Ember Skies

by Nicky Crawford

  I straddled his chest and brought my fist down hard into his face, “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as Ember. You don’t deserve one ounce of happiness, Austin.”

  My words fueled his rage and before I had time to react, he brought his knee up and slammed it hard into the middle of my back, causing me to arch back just enough for him to get another blow into the side of my face.

  We wrestled back and forth; each getting our share of hate filled hits in. We both stumbled to our feet and I walked over to my truck, ready to get the fuck away from Austin. I heard his feet hit the gravel and spun around, bracing myself for another match. Before he made it to me, he turned and ran toward my truck. He jumped into the bed, his expression unrecognizable. I was a few feet from the driver’s door, ready to jump in and take him right along with me. I’m sure I could make it to the police station without giving him any chance to jump out and run.

  “Take one more step and it will be your last.”

  My eyes shot up toward him, then down to his hands. He was holding a handgun, his pointer finger shaky against the trigger. “Whoa, man. Chill the fuck out. Put the gun down, Austin.”

  “Fuck you, Bates. Fuck you, and her, and everyone else.”

  I didn’t know what to do. If I got in the truck, he could easily shoot me through the back window, or reach around and shoot in the side window. Shit. I contemplated running in the house, trying to calculate how fast I would have to run if I zig zagged all the way to my front door, hopefully being missed by any bullets he shot my way.

  Clearly getting in my truck was a definite death sentence, so I chose the latter. I took off in a dead sprint, running in every direction but straight, hoping to throw off his aim. I heard the bullets, one, two, and then another. I hit the first step, feeling like I had made it out unscathed, but as my foot hit the last step, I felt the searing pain of metal slash through my skin.

  I gasped, fighting like hell to catch my breath. I tried to keep running, tried to make it into my house, but the pain overtook any effort I made to will my legs to move. I tumbled forward, unable to get my arms in front of me quick enough to brace the fall. When my head smashed against the porch, I tried to blink through the pain, tried to get the fuck up and get into my house, but everything went dark.

  “Fuck. Oh fuck.” I jumped out of the back of his truck and ran toward to road, sprinting as fast as I could to my own truck. “What the fuck did I do? What in the fuck did I just do?” I jumped into the driver’s seat, burning rubber as I sped onto the road, needing to drive as fast and as far as I could in the shortest amount of time as possible.

  I checked my review mirror, then both side mirrors. A truck in the distance slowed and, fuck, it turned into his driveway. Someone will find him and they will be after me sooner than I thought. I shift my weight onto my right foot, pushing the gas pedal down farther and farther. They can’t catch me. They won’t find me.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted to kick his ass, sure, but I didn’t mean to shoot him. Holy fuck I killed him. I applied more weight to the gas pedal, watching to odometer rise, 60…65…70 miles per hour. My left hand cradled the steering wheel, my knuckles white from the death grip I had on it. I balled my right hand into a fist, beating it violently against the dashboard, “No no no no.”

  “This is your fault!” I yelled out, “You did this to me. Why? Why couldn’t you let me have a normal childhood? Instead, you fucked with my life. You destroyed every ounce of happiness while you were alive and look, look what it fucking did to me.”

  My shitty excuse for a father was dead, but if you can hear those on earth, from hell, than that sick bastard is listening.

  I swore I would never end up like him. I joined the service and tried to be the man I always thought I could be, the man he never was.

  “You turned me into someone I hate. Does that make you happy? I hate myself.”

  I began to cry, tears streaming in large droplets down my face, blurring my vision. My fist beat the dashboard again and again, the throbbing pain in my hand helping to ease the rest of the pain I was feeling. I looked down at the odometer again, 75…80…85 miles per hour.

  I don’t know why I couldn’t just let this go. Why the fuck did I go to his house? I only brought the gun along to scare him. Just scare him. Fuck, I killed him. I need to hide, cross the border into Mexico or something and never come back.

