Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains) Read Free Page B

he drove by, a
clerk put up a handwritten sign that read, “No out of town checks.”
    Caden
continued south on the state highway out of town. Traffic had been heavy, but
as the sun rose towards its zenith, the northbound volume appeared less. Still,
cars full of adults, children, dogs, cats and suitcases zoomed past in the
opposite lane. There were mini-vans and SUVs filled with boxes, their luggage racks
full and pulling trailers. He marveled at the number of RVs heading north in
the dead of winter. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Where are they all going?
    A man
walking north with a gas can prompted Caden to look down at his dashboard. His
tank was three quarters full and he was going sixty. Speeding for the first
time since the attack.
    Starting
into a turn, he looked up. Smoke and fire billowed just ahead. He slammed on
the brakes. Caden gripped the wheel as the car slid.
    Mere
inches from the edge of the flame, his vehicle stopped. He could feel the heat.
Caden looked over his shoulder and backed away and off to the side a safe
distance. Cars continued past using the shoulder to slip by the accident
one-by-one. That’s why northbound traffic seemed lighter.
    He
yanked the door open and jumped from the car. The smell of burning oil, gas and
flesh thrust memories from dark corners of his mind, but with it came instinct
and training. He pushed the memories aside and assessed the situation. There
were no bodies or injured on the pavement. A pickup truck was engulfed in
flame. In it he saw one body, blackened and burned beyond hope of life. Were
there any passengers? Flames swirled around the truck. They had either fled
or were dead. But this is at least a two car accident. He climbed up the
slope to view the other car. From this vantage point he surveyed the accident.
Apparently, a northbound SUV had passed in the curve and hit the pickup. The
front of the SUV was also on fire. If anyone was in the back of that car they
were dead from heat and smoke. But there was a third car, a two-door compact.
Flames were just feet away but it was not on fire—yet.
    Cars
slipped by going north and south using the wide shoulder. Occasionally, one
stopped. He could see some people trying to use their cell phones. He doubted
if they were able to contact emergency services.
    A car
stopped. The driver yelled, “Are there any injured?”
    He
looked over the scene once again. He shook his head and mumbled, “All dead.”
Then louder, “I don’t think there is anything we can do.”
    The
man nodded and then drove on.
    Caden
wanted to continue his journey, but hesitated. It felt wrong to leave so
quickly. He reached into his pocket for his new cell phone. He would at least
attempt to report the accident.
    Something
moved in the third car. He stepped forward struggling to peer through the
smoke. A woman struggled to sit up in the vehicle. She held her head.
    “ Are
you okay?” Caden took tentative steps down the slope, into the smoke and heat.
    She
was an older, gray-haired, woman. She looked at him with dazed eyes.
    “ I’ll
be right there.”
    She
opened the car door and fell hard to the pavement.
    Instinctively
he dialed 911 and was surprised when he got through. He described the situation
as he reached the woman. Quickly he pulled her upwind out of the smoke and
heat.
    “ What
is your location?”
    “ Where
am I?” He looked around in panic. Several cars stopped, but no one was close
enough to ask. A rusted pickup truck heading north pulled into the southbound
lane and stopped. A large lumberjack of a man stepped out.
    Still
holding the phone to his ear, Caden shouted, “Where are we?”
    “ Just
north of Beckley on Highway 19,” the big man said.
    Caden
repeated the words then cushioned the woman’s head.
    “ Is
she alive?”
    Moving
his fingers along the side of her neck he said, “She was a bit ago.” Caden
found a weak pulse. A black and blue lump marked her forehead and blood matted
the right side of her head where she