“Her name’s kinda weird, not gonna lie. Janine Mae Lamb. Janine Mae is her first name. You have to say both names.” Ryan maintained his speed as they approached the curve, marked by a caution sign with an arrow pointing right.
“I don’t think that’s a weird name. I think it’s pretty. Feminine.” Jake made approving noises to keep up the good vibe. The car’s headlights illuminated the caution sign, setting its fluorescence aglow. “Lower your speed. It’s a blind curve.”
“On it.” Ryan slowed down.
“So what’s she like, personality-wise?”
“She’s funny. She has a Texas accent. She says pin when she means pen.”
“Accents are good. Accents can be adorable.”
“Agree!” Ryan beamed as they reached the curve, and Jake felt happy for him.
“So you’re going out with her tomorrow night? Why don’t you take her someplace nice, on me, like a restaurant?”
“A restaurant? Dude, we’re not olds like you!” Ryan looked over in disbelief as he steered around the curve, and Jake met his eye, bursting into laughter.
But in that split second, there was a sickening thump.
They jolted as if they’d hit something, and Ryan slammed on the brakes, cranking the wheel to the left. The right side of the car bumped up and down, fishtailed wildly, and skidded to a stop.
And then everything went quiet.
Chapter Two
“What was that?” Jake threw an arm across Ryan, but the accident was over as suddenly as it had begun. The noise had come from the passenger side of the car, toward the front.
“Dad, I’m sorry, I hit something, I think it was a deer.” Ryan shook his head, upset. “I didn’t see it, I was looking at you. I hope I didn’t hurt it or the car.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the car.” Jake hadn’t seen anything because he’d been looking at Ryan. The car sat perpendicular on the street, its headlights blasting the trees. The airbags hadn’t gone off. The windshield was intact. The engine was still running.
“If it’s a deer, maybe it’s not dead. Maybe we can call the vet. Dr. Rowan is a good guy. He’d come, wouldn’t he?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. It’s kind of late to call him.” Jake twisted around and checked behind them. The back of the car had stopped short of a tree and a yellow stanchion sticking out of the ground with a sign that read GAS PIPELINE. He shuddered to think how much worse it could have been.
“Maybe the emergency vet then? Can we call them?”
“Let me go see. You stay here.” Jake patted Ryan’s arm, opened the car door, and got out, steeling himself for the sight. He’d hit a deer two years ago and still felt guilty. He looked to the right, where the sound had come from. Something dark and lumpy lay off the road, in the raggedy fringe of brush bordering the woods, bathed in the red glow of their taillights.
Oh my God.
Jake knew what he was seeing, in his heart, before his brain let him accept the reality. He found himself racing toward the dark and fallen form. It wasn’t a deer. It was a human being, on its side, facing away from him. It couldn’t be anything else from the shape. And it was lying still, so still.
Jake threw himself on the ground beside the body. A woman runner in a black jersey and black running tights lay motionless on her side, her skinny body like a limp stick figure.
“Miss, Miss!” Jake called out, frantic. She didn’t reply or moan. He pressed her neck to see if she had a pulse, but didn’t feel anything. He couldn’t see much in the dim light. The woman was petite. She had long hair. Dark blood flowed from a wound near her hairline. Her features glistened, abraded by the asphalt. Road dirt pitted her nose and cheek.
“Miss!” Jake leaned over her chest, trying to hear a heartbeat, but he couldn’t hear anything. He turned the woman over on her back to begin CPR and put an arm under her neck to open her airway. Her head dropped backwards. He realized with horror that she was dead.
“Ryan! Help! Call 911!” Jake shouted, horrified. He’d left his phone in the car. He knew CPR. He’d been an Eagle Scout. He prayed the protocol hadn’t changed. He bent over and began CPR, breathing into her mouth, willing oxygen into her lungs, counting off breaths in his head. Her lips were still warm, but she didn’t respond.
“Dad! Oh my God, oh my God!” Ryan came running up, his hands on his head, doubled over in shock. “It’s a lady! I hit a lady?”
“Call 911!” Jake stopped breathing for her, shifted position, linked his fingers, and pumped the woman’s chest, counting off in his head, praying to God he could resuscitate her. He had to bring her back. She couldn’t be dead. This couldn’t be happening.
“What are you doing? Tell me she’s alive! She’s alive, isn’t she? No, this can’t be! She has to be alive! I’m calling 911!” Ryan shook his head, edging backwards. His breaths came in ragged bursts. He pulled his phone from his pocket, but dropped it, agitated. “Dad, she … doesn’t look like she’s alive! She’s alive … isn’t she? She can’t be … dead!”
“Stay calm, pick up your phone, and call 911.” Jake pumped her chest, counting off the beats, trying to stay in emotional control. The woman still didn’t respond. He kept pumping.
“Dad … no it can’t be true!” Ryan cried out, bursting into an anguished sob. “I have to call … my phone! They can help her!” He dropped to his knees, frantically looking in the dark for his phone, crying and crawling around the street. “She can’t be dead … where’s my phone? I can’t find my phone!”
Jake kept pumping on the woman’s chest. His efforts became futile, grotesque. He was abusing her body. She had become a corpse. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t understand. It was inconceivable. She had been alive a minute ago, running around the curve. Now she was dead. They had killed her.
God, no.
Jake stopped pumping and leaned back on his haunches. Tears came to his eyes. His hand went to his mouth, reflexively stifling himself. He looked down at the woman in the dim light. The sight broke his heart, and he knew it would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. He bent his head and sent up a silent prayer on her behalf.
“No, no! Where’s my … phone?” Ryan sobbed, scrambling for his phone on all fours. “I killed … a lady, I killed … a lady, I wasn’t looking … it’s all my fault!”
“Ryan, she’s gone,” Jake whispered, his throat thick with emotion.
“No, no, no, no, she’s not gone … she’s not gone … what did I do?” Ryan fell over, collapsing into tears, his forehead on the asphalt. “Dad, I killed her … no, no, no!”
Jake rubbed his eyes, dragged himself to his feet, and half-walked and half-stumbled to Ryan.
“No, no, no!” Ryan cried, his big body folded onto itself, racked with sobs. “I can’t … believe this. I … killed someone, I killed that … lady!”
“We’ll get through this, Ryan.” Jake gathered him up and hugged him tight, and they clung to each other in a devastated embrace.
“I killed … that lady … I killed … that lady! I wasn’t … looking!”
“I didn’t see her either. I’m at fault too, we both are.” Jake held him close, then spotted Ryan’s phone glinting in the light, by the side of the road.
“I killed her! Oh no oh no … what did I do?” Ryan wept and permitted himself to be held, and Jake’s thoughts raced ahead. He’d call 911, but if he told the police that Ryan had been at the wheel, Ryan could get a criminal record, since he’d been driving after hours on a learner’s permit. It would jeopardize his college admissions, basketball scholarships, everything. And Pam would never forgive him for letting Ryan drive or letting this happen. The open secret of their marriage was that his wife loved their son more than she loved him. Jake reached a decision.
“Ryan, listen to me. We need to call the police, but we can’t tell them the truth. We’re going to tell them that I was driving, not you. Got it? We’ll say I was the driver, and you were the passenger.”