The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2) Read Free Page B

just five doors down from the love of my life.
    I’m driving down the road in my pickup truck. Icy, cold winds gush through the open windows. I don’t understand why the windows are down. When I push the button to roll them up, nothing happens. They’re gone. Looking down, I notice shards of glass blanketing the floorboard beneath my feet. The windows have been broken out. Thank God Peyton is wearing my heavy thermal jacket, because it is bitterly cold. Not just the kind that can be fixed with a cup of hot chocolate, but the kind that bites the skin and makes one’s eyes water. Peyton is snuggled in close to my side, shivering as we drive as fast as we can through the winding canyon. Four wheel drive is limiting my speed. I can’t remember why I feel such an urgency to return to the cabin so quickly, but something is telling me to push this truck to its limit. The snow is coming down in strong gusts, and my windshield wipers are on full blast, trying to clear the muddy, snowy streaks from obscuring my vision. Off in the distance, the color red, zig-zags down the mountainside. It’s weaving in and out between a cluster of tall cedars. It looks like it could be a truck making its way down to the road. Checking my rearview mirror to see my dad’s truck carrying Brody, Kaitlyn, and the rest of the gang, I have to chuckle at the massive pile of Christmas trees in the back. They’re blanketing the cab and hanging down over the front, slightly covering the windshield. I gently pump my brakes, trying to get Brody’s attention. He should be aware that there could be another vehicle headed our way. It’s a pretty narrow road, and the driving conditions are even more treacherous with the slick snow and ice. I continue to look back in the rearview mirror, trying to get their attention.
    That’s when I hear her scream. Adrenaline bursts through my body when Peyton shrieks, “Caden, watch out!” I pull my eyes back to the road to see that not only has the red truck made its way off the mountain, but it’s coming straight for us. The driver behind the wheel seems to be waving his arm wildly. He’s coming at us in a quick blur. Slamming on my brakes to avoid the impending collision, I lose control and begin to fishtail toward the embankment. As hard as I swing the steering wheel back and forth, I can’t straighten it out. Simultaneously, several loud bangs ring through the canyon. They sound like gunshots! I can’t tell where they’re coming from. Is the driver waving his hand, or is that a gun? It all happens so fast. I hear the clanking of metal and feel the force of the impact. There’s a loud pop, and the rolling begins. I pull Peyton in close with one arm, and hold onto the steering wheel with the other, ducking, spinning, rolling, crunching. Cold. Water. Heaviness.
    “Caden, wake up. I think you’re having that nightmare again.”
    I feel the gentle pressure of a wet washcloth streak across my forehead. As with every time I’ve had this dream for the last three days, I work with much effort to pry my eyes open. When my body finally allows me to peek through my heavy lids, I see Jenna standing over me.
    “Hey Caden, sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t handle watching you for one more minute. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”
    Looking at Jenna, I take a deep breath, slowly releasing it as I swallow the freshly formed lump in my throat.
    “The pain? I’m okay. I just took a pill.”
    “No, the nightmare. It’s hard to watch my best friend go to battle every time he sleeps.” Jenna’s response is quiet and somber. She gently sits down on the edge of my bed. I cringe in pain, as it dips beneath me.
    Jenna winces, “Sorry ‘bout that.” She scoots a little further from me, helping to relieve the dip that’s pulling my weight onto my arm. “I understand your fear of going to sleep. Every night since the accident, I’ve fought to stay awake because I know I’m about to relive the worst day of my life.”