It wasn’t just fuel though. There was oil, scorched plastic, and burning rubber. The watch chimed out bringing Nick out of his olfactory glamour. It was 3 AM outside of Happy, Texas.
Nick pulled over. He hadn’t had a vision that strong in years. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel. Ragged breaths came all too rapidly. He tried to remember the training. ‘In through nose, out through mouth.’ It was pretty useless.
Engine running, radio silent, Nick summoned the will to pry himself out of the car. Interstate 27 was clear, but the overwhelming scent of the car wreck wrapped itself around him as he stepped foot on the asphalt. Crumbling, he let the vision come.
The faces of the first responders were grey and fuzzy. Reflective tape was glowing on their vests. Flashing lights strobed out into the darkness. The heat from the burning fire made Nick want to run. The foul taste of fuel, car fluids, and rubber seemed to coat Nick’s tongue.
In an eye-blink, Nick was back on I-27, clear of debris. There was no raging inferno. There was no activity, only him and the old Accord that had been with him for too long. Nick backed away from the car, eyes widening.
“No,” he shook his head as his feet became tied up in each other. The massive noise came from an engine brake from down the straight towards Amarillo. Nick turned, raised his hand to the oncoming headlights. Nick saw the dust rise up from the road as the tanker truck careened rolling onto its side.
The lights were so bright.
The feeling of déjà vu struck Nick as the smell of fuel washed over him...
No comments:
Post a Comment