  I blame my father for what he put me through growing up, the abuse, the never ending drinking, but mostly I blame myself for letting him affect me. Every time I laid a hand on Ember, I willed what I did from my mind, chalking it up to a small lapse in judgement. She’ll forgive me, I know she’ll forgive me, you are not your father.

  I tried to get help, tried to talk to someone, but it didn’t help. Every time I turned my anger on Ember, I felt like a little boy again, hiding in the corner, watching my father beat my mom. That wasn’t me, not the real me. Ember married the real me. The man who loved her more than life itself, but the stress of life, fuck the stress ate at me.

  I drank. I drank myself fucking stupid so many nights a week and turned into a monster. I made my wife fear me. Who does that? Who the fuck does that?

  “What did I do? I’m a murderer. MURDERER!” I screamed into the air, letting my truck fill up with my frantic voice, cracking every so often as I yelled with everything I had.

  My throat hurt, but I screamed louder with every word, chanting over and over, “Murderer. You’re a fucking murderer.”

  Maybe he didn’t die. Maybe he’s okay. “NO!” No, I shot him. I fucking shot him. There was blood. “So much fucking blood.” What if he wakes up? “Please, wake up. I’m not a killer.” I’m not.

  Once again, I press more weight onto my right foot, 90…95…100 miles per hour.

  I have to tell Ember. I have to tell her I didn’t mean to do it. “I didn’t mean to do it!” She’ll believe me. She has to. She always saw the good in me. The man behind the monster. She’s always been the beauty and I the beast.

  I reach for my phone. No, she won’t pick up. She will know it’s me. I dial *67 then type her number. Maybe she will answer if she doesn’t know who is calling. It’s ringing, once… twice… three times.

  “Hello?”

  “I…I didn’t mean to do it.” I yelled, “I didn’t. It was an accident. I wanted to scare him, fight him even. I…”

  “Austin?” She had so much fear behind her voice as she spoke my name.

  “Please believe me. I didn’t mean to kill him. Ember, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. He’s dead. It’s all my fault.”

  “What did you do, Austin? What the FUCK did you do? No, no no no, please don’t tell me…”

  I needed to drive faster. I needed the speed of my truck to match the erratic beating of my heart. I applied more pressure to my right foot, 105…110…115 miles per hour.

  My vision blurred as I fought back the waterfall of tears threatening to consume me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t. I don’t know who I am anymore. WHO AM I?”

  The other end of the line was silent. She hung up. She ended the call. I moved the phone from my ear, looking to see if the call really did end, but her face was still on the screen.

  As I brought my eyes back up to the road, a sharp curve approached, leaving me little time to react.

  “Austin, please. Please tell me you didn’t kill someone. Please.”

  “Fuuuck. No! No! I can’t stop. There isn’t time to stop. It’s too sharp. I can’t fucking stop.” I stomped on the brake, desperate to slow my truck down. If I tried to take the corner, I would flip over the railing for sure. “Stop, stop, stop!!”

  My tires squealed against the pavement, slowing only slightly. I cranked the wheel, trying like hell to take the corner as carefully as I fucking could, knowing that at this point, If I drove straight into the railing at this speed, there is no doubt that I would go over and end up driving down the steep ravine. Taking the curve is the
only chance I have.

  “Austin? What is happening? What are you trying to stop? Who did you hurt, Austin? Who?”

  I listened to her voice, remembering how happy it use to make me, how happy she use to make me. I destroyed her. I destroyed us.

  I pumped the brakes again as I rounded the curve, but it was no use. I could feel my backend fishtail as I smashed into the metal railing. “Holy shit. No. Holy shit.”

  “What is that noise, Austin? What is happening? Where are you?” Her voice was full of fear and riddled with panic.

  My truck skirted against the metal railing for only a second before it flipped over the rail, sending me crashing down the ravine.

  “Help! Holy shit. I’m going to die! This is it. This is it. I’m so sorry, Ember.” I began yelling, screaming. This was it. The truck hit every rock and tree on the way down, rolling over and over again.

