Fallen Read online

After all my classes are done for the day I head home to relax for a little bit.  I am about halfway home, listening to my favorite country station, and spacing off like I typically do when I drive the same six mile trip each day.  In my rear view mirror I see flashing lights but it is not a cop.  It is too far away to see what it is, but I can tell it’s big. It’s as big as my truck, maybe bigger.  In the distance it looks black, very wide, and tall.  As it gets a little closer I can make out its shape.  It is an Iowa National Guard truck, a giant military vehicle that is camouflaged and has an arched ragtop over the bed.  It is just like the ones you see in movies.  I know we have a National Guard base in the nearest town but I’ve never seen one on the road except for the 4th of July parade we have every year when they typically move much slower. 

  I run scenarios through my head trying to figure out why it’s out on the highway and where it’s going. The hazard lights and headlights flashing, and most importantly, it’s going incredibly fast. As the vehicle approaches, I notice it is not the only one.  There are multiple trucks. I know I need to pull over to get out of the way, but the shoulders on this highway are very narrow, not more than 12 to 18 inches.  

  The truck comes right up to my bumper and starts honking its horn. It’s hard to get a clear look at the driver, but he looks panicked in my mirror.  The highway is mostly a no passing zone and I can only pull off at the next gravel road. I can’t imagine what the hell can be so important that he needs around me this badly. I speed up.  Since I can’t pull over far enough to let them go around, I will do what I can to get out of the way.  My truck is new and it is a V8. I’ve always wanted a good excuse to see what Venom can do.  I can outrun these giant military vehicles.  

  I press the accelerator. The transmission downshifts, the engine roars, the tachometer approaches red, and I feel the strength of the wind coming through the cab of my truck.  The force presses me back into my seat.  I pull away from them like I expected but not for long.  They speed up as well and before I know, it they are on my tail again.  How can a vehicle that large keep up with a pickup that is only two years old?  

  There is only one curve from here to my driveway.  It is not a sharp turn; it is a long, banked curve that can be taken at 60 miles per hour or more.  As I reach the corner I am driving well over 100 and the trucks are still right behind me.  Less than a mile after the curve is my driveway. It is on the left from this direction.  I hope there is no oncoming traffic.  My plan is to go into the left lane to let them pass without slowing them down or possibly being rear ended from slowing in their path.   

  As I get closer I see a car coming toward me.  I can beat it to my driveway.  My palms sweat, my heart pounds, and I want this to be over! I swerve into the left lane and stomp on my brakes.  The oncoming car flashes its headlights and honks its horn.  It feels like time slows down.  I can see clearly.  I have heard about things like this. Occasionally in extreme panic situations it feels like you are in slow motion so you can calculate your best option.  I see the trucks going by me on the right, the car coming straight at me. I hear my tires screaming the pain they feel against the blacktop.  I taste the gum in my mouth I used to cover my breath right after lunch.  I smell the fresh cut alfalfa from the field my driveway runs through.  I know by hitting the brakes to the point of sliding, it takes my ability to steer.  

  I am aware of how I am positioned physically.  My hands are at ten and two on the steering wheel, my left foot presses as hard on the floorboard as my right does on the brake pedal.  I know what to do.  I know what will happen as I get to the gravel drive.  My truck will want to go straight on the gravel instead of turning like I want it, which would put me at an awkward angle straight at the light pole and a group of trees in the ditch.  I will need to react immediately upon switching from blacktop to gravel.  As I make the turn I slide directly at the pole as I predicted.  Stopping is not an option, I need a contingency plan, and I know what it is going to be. 

  I have prepared for things similar to this by purposely sliding my vehicles on ice to know how to react and the limits of the vehicle. I need to accelerate to launch the truck forward past the pole.  There is nothing behind it but an open alfalfa field, nothing to hit, nothing to worry about besides coming to a stop.  That is exactly what I do.  The trucks pass. The oncoming car has smoke coming off of the tires just like mine. I crank the wheel to the left and gun it.  I turn the corner, the truck start to slide on the gravel as I predicted. I counter steer to keep control.  I make it into the drive but still have momentum.  I am clear of the trees and light pole so I slam the brakes and slide to a stop. 

  When the smoke clears, literally, the trucks have gone past, the driver of the car is yelling profanities out his passenger window, and I have come to a complete stop in the field.  That was strange. I try to relax by taking deep breaths and laying my head back on the headrest of my seat. I run through so many "why" questions in my head, almost expecting my brain to produce an answer that it does not have.  I need to get to the house and check the local news or internet so see if there is something going on.  

          I walk to the house after parking my truck.  I first hear, and then see police cars pass.  They are not going the same way as the National Guard trucks. I can only see through a small opening in the trees that stand tall on both sides of the creek running through the property. They are moving so fast I can’t count them, there are at least five, at most, nine or ten.  

  When I get in the house it is quiet. The windows are still open and the ceiling fans are on. It is not usually this warm in October in southern Iowa.  You would never hear me complain about it though, it has snowed this early in recent years. 

  I grab the remote for the TV and hit the power button.  I am not sure if it is still acting up like this morning so I walk to my get my laptop off of the kitchen counter.  If I cannot find anything on TV, I can look it up online.  I sit on the couch and power up my laptop.  The TV is a solid black screen except in the center of the screen is a grey/blue box.  In the box it says "No satellite signal." Well this sucks. If the satellite is out, there is no TV or internet.  When it comes to rural Iowa and the perks of living here: ultra-low crime rate, good educational systems, and peace and quiet... Satellite internet is not one of them. 

  Times like this I wish I had a smart phone.  I asked for one for my birthday.  I text my step mom to see if she knows anything.  She is still at work and she will have internet access to know what is going on. 

  My text reads, "Hey can you check the news and see wtf is going on around here?"

  I get a reply that says "?"

  I type back, "I was almost run off the road by military trucks then saw a bunch of cops going the way they just came!"

  "OMG R U OK?" she sends.

  I respond "yeah I’m fine, have you seen anything weird on the news?" 

  A minute later I get a text from her that says, "I have been in training this afternoon. Can you water my orchid? I forgot."

  "Sure, I am going to lay down quick, if you find something let me know." I reply knowing good and well I will not remember to water her plant.

  I sit on the couch for a second. I think about what I just went through. My curiosity has the best of me, but right now, I want a nap.