her sway again, his heart’s muscle memory takes him back to when they were young and in love. The niceness of it all is something Adam hasn’t felt in the years since, but he knows the twang of pain will resonate the moment he walks in. He waits a while more before building up the courage to enter.

He snugly secures an old baseball cap to his head and tucks his face down into his jean jacket before walking in. The second she disappears into the kitchen, he bursts through the door and seats himself in an unoccupied corner. His heart is racing when she appears again, and he suddenly thinks this has all been a terrible mistake. He would give anything to be back out in the car. She delivers food to a table across the restaurant, pirouettes to the service counter grabbing an extra set of silverware and the coffee pot utilizing Pas de Chat steps between tables to warm up the mugs. She notices him in the corner and moves en avant toward him while pulling her pad and pencil out of her apron. Adam looks down even more to hide his face.

“Hey, there. I didn’t see you sneak in. What can I get you to drink?”

“Uhm, do you have, uh, minute to, talk?”

“I don’t think we have that here,” Jenny smiled joking. “What do you want to talk about?”

He set the ring down on the table and looked up. “It’s me, Jenny.”

“Shit, ah, sorry. Adam, what are you doing here?”

“I found your ring and wanted to bring it back.

She paused for a moment before answering. “Did you break into my apartment? What the hell is this?”

Adam’s expression filled with terror, “No, no! Kevin Green had it and was trying to sell it. I got it from him and wanted to return it. I, uh, had to ask around to find out you were working here. I didn’t know you were back.”

“Back?” she snorted incredulously. “Don’t you mean “out”? That’s how you say it, right? ‘You didn’t hear I got out of the clink.’”

“I, uh, I’m, just. I wanted to bring it back. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? No, I’m sorry. Sorry I ever got so messed up with you that I need to work so damn hard to fix everything I broke now that I’m back.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“No, you never mean to, do you? Can you just go? I can’t do this.” Jenny turns and stomps into the kitchen.

Adam says to himself, “But you kept the ring.”

He writes a note in marker on one of the napkins and sets the ring on top.

Wish we could go back and not end up here.

-A

***********************************************************

7

Adam is sitting on the hood of his car in front of their old place in the Valley. The small house is under construction along with a half dozen others around it. Looks like it’s being turned into semi-trendy student housing judging by the rest of the block. Probably splitting it into a studio and a one-bedroom apartment. It was never really big enough for much else. The old man who owned it back then is probably glad Adam never took him up on the land contract. But that would have been after the wedding anyway, an alternate future seeming like a distant past that never happened. That’s how plans turn into regrets as you get older. They add up to one long list of all the things you never started as the ghosts of these alternate lives haunt your thoughts with their what-if wails.

Adam’s lost in the stirring past when a car pulls up. His gaze never turns from the house he and Jenny lived in. He doesn’t see the other figure approaching, but Mike’s familiar voice seems right in line with the era of his thoughts.

“Takin’ a trip down memory lane, are we?”

Adam turns and stares for a moment before deciding that this is a present-day Mike and not some trick of his overactive imagination, just an illusion in the blinding headlights.

“Mikey? Is that really you?”

“In the flesh, old friend. The Green kid said he was going to meet you down here, and I paid him to buzz off. I want to talk about an exclusive business opportunity.”

“When did you get back?”

“Been out for a week and getting the ol’ homestead up and running again. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know any of these kids running the streets, and I ain’t heard about anyone who could steal a car half as good as you.”

“I don’t boost anymore. If you don’t remember, I stopped a long time ago.”

“Yeah, and as I’ve been sitting around staring the same four walls for a stretch, all I could think about was that I might not be stuck there if only my old buddy Adam hadn’t bailed on me.”

“You can’t put that on me. I told you we needed to stop. Things were getting way too hot. Jenny was right; we were going too far. I didn’t see it until I realized what it was doing to her, but then I really saw it. I saw was it was doing to me, to both of us. We were speeding head-on to prison, and you didn’t believe me.”