  My face was wet, warm. Blood. I could feel the blood rushing down my face, clouding my vision, causing me to choke on the coppery taste. Ember was yelling into the phone. I could hear her screams.

  I tried to say something else, anything else, but I couldn’t speak. Only muffled screams left my lips as the phone flew from my grip. No! I have more to say. There is more to say.

  The truck continued to flip over and over, the sounds of broken glass and metal being crushed against trees and rocks, filled my ears.

  With a loud thump, the truck stopped. A searing pain shot through my stomach, leaving me gasping for air. Blood pooled around me as I placed my hands on the tree limb embedded into my abdomen. I coughed relentlessly, blood flying from my mouth as I fought like hell to get oxygen into my lungs.

  I can’t breathe. This is it. I can’t breathe. Just breathe. Just…

  “Austin? Austin? I don’t hear anything, Magnolia. He was screaming, gasping, I heard it. Austin?” I was franticly yelling into the phone, stopping only long enough to listen for sounds, for any sort of noise. He was screaming, yelling for help as tires squealed and loud noises came through the phone.

  I got out of bed and began to pace.

  “What is going on, Ember?”

  I walked back and forth, covering every inch of my room. I held the phone to my ear again, trying to hear something, anything.

  Hands gripped my shoulders, forcing me to stop pacing. “Ember, look at me! What the hell is going on?”

  “We have to call the police. He’s hurt. He hurt someone. They are both hurt.”

  “Who? Who did Austin hurt? How do you know he himself is hurt?”

  “He was yelling, Magnolia. Scared out of his damn mind. I could hear it in his voice, the fear, the conviction. He was saying goodbye. Without directly saying it, he was saying goodbye, Magnolia. He hurt someone. He said he killed someone. Oh my God. Dalton!”

  I pulled up Dalton’s name on my phone and hit send. “Straight to voicemail. It’s not even ringing!”

  I tried again and again, and every time it went straight to voicemail.

  “You need to calm down, stop pacing. I’m going to call 911.”

  I sat for a minute, then shot back up, resuming my previous path of pacing back and forth. My phone rang, pulling me out of my shock induced trance. I hit answer, not even looking to see who was calling.

  “Dalton? Hello?”

  “Ember…”

  “Blake, something happened. Austin called and he said he did something, and then he got into an accident I think…”

  “Ember…” The way he said my name, terrified me. It was an equal mix of fear and sorrow. I could hear him sighing, his breathing rapid and out of control. “I came home to pack my bag. The girls are I were heading out for the weekend. I found him lying on the porch. Fuck, Ember. There was so much blood.”

  No, God no. “No!” The tears fell in heavy streams as I gasped for breath. “No, Blake. No! Please, no!”

  I sank to the floor. My free hand covered my face as I rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt sick to my stomach, completely consumed with fear. He killed him. Austin killed Dalton.

  Blake’s voice was weak on the other end. I couldn’t make out his words through my loud sobs. I let the phone fall to the floor as I brought my other hand to my face, crying into them.

  I felt arms around me, holding me with everything they had. I heard Magnolia, faintly. She was talking to Blake. “No, please. Please bring him back. Please. I need him. I need him.”

  “Ember, stop. Stop and look at me.”

  I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t look up at her. I couldn’t do anything but cry and plead.

  I heard another voice, a nurse maybe. I didn’t care. I didn’t move, didn’t look up, I only cried louder, gasping for air every so often.

  “Em, its Harper. Honey, listen to me. Ember, look at us.”

  Harper? She came to tell me in person. She wanted to be here for me when she told me the news. I know it. She wasn’t planning to visit today. Blake must have called her.

  I felt hands grip my wrists, struggling to pull my hands away from my face. I fought back, using what little strength I had left to keep my hands pressed against my eyes, needing something solid to cry into. The grip tightened and I didn’t have the energy to fight back this time.

  Harper was in my face, gripping my chin so that I had to face her. I closed my eyes, trying to shake my head. Her hands cupped my face, she was so close I could feel her breath on my skin. “No. Please, just leave me here.”

