I wasn’t sure if the world had been completely dark for minutes, seconds or hours when I opened my eyes to see a cloud of smoke billowing up against the backdrop of the rising sun that was cresting the desert horizon. My eyes followed the trail of smoke down to the twisted carnage of a burning heap of metal that was broadcasting waves of heat and a sickening acrid smell out into the fresh morning air.

It was hard to make out with how horribly burnt the wreckage was, but it appeared that the two robin’s egg blue semis that belonged to Don and Darla were the twisted metal campfires that were making the world smell what I imagined meth smelled like and casting a shadow of black smoke upon the lonely desert.

My initial instinct was to take off in any direction away from the wreckage, but the extent of the carnage made me pretty sure that our assailants were helpless and/or gone, but just to be safe, I extended up onto my feet, ready for action and felt a rash of crippling pain wash over my body. I fell right back to a crumpled heap, looking like a human version of the burning semi trucks. Battered, bloodied, broken and road rashed all over my entire body, I laid there sobbing, not caring if the charred ghost of Don or Darla crawled over and snuffed me out. The last thing I could remember truly seeing was Kyle’s neck bone being hacked into while drowning in the darkest blood that I had ever seen. I didn’t give a fuck anymore, I just laid there on the yellow median of the road as the sun started to shine on me and break the cold of the morning air.

The sound of boots on the ground rustled me from my near slumber. I opened my eyes to see scuffed, black work boots staring at me as they rested upon the asphalt.

“Oh my God,” a friendly male voice radiated from above me.

I scratched at my ears and ripped away the clumps of dried blood and the music of the world trickled into my ears with much more clarity.

“Let’s get you out of here,” the male voice went on.