Post by Evergreen on Feb 8, 2009 21:55:18 GMT -5
The squeal of tires on wet pavements went unheard by the stoic scenery, the echoes of wrenching steel against steel ricocheting off the mountains. It was a car crash, miles into the heartland of Canada’s wilderness. The two vehicles had collided hard enough to rip the small car in two, the truck only smashing its front end in further than it was meant to. There was a deadly stillness to the air, a silence brought about by the rendering of sound before.
Blearily a middle aged man kicked open his crunched door, spilling out of the truck and to the ground. Getting to his feet dazedly he went around the other side, to check on his son. The passenger side was smashed in just as badly as the drivers side was, fortunately his adrenaline was still pumping, and he managed to tug the door open. His son’s legs were trapped in by the dashboard, and he feared moving him would make it worse.
Touching the boy’s throat and realizing he wasn’t breathing. Rummaging with shaky hands through his sons jacket he pulled out a cell phone. Flipping it open and thumbing out 9-1-1 as he stood there, unaware he was trembling. His own injuries bled out into the rain slicked highway, the drizzle still coming down watering it down. The phone was still ringing and he almost threw the phone out of desperation, but then a voice came on through slight static. “This is 911 Emergency Response, what’s happened?”
“An accident, please God, my son, he’s not breathing.”
“Try to stay calm, I need you to stay on the line, where are you?”
The person on the end of the line was irritatingly calm, and he couldn’t help but yell, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know!” There had been signs they’d passed, but now he couldn’t remember any of them. If only he had, it would be easier for them he knew, but his mind wasn’t thinking rationally at the moment.
“Just hang in there sir, we’re tracing your call, help’s on the way.”
On the way, “How long?”
“They’ve just left now sir, stay calm, talk to me. Is there anyone else involved?”
Involved…? The other car! Startled he whipped around too fast and nearly ended up on the ground. Staggering faintly his eyes lit on the car, his face paling. The small BMW old fashioned bug was in two pieces. Or rather, three. The front was in the middle of the second lane, the seats were down the highway a bit, and the back end was dangling halfway through the guardrail. Glass and metal littered the ground everywhere, and he wondered briefly if there could have been a survivor at all.
Then he spotted a figure, covered in glass and apparently still breathing from what he could see. There didn’t appear to be another person, but then again if there was he could have gone with the back end of the car, and perhaps fell down into the ditch. The thought made his stomach whirl and he nearly retched. “Y-yeah, there is, breathing but bad.” That was the only way he knew how to put it, the guys position looked worse off than his sons…but who knew. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t even thought of the other driver.
“Alright, the helicopters will be there any minute.” And true to her word the sound of helicopters started echoing about the mountains, and soon to white dots showed up. The closer they got the more you could see. Shielding his eyes and hunching more against the truck saved him from falling over as the copters landed on the road, the paramedics rushing out immediately. It was a team of twelve, four coming to him and his son, and the others doing a preliminary search of the area.
“We have another down here!” A woman shouted, and a head looked up from the man on the ground, an audible ‘Jesus H Christ’ spilling from his mouth. The woman had scurried over the guardrail and down into the ditch, as another paramedic ran over to help.
“Nevermind!” She shouted up at him, “She’s DOA.” She looked mildly green, and had actually turned away from the body, a hand over her mouth. Whatever had happened to the other crash victim wasn’t something he wanted to see.
“How the hell is this guy breathing??” The guy who’d swore earlier was helping lift the other man on a stretcher, to get him onto the copter.
“Doesn’t matter, just keep him breathing.”
The two paramedics had managed to free his sons legs, and get him onto a stretcher. The two trying to get him to move were finally able to, and he managed to croak out, “Is he gonna be okay?” The look the paramedics shot each other was not at all reassuring. Nor was the ‘We’ll do our best’ they told him. Groaning he let himself be put on a helicopter, eyes watching as the first one took off. Once in the helicopter they waited a moment, as the second man was brought in. His body strapped down to a stretcher, despite the…severity of the injuries. A few moments later and he had black out, the loss of blood, and his loss of adrenaline, had finally taken its toll.
Slowly his eyes came open, grey orbs staring up at the ceiling of the hospital before sliding around the room. There was a doctor there who stopped him from getting up. “You’ve been a bad car accident, Mr. Thibault…I…I’m sorry to inform you that your son didn’t survive…once your able to be up we’ll let you see him…” Tears burned at his eyes, his son hadn’t made it? Why..? He’d been…he was…the doctor had kept talking, about his injuries. He hadn’t been listening.
What he did pick up startled him. “After your fully recovered you’ll be arrested for reckless behavior, driving to endanger, and three charges of vehicular manslaughter…” Both of his eyes went wide, vehicular manslaughter…three charges…? Three…oh…his son, and the two strangers he’d hit. “None of them made it?” He croaked, throat dry, constricted, and on the verge of sobs. He had killed two people, and his son.
