JD glared at the back of the car in front of him, hoping to take some his anger and frustration out on it. Instead the brake lights blinked merrily at him like eyes as the bumper took on a smug look that bordered on an evil grin. Of course, right when he is sent out to run errands for the guys every person in Denver decides it is time to go for a Sunday drive. On a Wednesday afternoon!
Restraining himself from punching the steering wheel, he changed the station on the truck's radio as the light finally turned green. That was the only good thing about this trip, he got to drive Chris' truck. Of course, if Buck's hadn't been in the shop he'd have been driving it. Instead he had taken his motorcycle to work and let Buck hitch a ride with Josiah. Not that the Suburban was running any better and Ezra had refused to let the Jag go through the disgrace of running errands. Thanks, Ezra, he breathed under his breath, thinking about how that had made him feel. He hated being the errand boy of the team; he didn't need them rubbing it in, no matter how innocently.
He found a rock station that he liked and turned up the volume. It was a song he liked, one that Buck hated. Of course, all that his roommate ever listened to was Jimmy Buffet, which was an obvious indication of how bad his taste was. Checking his mirrors, he expertly slid the Ram into an opening just barely big enough, much to the chagrin of the car behind him. He just smiled, there were definite pluses to learning to drive in New York.
The freeway turned into the interstate as he made his way out of the traffic and took 25 south out of Denver. At least he didn't have to stay in all that traffic, not while heading out to some tiny town to pick up a file. It was strange to think that a sheriff's office didn't have a fax machine. And since Chris needed the file yesterday, someone had to go pick it up. And that someone was JD.
Eventually the interstate turned to a county road as he left the interstate at exit 182 to head east on highway 86, the road two-lane and meandering around as he drove through the mountains. Franktown and Elizabeth flew by as he continued to head east, his mind not really on the road ahead of him. That was why, as he approached the Kiowa city turnoff that he would take south to Elbert, he didn't really notice the semi until it was literally on his tail. Swearing, he quickly realized that its breaks had gone out, leaving the driver barely in control. There was a grade a half-mile ahead, at least according to the sign. But he wasn't sure if it was close enough.
Looking in his rear-view mirror, he tried to gauge how fast the truck was going and speed up to keep ahead of it. The upcoming turn worried him, especially since they would be on the outside of it, but he tried not to let that bother him. Just as the semi began to gain on him more, the driver pulled out into the passing lane, pulling up along side the black Ram. JD hit the brakes, knowing the driver needed to get back into their lane as soon as possible. But it wasn't soon enough, just as the semi was half past him a car came around the curve and the driver was forced to take the lesser of the two evils. JD held on as best he could as the truck was forced off the road and down the incline to the valley below.
+ + + + + + +
JD was certain that if he took the time he could count every bone in his body, all 206 of them. Even the three in each ear, especially the three in each ear, he thought as he tried to sit up. He could smell the bitter acrid of burning rubber and struggled against the hands holding him down to see the wreck of his boss' truck.
"Chris is going to kill me," he muttered as he could finally get his eyelids to respond to the command to open.
"Now I don't see as to why I should let him, 'specially since I went to all the trouble a pullin' you out." A vaguely familiar voice spoke from just beyond his peripheral vision.
Craning his neck against the pulling muscles, he strained to catch a glimpse of the person who had saved his life. Instead all he saw was black, black pants, black shirt and a black horse standing under a nearby tree not far from the burning, black truck. He giggled in spite of himself, the visual image just too much for his muddled brain. Finally a black cowboy hat situated firmly on a blond head leaned over him.
"You ain't going loco on me are ya?" The familiar voice combined this time with a familiar face to spark a distant memory of JD's. Grasping at it, he gasped.
"Chris?"
"Well, you're right and wrong." The black hat covered head tipped as the man introduced himself. "Name's Chris, but I don't think I'm the one you're askin' for."
JD scrunched his brow up in concentration as he tried to process that thought. But, like the other ever-elusive thoughts that were flitting through his cob-webby mind, it was eventually far beyond his grasp. Letting it go, with a slight moan at the pain in his head as well as every where else, he looked back at the burning truck. Or, rather, at the flaming shell of what used to be Chris' Ram.
"You did good, kid," he turned back to the stranger named Chris who continued to speak. "I saw what happened. There was nothing you could have done.
"There was a family in that other car. They would have been killed instantly in a head-on crash. You were already slowing down to let the driver pass. No don't worry, he was calling for help before he got stopped up that ramp.
"Ya know, kid. You remind me of a young man I once knew. Over eager, wet-behind-the-ears, snot-nosed kid. But he was a good kid. Took a job no one else wanted an' became sheriff of these parts." JD briefly wondered if that was the sheriff that he was supposed to meet as this Chris continued.
"We were all hard on him. He was too young, it was too dangerous for him to be out here. Not that he listened to us. He was bound and determined to prove himself to us. And he did. We just never let him know.
"Ya see, we were trying to protect him. So we never mentioned that he did us proud. Constantly corrected him when he messed up. When he started out, hell, he got no respect. Not really. The townsfolk just tolerated him 'cause the rest of us were there. But he save all our lives on different occasions." A rough hand pushed JD's long hair off his face. "And he gained their respect not because he ran with us, but because he was a good man.
"But we never told him. And that will haunt me for the rest of my days. Ya see, he thought he needed to prove himself to us. So he kept rushing off without thinking. And one day, he rushed off into a trap. Nate could never figure out how he survived to make it back to town, barely hanging on to his horse. But he did, and he warned us of the danger coming.
