I drove along the freeway at a rate of speed I won’t admit. I always had a lead foot and today was no different, especially in the steel-toe boots I wore to work. Jamming down the 55, windows rolled down, stereo on; I was in another world. I rocked out to the music, screaming out lyrics as the wind whipped them away, down the freeway, to haunt other people's ears.

I checked my rear view mirror and switched lanes, the change of hand position made the wheel hot on my palms. This is why California is expensive; The cool breeze, the hot sun, the blue sky beckoning me toward the ocean.

As I reached for the pack of cigarettes next to me a squeal of tires ripped into my consciousness, over the thudding of my car's bass. I looked up and watched a truck swerve sharply to the right.

My foot became air, my car groaning in relief as the massive vehicle, its red frame a blur, transversed my lane almost clipping my car. I hiccupped a scream of shock and continued to watch it.

I remembered seeing the blue mini-van pull forward ahead of me, and though I'm not religious I thought, "The finger of God..."

An eruption of metal and plastic blossomed like a bizarre flower over the lanes. The freeway lit up with the refracted rain of the American Flag; blue, red and white.

I looked over my shoulder and quickly, carefully pulled to the shoulder. My body worked without me as I radioed in the accident. My footfalls were heavy for my normally lithe gate. I made my way to the accident as fast as my rubber knees could spring me.

A curl of smoke beckoned my heart faster. With a shaky voice I screamed.

"Can anyone hear me?"

A cough, two.

"Anyone?"

An enraged motorist hurled past me as I twisted around the wreckage, mere inches from the hood of his 70MPH weapon. I told myself not to be afraid, but in my gut I knew that things were beyond repair.

I noted the contents of the truck as I passed its flat bed; Sheet metal. I followed the path of debris and sucked in a hiss of breath. Like a strange twisted voodoo doll, metal pierced the minivan, marking it at odd angles.

I ran forward and pleaded with whatever God there was to not do this… not today.

A small voice haunted me and I turned. “Please, help.” The petite woman stumbled up to me dripping blood, her ungainly hands reaching for me. I grabbed her protectively and placed a hand over her jagged facial laceration. She cried out, “Oh my God! The children, please, my children!”

“Ma’am… where are they? Which vehicle were you driving?”

She fell mute and I stared over my shoulder at the van, its innards twisted along the road. Its shell barbed by sheet metal; a broken grin of jagged teeth. She cried in my arms and I released her. “I’ll check.” I took her hand, “Keep this here.” I covered the wound with her fingers, blood pumping from the cut over my boots.

I moved forward toward the wreckage and hopped up onto the broken hood of the truck. I glanced over, the driver’s neck unnatural and awkward. His face was lifeless and hung like a tetherball on a string.

Back to the van I kicked a few shards of the driver side window away and stooped down. A fire engine wailed in the distance. My hands were shaking as I pulled myself into the vehicle, stupidly thinking I could do something more from inside, instead of outside. I sliced my arm on the metal jutting out toward me, razor sharp, haunting.

Beneath it in the back seat, a baby carrier sat innocently. A chubby little foot protruded past the plastic restraint. Perhaps the metal had shot right over the babies head, though I knew it seemed too low. I reached for the baby and strained against my awkward position. I grunted and looked down.

Amid errant glass and children's toys a perfect little cooing face stared up at me, with a pool of red at its throat.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...