“I…I’m afraid not.” The doctor rested a hand on the mans arm, “I’m sorry.” Quietly the doctor got up to leave the man alone. Blank eyes stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down into his bandages. And quietly, life moved on. After leaving the hospital, Gustav Thibault spent the next fifteen years in prison. When he left, he simply disappeared from the world.
Blearily a middle aged man kicked open his crunched door, spilling out of the truck and to the ground. Getting to his feet dazedly he went around the other side, to check on his son. The passenger side was smashed in just as badly as the drivers side was, fortunately his adrenaline was still pumping, and he managed to tug the door open. His son’s legs were trapped in by the dashboard, and he feared moving him would make it worse.
Touching the boy’s throat and realizing he wasn’t breathing. Rummaging with shaky hands through his sons jacket he pulled out a cell phone. Flipping it open and thumbing out 9-1-1 as he stood there, unaware he was trembling. His own injuries bled out into the rain slicked highway, the drizzle still coming down watering it down. The phone was still ringing and he almost threw the phone out of desperation, but then a voice came on through slight static. “This is 911 Emergency Response, what’s happened?”
“An accident, please God, my son, he’s not breathing.”
“Try to stay calm, I need you to stay on the line, where are you?”
The person on the end of the line was irritatingly calm, and he couldn’t help but yell, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know!” There had been signs they’d passed, but now he couldn’t remember any of them. If only he had, it would be easier for them he knew, but his mind wasn’t thinking rationally at the moment.
“Just hang in there sir, we’re tracing your call, help’s on the way.”
On the way, “How long?”
“They’ve just left now sir, stay calm, talk to me. Is there anyone else involved?”
Involved…? The other car! Startled he whipped around too fast and nearly ended up on the ground. Staggering faintly his eyes lit on the car, his face paling. The small BMW old fashioned bug was in two pieces. Or rather, three. The front was in the middle of the second lane, the seats were down the highway a bit, and the back end was dangling halfway through the guardrail. Glass and metal littered the ground everywhere, and he wondered briefly if there could have been a survivor at all.
Then he spotted a figure, covered in glass and apparently still breathing from what he could see. There didn’t appear to be another person, but then again if there was he could have gone with the back end of the car, and perhaps fell down into the ditch. The thought made his stomach whirl and he nearly retched. “Y-yeah, there is, breathing but bad.” That was the only way he knew how to put it, the guys position looked worse off than his sons…but who knew. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t even thought of the other driver.
“Alright, the helicopters will be there any minute.” And true to her word the sound of helicopters started echoing about the mountains, and soon to white dots showed up. The closer they got the more you could see. Shielding his eyes and hunching more against the truck saved him from falling over as the copters landed on the road, the paramedics rushing out immediately. It was a team of twelve, four coming to him and his son, and the others doing a preliminary search of the area.
“We have another down here!” A woman shouted, and a head looked up from the man on the ground, an audible ‘Jesus H Christ’ spilling from his mouth. The woman had scurried over the guardrail and down into the ditch, as another paramedic ran over to help.
“Nevermind!” She shouted up at him, “She’s DOA.” She looked mildly green, and had actually turned away from the body, a hand over her mouth. Whatever had happened to the other crash victim wasn’t something he wanted to see.
“How the hell is this guy breathing??” The guy who’d swore earlier was helping lift the other man on a stretcher, to get him onto the copter.
“Doesn’t matter, just keep him breathing.”
The two paramedics had managed to free his sons legs, and get him onto a stretcher. The two trying to get him to move were finally able to, and he managed to croak out, “Is he gonna be okay?” The look the paramedics shot each other was not at all reassuring. Nor was the ‘We’ll do our best’ they told him. Groaning he let himself be put on a helicopter, eyes watching as the first one took off. Once in the helicopter they waited a moment, as the second man was brought in. His body strapped down to a stretcher, despite the…severity of the injuries. A few moments later and he had black out, the loss of blood, and his loss of adrenaline, had finally taken its toll.
Slowly his eyes came open, grey orbs staring up at the ceiling of the hospital before sliding around the room. There was a doctor there who stopped him from getting up. “You’ve been a bad car accident, Mr. Thibault…I…I’m sorry to inform you that your son didn’t survive…once your able to be up we’ll let you see him…” Tears burned at his eyes, his son hadn’t made it? Why..? He’d been…he was…the doctor had kept talking, about his injuries. He hadn’t been listening.
What he did pick up startled him. “After your fully recovered you’ll be arrested for reckless behavior, driving to endanger, and three charges of vehicular manslaughter…” Both of his eyes went wide, vehicular manslaughter…three charges…? Three…oh…his son, and the two strangers he’d hit. “None of them made it?” He croaked, throat dry, constricted, and on the verge of sobs. He had killed two people, and his son.
“I…I’m afraid not.” The doctor rested a hand on the mans arm, “I’m sorry.” Quietly the doctor got up to leave the man alone. Blank eyes stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down into his bandages. And quietly, life moved on. After leaving the hospital, Gustav Thibault spent the next fifteen years in prison. When he left, he simply disappeared from the world.