"He saved out lives, and the whole town. But he didn't survive the day to learn that. No, he sacrificed himself, and he never got to know that he did us proud."
As the stranger finished his monologue, JD could hear the sirens of the emergency vehicles in the background. Hands gently lifted his head off of the lap that had been cradling him. The face of Chris, that wasn't Chris, looked down at him again. "I gotta go now, kid. They'll be here for you soon. Don't worry, you'll make it just fine. And you tell your Chris that if he tries to kill ya, he'll have to answer to me."
The stranger climbed onto the black horse and slowly rode away through the surrounding trees as a crew of four people made their way down the embankment. A rather portly man, who made it down quickly for his size, reached JD first.
"My god, you're just a kid. I am so sorry..." The truck driver was gently pushed out of the way by the emergency crew as they stabilized him. As they worked they asked him questions to keep him alert, a more and more difficult task.
"How'd you get out of the truck?" Was the last question that JD could fully comprehend, though his answer left the others wondering.
"Chris saved me..."
+ + + + + + +
Chris glared at the telephone as it rang. The kid better have a good explanation for this, was a thought that crossed his mind. He was supposed to have returned two hours ago. Only JD could turn a milk run into a minor catastrophe.
"Larabee."
"Mr. Larabee, this is the Elbert County Sheriff's department. Are you the owner of a black 4-door Dodge Ram 2500, diesel."
"Yes," every agent in the room looked up at him, the tension thicker than the Josiah's secret recipe chili. "What happened?"
"I'm afraid that I have bad news. Your truck was forced off the road by a semi that lost its breaks. The good news is that the young man driving it survived the crash. The bad news is that your truck didn't." Chris wiped his hand down his face, wondering just how JD always managed to find trouble, or how trouble always managed to find JD. "Is he alright? Where's he at?"
Those words had all five of his remaining men mobilized. Nathan pulling out a file that held JD's medical records, while the rest of them grabbed their coats. He could vaguely hear Nathan volunteer to drive, since the Explorer could fit all of them and was in better shape than the Suburban, as the sheriff continued.
"He's a very lucky young man, though he keeps asking for the man who pulled him out of the wreckage. He's in enough shock that he doesn't realize that he had to have gotten out himself. There was no one else there when the paramedics arrived. He saved a whole family, you know. The semi was trying to pass him when they came around a curve. Woulda hit them dead on if your young man hadn't gone over the edge. Shook up the truck driver pretty good, he's sittin' in with him now.
"He's just here at our county hospital. Doc's say it's just a concussion. And a few bumps and bruises, of course. He'll tell you more when you get here."
"We're on our way," He barely had time to hang up the phone as he was following his men out the door.
The Elbert County hospital was situated in the metropolis of Elbert. A city of all of 402 people. The hospital was in an old apartment that had been closed, the one doctor's position provided for by a grant from a wealthy former resident. The small town had never before been subjected to the Seven when one of their own had been injured, making this an event to go down in the history books. The bewildered doctor's head was spinning, the makeshift emergency room in a frenzy within moments of the spectacular entrance of the six worried men. Vin and Josiah went to restrain Chris and Buck as they began to grill the nearest nurse on where their youngest was. Nathan was picking the doctor's brain, with an examination that made his boards seem easy. And Ezra was at the desk, already beginning to make the arrangements for JD to be released.
Finally it was the sheriff who brought the pandemonium under control with a roar. As everyone settled into silence they could hear a slightly giddy, giggly voice from behind one of the curtains.
"Did'ja ever hear the one about the chess enthusiasts? They had checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse.
"'But why?' they asked, as they moved off.
"'Because,' he said, 'I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer.'" The voice, which was remarkable familiar, dissipated into a frenzied laugh as six voices in the ER groaned in unison.
"Did'ja ever hear the one Gandhi?" JD continued as the truck driver, who was one of the few people who enjoyed his humor, laughed and shook his head.
"Well, ya know how he walked barefoot all the time, should seen his calluses. And ya know he was so thin, because he barely ate, making him really frail and have bad breath. Well," he took a big breath, "that made him a super callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis."
"You know," Josiah said to the others as they made their way to where JD was. "That was almost good."
"Rather impressive that he got it out," one of the nurses said as she passed them. "Considering how, umm, loopy he is."
"Hey guys," JD perked up as he saw them. "Just a sec."
Turning back to the trucker he asked on last question. "Did'ja ever hear the one about the three -legged dog?"
His voice was drowned out by six others groaning out loud, "JD..."
+ + + + + + +
Most of the drugs had worn off JD by the time they had returned to his and Buck's place. He really couldn't remember much about his stay at the hospital, and from the looks he was getting from the others, he didn't want to ask.
Looking back a week later, there was one thing he did remember clearly. And that was the man in all black that looked like Chris who had waited with him until the paramedics got there. Both the trucker and the paramedics swore that there had been no one there when they got there. The both said that he must have gotten out of the truck on his own, that his brain had just dreamed up what had happened. The doctor even said that was not uncommon in traumatic situations. But JD knew the truth.
And, as he looked at the county record in front of him, about a small, now dead, town that was once in Elbert county, he couldn't help but wonder about one thing. Are there really such things as ghosts? Returning the picture of seven men to the vertical file it had come from, he reverently put his copy in a folder. He wouldn't share it with the others. They already thought he was crazy as it was, saying that someone else had pulled him out. No, it was better to just let sleeping ghosts like. As he closed the folder he missed the tall blond wearing a black hat, black pants and a black shirt tip his hat at him. Nor did he hear the ghostly voice.
"Ya did good, kid."
The End