  “Open your eyes, Ember.” I couldn’t look at them. I couldn’t see the pity in the eyes of my two best friends. “Ember, open your fucking eyes before I pry them open with my fingernails.” I caved, knowing full well that Harper would make truth to her threat. I opened them slowly, unable to focus through my blurry, tear filled eyes.

  “He’s not dead, Ember. Dalton is not dead. He’s injured, but he’s not dead.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Blake went home and found him lying on the porch, unconscious. He was shot in the shoulder. He must have fallen while trying to run into the house and hit his head. He’s not dead, honey.”

  What? “B-but Blake said. He. He made it sound like he was dead.”

  Magnolia put her arm around me and snuggled me against her side, “Blake was scared, Em. When he pulled into the driveway, he thought Dalton was dead. You didn’t give him a chance to explain. You assumed he was dead because of what Austin said and because of how Blake sounded.

  “Where is he? I need to see him!”

  “The ambulance pulled up with him at the same time I got here. Let’s head down to the emergency room.” Harper said as she stood up.

  They each grabbed an arm and pulled me to my feet.

  We found our way to the emergency room after what seemed like hours. Blake was pacing the length of the waiting room while Trent and my parents spoke quietly to each other in the corner. Blake looked up, his eyes locked on mine as he closed the space between us. His big arms wrapped snuggly around my waist as he buried his face into my shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Em. You didn’t let me explain. I tried to explain. I should have been home sooner. I could have prevented this.”

  “No. If you would have been there, you could be in the same position as Dalton. There was no way to prevent this. Do not blame yourself.”

  He hugged me tighter, clinging to me as if I was his lifeline.

  “Are you the family of Dalton Bates?”

  We broke apart and turned toward the voice. Doctor Carter stood a few feet away, waiting for someone to respond to his question. When his eyes met mine, he looked surprised, “Ember, I didn’t realize it was you.”

  I shook his hand as he continued, “Dalton is in surgery. We are working to repair his shoulder. The damage is extensive, but I am confident that he will make a full recovery. He took a nasty spill, the large gash on his forehead is evidence of that, but with a healthy amount of stiches, he will be good as new. I’ll update you as soon as he is out of surgery.”

  We thanked him and
he walked away.

  My dad squeezed my hand and smiled, “Why don’t your mom and I go and get some coffee for everyone? I think I saw a coffee shop just up the street.”

  I leaned into him and kissed his cheek, “Thank you, daddy.”

  We jotted down our orders on a piece of paper, and after hugging both my parents, they left.

  “Is Piper keeping tabs on all three children?” My question was directed at everyone, with the exception of Magnolia who has been with me the entire time.

  “Yes, she just texted me. Bryson is asleep and the girls are snuggled together on the couch, watching a movie.”

  As we all sat down, Blake’s phone rang. He glanced at it and nodded to me as he walked away to answer it. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I watched his facial expressions. He seemed shocked, confused even. After a few minutes, he walked back and sat down next to me.

  “That was one of the officers who came to the house tonight. They found Austin.”

  “How badly is he hurt? Is he on his way here?” A million questions ran through my mind, but I asked the first two I thought of.

  “No, Em. They are not bringing him here.”

  “Why? I heard him screaming and other loud noises. He was scared and something was happening.”

  Blake looked down at his hands and sighed. I looked at my friends who were on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear what Blake had to say.

  “He’s not coming here, because he didn’t make it, Em. His truck flipped over the guardrail on that sharp curve on Hollow’s Creek Rd. From what they could gather, he died pretty quickly once the truck landed at the bottom of the ravine.”

  I didn’t reply. I needed a minute to process what he said. Austin is dead. I cannot possibly put my current emotions into perspective. I’m sorry that his life was cut short, that he wasn’t able to be saved, not only from the accident, but from himself. He has done so many terrible things, but I still feel bad. I’m not going to grieve for the man that just passed away though, I’m going to grieve for the man I lost years ago. The man whom I loved unconditionally.