GENRE: Commercial Fiction
Jimmy Rickliefs idea of a good time did not include sitting in his wife’s car with his head in a trashcan. Waking up with unbearable stomach pain at three in the morning also did not qualify. But lucky for him, his wife was levelheaded; he’d had this pain before and this time, she was doing something about it. Now, gritting his teeth against the never-ending waves of pain, he barely noticed the houses zipping past as his wife headed for the hospital.
Allison stopped the car at a light, and he heard her ragged intake of breath. Being levelheaded didn’t mean she couldn’t be scared. He reached for her hand, as much in need of comfort as she was. Her hand was shaking slightly, and he squeezed it in time to another wave of pain, relieved when she proceeded into the intersection. As a particularly violent spasm raked his back, there was a flash of light, and Jimmy felt as if he were being crushed.
Ryan Vasser was driving down Third Street when he saw a truck barreling towards the intersection in front of him. He slowed down, hoping that the car crossing third would get out of the way in time; he knew before it happened that it was too late. The truck plowed into the car and almost rolled it. Ryan got out of his car, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“This is Ryan Vasser, I’m at the intersection of third and Main and there’s been an accident.”