“I could have given you up back then. I didn’t just go down for shit I did after you quit, you know. But I never rolled on you, figuring we were still friends and such. The way I see it, you owe me for that. This is an opportunity man; the town’s gone soft. All these yuppie transplants aren’t ready for some real shit. We don’t have to worry about steppin’ on toes anymore because the heavy hitters are all gone. I want you to do this with me, and that’s the only reason I even bothered driving up here. What do you say?”

“I…” Adam feels stuck between Jenny and Mike again; stuck at the crossroads between two lives he thought were both behind him. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say as a fuckin’ thank you?”

“Yeah, I just can’t go back.”

“Well you think long and hard on what ending this friendship means before making that decision. You come find me at the shop when you change your mind.”

***********************************************************

8

Kevin is hanging around the chop shop listening to Brent go on endlessly about the elegance and power of the Honda CB750. Kevin is high enough that the history lesson is whizzing by like a high speed motorcycle. All he can really tell is that Brent seems particularly excited by the dual overhead cam and thinks the first thing he should do with their newfound employment is replace the ratty moped with one of these superbikes.

“Yeah, man. That sounds really cool. Can I get one in a, like, green sort of color? Then it could really, like, be for me, you know?”

“Dude, who gives a shit what color it is? The guys here can paint it for you. You’re fucked up, man. I’m telling you, you really need to stop smoking pot. All you want to do is sit on the couch and make dumb observations, man. You can’t even see how it’s the perfect engine for a bike. You can outrun the cops on one of these. Can’t do that on a crappy moped. Jeff knows a guy selling an ‘82 Nighthawk with 31,000 miles on it.”

“You’re talking so fast man; is it green?”

“What?”

“Because if I’m making the green, I want people to know, you know. Like, ‘This is Kevin, man. He makes the green.” Because that’s like, It’s like my name is money.”

“Get your ass off that couch and snort some crystal, man. You are so far gone right now, there is absolutely nothing I can do for you. You’re just rambling about the color, and I’m talking about the sportbike to get when we make our first score.”

Brent passes over a tray with some pre-crushed and lined up meth to Kevin.

“Just breathe it in through the bill, man. Roll it up and snort it up.”

Kevin slowly manages to accomplish the task with 45% efficiency.

“Shit man, it burns. Fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s good fucking meth.”

Mike walks in on Brent finishing up what Kevin left behind. Kevin is holding his nose and repeatedly snorting. He is obviously in great pain. Mike can clearly tell what the kids have been up to and starts laughing.

“Green, your dad runs the fucking NA meetings, and you didn’t know snorting meth was going to burn? Are you that stupid?”

“It’s AA. I’ve never snorted meth before, ouch. I think I smoked some pot laced with it, but I’m not into this speed stuff. Damn.”

Brent chimes in laughing, “I’ve never been able to get him to try it. He’ll smoke all the weed he can find, but wouldn’t put a pinch up his nose to save his life.” To Kevin, “You must be fucked up tonight, man.”

“Well sober up, children. We’re about to make that startup capital I’ve been talking about. A big deal is going down tonight that I need both of you to be a part of. It’s the inaugural run of the new gang. Aren’t you fucking excited?”

“Is this shit supposed to make my nose all stuffy?”

“You’ll be fine, Green. Just wake the hell up, and we’ll go get our buddy Adam.”

“Sunn’s in?” Brent asks.

“Yeah, I think Adam, like everyone, just needs the right motivation to succeed.”

***********************************************************

9

Jenny hops off her bike and storms up Adam’s driveway. She can see him tinkering under a boat-sized car sitting on blocks. She’s worked up the anger in her head and clutches the ring on a chain in her fist.

“Adam Sunn, you have got some, damn nerve showing up at my job!”

He peeks out from under the car and sees her standing there in a fighting posture with a healthy scowl and clenched fists at her sides.

