Nightwalker

Three

Riordan

I couldn't think of my father's escapades. Not now at least.

I know he has no intentions of replacing my mother, I was only concerned that he was going on a date when he was out of the dating game for eons.

My headache hadn't subsided since I came back from rugby practice and it only got worse thinking about a plan to save Caleb from his own demise.

I couldn't drive to Caleb's because my father took to the car for his date, and I couldn't use our transit system because it doesn't reach all the way up North where he lives.

I asked myself if it was worth it. Not because Caleb's life was up for debate, but because all my effort to save his life could still be in vain.

I could make it in time. Or I couldn't. Even if I did, how would I stop him? What are my chances of even finding him at a party that's one-third of our student body?

But then I think about the crinkling of iron.

The screeching tires, broken glass, and hot skid marks. The images are always vivid, and they've never once told me anything but the truth. Coincidentally, AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' struggled to play through the broken car radio as both of them lay unconscious.

Caleb's death was bound to be agonizingly painful. The serration of torn iron piercing into several substantial parts of his body. Thirty-three fractured bones, most of those being his entire rib cage. He would ultimately die from a compound fracture that creates a blood faucet right in the side of his head.

Samantha would come out rather advantageous with being paralyzed from the waist down, given the circumstance.

I closed my eyes and did everything in my power to charge through my headache and replay the dream I had. If you had the chance to change someone else's fate, you would, wouldn't you?

Then why did I feel different about this Caleb Greene?

I open my eyes in a haste and reach for my journal. I scribbled down a couple of descriptions and landmarks that I remember from my dream.

From what I remember, he drove a black, run-down ford mustang to school every day. I could tell Samantha was sick of him driving the damn thing by how she always used two fingers to open his passenger door.

I couldn't remember the color of the polo shirt he was wearing which was a huge issue for identification reasons. I couldn't make out the color of Samantha's shirt either, but I knew she'd be wearing some shade of pink from how often she wore it to school.

On the corner of 5th and Main, Caleb's car gets t-boned by an industrial lorry holding crates of fruit from the city over.

I couldn't exactly pin how much of an impact Caleb's death and Sam's disability will have on the school if I'm not able to save them, but I do know that people will talk for a long time.

That's exactly what they did when Amelia Beth Haden was found dead in a ravine last summer while school was out. Everybody got back to school in a rush to talk about her being decapitated and placed at the bottom with a bunch of cement cinderblocks.

----

I wiped away a heavy sheen of sweat from my forehead in a panic. My heart ripped itself out of my chest as soon as I realized.

I fell asleep.

Holy shit.

I fell asleep.

Instantly without a second thought, I booked a taxi over the phone.