The Rebel - A Highlander Short Story

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The Rebel - A Highlander Short Story Page 3

by Julianne MacLean

One year later

  Jessica shifted nervously in the driver's seat, her fingers like vice grips around the steering wheel. She'd driven for two hours, slicing through a rain-battered dusk, wishing that she lived closer to Dodge and her parents. If she did, she wouldn’t have to spend so many hours traveling from one city to the other.

  Maybe it was time to move home, she thought, for the tenth time that month. There wasn’t much keeping her in Topeka anymore—not since she broke off her engagement to Liam.

  She was self-employed and could write her fitness column from wherever she pleased. All she needed was a good pair of sneakers for running, her laptop, and wireless Internet at a nearby Starbucks. Her apartment was a sublet. She could give a month’s notice and be out of there in a heartbeat. The change would do her good.

  Not that she wasn’t happy in her work. She loved what she did. There were no problems in that department, but everything else seemed so uncertain and unpredictable.

  Her brother had gone out to buy ice cream after supper one night, and he never saw another sunrise again.

  Jessica had imagined she’d be married by now with a kid on the way, but the man she chose for a husband turned out to be a self-absorbed child, and she was suddenly single again, paying off debt from a honeymoon she had no choice but take alone.

  Yet, she was ever hopeful, waiting for a sign from above, a clue to suggest what she was meant to do with her life. There had to be some greater purpose.

  Should she stay in Topeka, or move home to Dodge to be closer to her parents?

  They weren’t getting any younger and wouldn’t be around forever. If she’d learned anything over the past year, it was to make the most of each and every day, because you never knew when it could all end — just like that — with no warning whatsoever.

  Come on, destiny. Which is it? Topeka or Dodge?

  A flash of lightning and an instantaneous thunderclap caused her to jump in her seat. Rolling her neck to ease the tension in her shoulders, she flexed her fingers on the steering wheel and repositioned her slick palms. The windshield wipers snapped noisily back and forth.

  Another crash of thunder overlapped the last. Counting the seconds to keep her mind occupied, Jessica raked stiff fingers through her hair. She'd just finished a cup of bitter service-station coffee, and now her brain, whirling with caffeine, couldn't match the lightning with the correct thunderclap.

  Maybe the radio would take her mind off things. She tuned into a fiddling festival, then tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel to "Oh! Susanna." Other vehicles passed her at dangerous speeds, their tires hissing through puddles on the slick pavement. She glanced impatiently at her watch, wondering how much longer she'd have to fight this storm.

  Ahead of her, a white freight truck lumbered slowly up the incline. Knowing she’d have to pass, she glanced over her shoulder and signaled to cross into the passing lane.

  She barely managed to gain any distance when her car suddenly hydroplaned and began to fishtail. Instinctively, she slammed her red stiletto pump onto the brake, realizing too late what she had done. Her heart pummeled her ribcage as she tried to regain control, but it was no use. The steering wheel was useless as the vehicle spun around in a dizzying circle.

  Oh! Susanna, don't you cry for me....

  The car whipped around and flipped over, bouncing across the pavement like a child’s toy. The world spun in chaotic circles. Jessica’s head hit the side window. Glass smashed, and steel collapsed like tin all around her.

  Frozen with fear, she felt all her muscles constrict. Please, stop! Get me out of here!

  Lightning split the ashen sky. The car lit up and sizzled with one electrifying pulse after another.

  The light...it was too bright. She couldn’t see. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  All at once, the world became silent except for the echoed thumping of her heart in her ears. There was no pain, only blackness. She felt as if she were floating, detached from everything but the extraordinary quiet, the complete absence of all cares and misgivings. She felt no fear now. Was this death? Maybe she would see her brother....

  Something wet trickled down her forehead and onto her eyelashes.

  The distinct visceral sensation sucked her out of the tranquil beyond, and when her eyes fluttered open, she found herself lying on her back, gazing up at the dusky sky, watching silvery clouds roll and twist and turn in the most fantastic way.

  Then real, conscious thoughts began to form in her brain.

  She’d been in a car accident. She was lying in the grass. Her hair was wet. Was it blood?

  Blinking in panic, she touched her throbbing temples but discovered the wetness was only rain. Relieved, she sat up and realized she was sitting in a puddle of mud. A damp chill rippled up her spine.

  Had she been thrown from the car? She couldn't remember anything that violent. Of course, she had shut her eyes and blacked out. Or at least she thought that’s what happened.

  With trembling hands, she rose up on her knees and rubbed the side of her neck where the seatbelt had chafed her. Next, she touched her scalp, feeling a gritty, sandy residue. Shattered glass, she realized, as she studied the pads of her fingers. And her head—Good Lord. A bump was already sprouting at her temple.

  Wondering if she had a concussion, she carefully tried to stand. She pressed her hand into the gooey muck to keep her balance and rose to her feet. Her stiletto pumps sank deeper into the puddle, right up to the ankles of her skinny jeans. She noticed that her favorite black belted jacket was ruined. A button was torn off, and the pocket was ripped.

  She glanced around, searching for her car.

  Where was it? And why couldn’t she hear traffic from the road?

  Bewildered, she scanned the rolling prairie for the vehicle. Surely it was somewhere.

  She rested her hand on her stomach that churned with nausea. It was a normal reaction, she knew, after what she’d just been through. In fact, it was a miracle she was even able to stand.

  But where was her car?

  The only explanation she could come up with was that she must have been wandering around in shock for the last little while and had left it behind — along with her purse and cell phone. And the strange floating sensation.... That must have been some kind of dream state.

  So where was she, exactly? To her left were miles of flat, green prairie. To her right, a small hill. She decided to climb it to see what was on the other side.

  When she reached the top, she stepped onto a country road pocked with puddles and wet stones. She pushed her damp hair away from her face to look around, and her heart sunk.

  More miles of prairie. In every direction.

  How had she gotten this far? And which way should she go?

  She stared transfixed at a distant flicker of lightning far off, just above the misty horizon. A quiet breeze fanned the odor of cow manure into her face, and nervous dread swelled inside her.

  Something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t possibly have walked much of a distance. Could she?

  Well, she thought, taking a deep, steadying breath and resolving to stay rational. There was no point standing around doing nothing. That road had to lead somewhere.

  Off she went.

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