“What do you have to say for yourself? You just show up and want to talk? What could I possibly have to say to you?”

He wheels out from under the car, stands, and pulls his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Do you know what I’ve had to deal with or what my life was like? Do you know a single thing that happened to me after I drove off?”

He lights a cigarette and inhales deep.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? Because all you have ever cared to pay attention to is what’s going on right in front of your face. I don’t hear one word from you or about you until they tell me you’re running around town with whatever tramp you can find while I’m sitting in fuckin’ prison. Not just jail, but in fuckin’ prison. And you don’t know what that’s like. Not hearing from you, being in a place like that. I couldn’t even kill myself right. You were the sum of all the stupid mistakes I made back then. So tell me, Adam, since it’s so important. What might I have to say to you?”

“Kevin Green stole your ring, and I wanted to give it back.”

“Oh, the ring, you care about the ring? I tell you what, I don’t give a shit what happens to you or this ring. You can have it back.” Jenny throws the ring at Adam, turns and walks away.

He picks up the ring and catches up with her. “Jenny, wait. I didn’t mean to piss you off. I don’t want to fight. I just figured that you kept it all this time and you should have it back.”

He grabs her shoulder, and she turns around crying.

“Adam, I don’t think I can talk to you.”

Mike’s car pulls in front of the driveway, and two tattooed no-necks get out of the passenger side. They point guns at Jenny and Adam as they approach.

“Nobody move a damn inch!” the bald one says.

Before Adam can understand what’s happening they are pulling Jenny back to the car. He tries to follow, but they bark threats at him he can’t make out from her screams and the confusion. Mike has come around the car and is walking up the driveway. The thugs stuff Jenny into the car and get in after her. It’s all swirling around in Adam’s head as he balls up his fist and punches Mike in the jaw. Words start coming back to his head.

“Now why the hell did you do that, buddy?” Mike says from a bloody grin.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mike?”

“I wanted you to be my partner, but you obviously don’t feel like our friendship means anything. Despite that, you still fucking owe me, and I expect a favor for that. Her being here makes sense. She’s why you backed out on me before, right? So I’m just going to hold onto her for a bit to make sure I get what I’m owed. Now you’re going to get in your car and follow us to a deal. When the other guys show up, you flash your headlights at them. Baldy and Jones will get out of my car and handle the deal. Brent and Kevin are going to load some things into your trunk. I’m going to keep Jenny company so she doesn’t get restless, and we’re all going to drive off separate ways and meet back at the shop. At that point, you get your precious lady back.”

***********************************************************

10

Adam puts on his jacket and gets in his car. Jenny’s ring is still balled up in the fist he hit Mike with. He hangs it on the rear-view mirror and lights another cigarette. The car growls to life with a turn of the key, and he speeds backwards out of the driveway onto the street. The cars and street signs mean nothing to him as he just follows the motions of a person driving. In his head he can only think about Jenny and whatever bullshit Mike is dragging them into. Before he left, Mike actually tried to give Adam a gun, and that has him worried. He hadn’t held a pistol since the night of Jenny’s accident, and he won’t change that now.

He wants to have a real conversation with her to explain everything. He thinks she might be right; that he might be the cause of all her suffering. He’s certainly to blame for this predicament, and if they hadn’t gotten into a fight that night, well maybe things would be different now. They could be living in that house on the hill. She wouldn’t have a record, and she wouldn’t be hurt. Neither of them would have to be hurt by all his mistakes.

The cars turn off behind an old clock shop and park. He can’t see Jenny in the back of Mike’s car, but he can make out Kevin driving the other one. He’s been hurt by all this too. His dad’s accident, Jenny’s accident, really seemed to mess him up. Adam wonders if he had just made different choices how many people would be living better lives, how much could be different.

