Chasing Cars

Chapter Twenty Six

  "What?" I whispered, looking up from my phone and staring, probably creepily, at Evan. He nodded slowly, taking my phone out of my hand and putting it on the coffee table. "When did you hear about that?" I asked. For the past few hours, I'd been telling myself he was still alive, but even so, the doubt was always there. It remained even after Evan's news. "Right before you called me. My parents had the news on and I heard them mention it. I called Krystine to let her know, then you called. I assumed you knew," Evan explained.

Grabbing my phone again, I opened the police reports for our city and scrolled to the newest reports, where there was mention of the fire. At the very top of one report, it was titled "Fire Casualty Actually Alive." The title needed some work, but it gave me the information I needed. Opening the report, I began reading.

After a fire raged through the main office of Rosewood High School, five bodies were uncovered three days after the fire was put out. EMTs and multiple police officers spent hours on each individual body in attempt to learn their identities. Some wounds were worse than others, but at the end of the investigation, all five casualties were identified. Patricia Charleston, Nathan Field, Nathan Darkberry, Richard (Ricky) Underwood, and Andrew Daniels. But there was a surprise while the bodies were being prepared for evacuation from the scene. As if things couldn't be more dramatic here in Rosewood, while the bodies were being carried off, one of the victims was found to be alive. Andrew Daniels was transferred to the hospital's intensive care unit and deemed a coma patient. It took over three hours of intense medications and attempts at getting air into his body, and though things are looking grim for the only survivor, we hope everyone will be hoping and praying for him.

"He is alive," I said when I'd finished reading. Evan only nodded. He was in a coma, but it was something. Comas are better than death. There was so much going on in my head after I'd finished reading the report. All along, I'd been telling myself that he wasn't dead, and I was right. Everyone thought he was, but he wasn't. I knew it.

"How did you know?" Evan had asked right before leaving later in the evening. "How did I know what?" I replied. "When I first got here, you said he wasn't dead, before you even knew for sure. How did you know that?" His question was surprising, as I didn't think he'd remember anything we talked about, but apparently he did. "Oh," I said, unsure of what to say. I didn't want to sound crazy, even if I was. "I just had a feeling. Like he wasn't really gone. When I found out my dad died I could feel the loss, not that I even really care if he's gone or not. But I didn't with Andrew. The feelings just wasn't there," I explained carefully, satisfied with my answer.

"Oh, okay," Evan nodded before saying good-bye and leaving my house. It was late, probably around nine thirty or so. But I wasn't ready to just turn in for the night and act like nothing happened. There was too much to think about. Since I was completely caught up on what was happening, it was about time for me to reschedule my surgery. But how could I possibly schedule my death again without seeing my friend? He wasn't dead anymore.

Pushing that thought to another part of my brain, I returned to my couch and sat on it. My camera roll had seven hundred and eighty three pictures to go through, and I thought that would be the perfect way to clear my mind until I had something productive to do. Being completely alone with nothing but my thoughts and Gertrude wasn't appealing at the time. Opening my photo memories, I didn't bother with starting at the most recent pictures and working my way down, instead I just chose random pictures to view. It added a little surprise to my task.

The first picture I opened was one of Krystine, Cam, and I at the retreat. The three of us looked at the camera with sparkling eyes and bright smiles. Every time we were at a retreat, we recreate the exact same picture, as we've done since we met. It was a tradition, and every year the photo got a little better. I still have all the ones from previous camps on the back of my bedroom door. This picture was just a little different though, because it was the only one where I was in a wheelchair rather than standing in the middle of my two friends. Our typical pose was just us with our arms around each other's shoulders, but in this one we just made heart shapes with our hands. It was a good picture.