She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,35

gonna come up Nobles toward Brownsville!”

“I see them! I see them! Four white Chevy Suburbans! They just turned left out of the cemetery, heading north on Brownsville. Passing Birmingham right now!” Dunk said.

I dragged my bike from the ditch, almost dropped the radio, then climbed on the wet seat and pedaled as hard as I could, heading east on Nobles, the heavy raindrops pelting me in the face and the icy wind slashing my cheeks.

“I…see you…Dunk!” Willy crackled, out of breath. “I just passed the cemetery. Where are the…” Static again.

“…Left on Nobles! I repeat, they made a left on Nobles! Thatch, they’re coming toward you!” Dunk shouted. “I almost had them. They got caught in traffic. I just turned on Nobles, and they’re about a hundred yards ahead of me, picking up speed. Thatch, do you see them?”

Nobles Lane appeared deserted. I pressed the transmit button. “Negative, nothing yet. Maybe they took one of the side roads.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” Dunk replied. “All those streets are dead ends.”

I pedaled harder, my legs throbbing. “Maybe they went to a house back there.”

My radio let out a loud squeal, and I saw the headlights come around the bend ahead.

“I see them! I see them!”

Static.

“Dunk!”

The first SUV had their high beams on, and the thick, white light sliced through the rain. Standing water sprayed in their wake, a tall plume nearly twice the height of the vehicle. The speed limit on Nobles was thirty miles per hour. They were doing at least twice that and picking up speed. The three other SUVs keeping pace behind the first, only a few feet separating each.

“Dunk!” I shouted again into the radio.

Nothing.

I hammered my legs down into the pavement, and with one quick jerk, I spun my bike around in the opposite direction and began peddling as fast as I could back the way I had come.

The engine grew louder at my back.

My eyes took in the road, the guardrails on both sides of the pavement, the trees beyond that. I knew this stretch of road. There was no place for me to go until Denise Street and Colerain, and that was nearly a half mile ahead. I’d never make it.

The light of their high beams crept up the pavement, first behind me, then even, then they lit up the road ahead turning the rain into a white curtain, a wall.

The SUV revved again, it sounded like it was right on top of me and I dared not look back.

The driver hit the horn and held the button down, a shrill scream.

Then they hit me.

They hit me hard.

The SUV slammed into the back tire of my bike and jerked to the left with a force strong enough to launch me from the road and over the metal guardrail. Everything got deathly silent, and the next second seemed to drag on for an hour.

With the impact, I lost the radio as well as my grip on the handlebars. The seat disappeared beneath me. I crashed into the ground, landing on my right shoulder with a sickening crunch. My leg folded up under me, then got yanked back out straight as I rolled. I’m not sure what happened after my head hit the ground. All went real quiet.

2

The dream.

Daddy fastened me into my car seat.

Chocolate milk.

Outside Auntie Jo’s apartment.

Daddy opened my door.

Daddy removed something from the seat beside me, gave that something to Auntie Jo.

Something.

Unknown something.

Driving again.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Jack?”

“What was in the box?”

“What box?”

“The box you gave Auntie Jo.”

“Oh, that box,” he dad replied. “Nothing, Jack. Nothing at all.”

White SUV in our path.

White SUV blocking the road.

“Why would you give Auntie Jo a box of nothing?”

Awful squeal of tires.

“Not now, Jack. Daddy’s busy.”

3

“Thatch?”

“Thatch, can you hear me?”

When my eyes opened, a giant bat hovered over me. Enormous wings spread wide and flapping. We were under water and the bat stared down at me, screaming my name over the thunderous sound of the pounding waves at the surface.

“Thatch!”

I blinked.

Not a bat.

Dunk.

Dunk standing over me with his jacket open, holding both sides out to block the rain.

“Don’t move, Jack.”

“They hit…”

“I saw.”

“We need to get help!” Willy said from somewhere behind me. “He needs an ambulance!”

Dunk leaned in closer. “Can you hear me, Jack?”

I nodded.

“Can you say my name?”

“Yeah.”

“Say it.”

“Why?”

Duncan slapped my cheek with the open palm of his hand. “Say it!”

“Duncan Bellino.”

“What year is it?”

“1988.”

“Who’s the president?”

“Oh, come on.”

“Say it?”

“Ronald Reagan.”

I tried to sit up, fell back down, my head splashing in the muddy earth.

“He shouldn’t move. Don’t let him