The sun is starting to set as two black BMWs pull into the lot. He flashes the headlights, and watches them approach. Eight doors open on the four cars as everyone gets out. Everyone except Mike, Jenny and him. When the guns come out and fire, everything blurs again. He just keeps thinking about all of the pain. All the pain that never needed to happen.

When he snaps back out of it, he’s looking at Jenny’s ring on the mirror. Mike’s car is barrelling down the 114. The sun’s angle is blinding, and he can barely see it up ahead taking the Lakeview exit. He forces his arm to take the exit and turn right. Mike’s car is nowhere in sight, but it’s clear they’re heading to the old chop shop. He winces as he forces the wheel to dodge traffic. Damn car wasn’t meant for agility as it growls and shakes with the gas pedal all the way down. He won’t let her get hurt again.

***********************************************************

11

“Brent, wake the fuck up, man!”

Kevin is shouting all the curse words he can manage at Brent. His mind is racing, and he doesn’t know how much is the meth and how much is the bullet his leg. Either way, Brent is worse off and bleeding from the stomach and chest. Kevin keeps looking over to check for any change. He yells in his ear and shakes him.

Mike never mentioned they were ripping off some hardcore drug guys. How the hell did he think that plan would work? Jones and Baldy didn’t make it, and Brent can’t stay awake. It looked like they shot Adam too as he was speeding off after Mike. His hands are covered in blood from stuffing Brent into the car. He was breathing much heavier then, large gulps. He should be driving to the hospital, but they said they would meet at the shop, so he needs to get to the shop. Mike made it out, and he’ll know what to do for Brent. They know people and have safe places to go in times like this, right.

Brent coughs up what looks like blood and Kevin shifts over to shake him some more.

“Brent! Brent, you have to wake up! Can you hear me?! Can you fucking hear me? Say something! We’re almost there, so just hold on. Hold on, damn it!”

He’s so distracted by Brent that he doesn’t see Mike’s car taking the same turn from the opposite direction. Everything flashes around him as his injured leg tries to stomp down on the brakes. Then it’s all twists of metal and shattering glass.

***********************************************************

12

Two blocks from the shop, Adam catches up to the wreck. Mike’s car is flipped and Kevin’s is crushed through the engine. He slams on the brakes and hops out to check on Jenny. She’s hung up on the seatbelt and bleeding. He forces the door off its hinges and pulls to get her out. The pain in his shoulder and arm is tremendous, but he has to pull her out. She has to be ok. He drags her back to his car and sits her up in the passenger seat. She’s breathing but still unconscious.

Adam looks back at the wreckage, and Mike’s neck is twisted around with his clavicle showing clearly through the skin. In the other car, Brent also looks like a goner, but Kevin is still breathing. His leg is bent the wrong way and his face is cut up, but he’s still alive. Adam knows he probably shouldn’t pull Kevin out of the car, but he drags him through the window and onto the curb.

He shakes his head on the way back to Jenny. He’s relieved to see her eyes open.

“Jenny, can you understand me?”

She nods.

“Your brother kicked my ass after the accident and told me not to come near you or even think about writing you a letter. I kept asking around about you through. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, considering I mean. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I told Mike I wouldn’t get back in the life, and this is what he did. I think he’s probably dead. I think they might all be dying. Everyone except us and Kevin.”

Adam takes another look at the ring.

“I figured he was right, your brother I mean. Being with me turned you into someone you weren’t before. So I just thought maybe everyone was right, and it would just be better for you if you never heard from me again. I never stopped thinking about you. All the time you were away, you stuck with me. That’s why I never got with anyone serious. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t stop feeling for you. I never wanted you to get hurt, Jenny. I …”

“I still love you.”

The police sirens are getting closer as Adam holds Jenny’s hand. She stares back at him with tears running down her eyes. He knows he should start the car and drive away, but he just can’t yet.

“I wanted you to have the ring back because I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you, too,” she says.

The blue and red lights flash around them, but they are lost in a distant blur, somewhere else, where nothing hurts anymore.