Last Drive

Emily loathed inventory night more than anything else in the world. Staying late, verifying counts, rerunning numbers, rechecking physical stock, basically redoing everything long after the auditors left just to submit the same paperwork three times before she was free to go home was particularly tedious. It was late October, by the time leaving the store was possible, it would be extremely late. It was going to be well after dark, dinner would be wrapped in plastic and cold in the fridge, the kids would already be in bed sleeping, and she would be too tired to reheat dinner, take a bath, or even read a few lines in her book. Most likely, she knew she would just fall asleep on the couch with an unopened protein drink in one hand and cell phone in the other still in her work clothes. Unenthusiastically she checked the latest spreadsheet, highlighted a few debatable numbers, and disappeared into the stock room for the hundredth time this evening.

It was nearly 11:30PM when she submitted the last of the recounts, saved the work, printed it out in triplicate, collated, stapled, and dropped the reports into her team's mailboxes. Biding a few overnight co-workers good-bye in the break room, she pulled on her jacket, grabbed her purse, and left the building. Looking up into the parking lot lights, she could see the rain coming down rather quickly. The large puddle that always formed to the right of the door when it rained was rippling rapidly from falling raindrops. Late-night shoppers were jogging in under umbrellas or hoodies flipped up to avoid getting wet. Sighing mournfully, she recalled her umbrella was on the passenger seat of her car and wasn't going to do her any bit of good now.

Keeping a brisk pace, she walked out to her car, feeling the cold rain dripping down the back of her head. It made her skin crawl, and she shuddered a bit. It was too cold for her, and she knew that by morning it could very well be ice if the temperature plummeted any more. Swearing lightly to herself while fumbling with the remote, she finally opened the door and slide into the front seat. Her feet reminded her how much they ached as she sat. Groaning, Emily looked next to herself and glared ruefully at the dry umbrella.

"I just want to see my kids," she whispered while starting the engine. A blast of loud music filled the car, and she gripped the steering wheel, startled. Already annoyed by the exhaustion and rain, she did not want the extra noise. Immediately, she turned off the radio. Putting the car into gear, rolled carefully from the parking spot, and finally sped off the lot onto the main road and off to home. She consoled herself, knowing that traffic was sparse this time of night, even for a city.

The agreeable part about living one town over was that the drive, during the day, was full of gorgeous scenery, mountains dotted with snowcaps, stretches of green pine, a road that curved and moved with the landscape along a winding river. During the night, however, it was dark with no lights but that of other cars, stars, and the moon. Not to mention, it was full of animals that didn't understand the concept of cars, trucks, or SUV's. Undoubtedly, it could be hazardous and, so, Emily tried to pay attention to the sides of the road.

Escaping the city lights, the rain was coming down harder, and her windshield wipers were flying along. The patter of the rain on the roof was soothing her jangled nerves, the kind of night she like sleeping on. Slowing a little as she approached a curve that tended to be a little slick in the rain, a large buck wandered into the road.

"Shit!" Emily hit her brakes and horn, hoping to startle it away. The buck began to back peddle, but the car had already lost traction and was skidding sideways. Bouncing off the guard rail, the car screeched over the wet road and hit a large pine tree on the other side of the ditch. Emily was jostled around hard, her head ricocheted off the steering wheel and driver window, shattering it before the airbags finally deployed. It was quick, there was no time for her to think, and she lost consciousness. The buck bounded away safely on the other side of the road, tail flashing.