Broken Bones - Sample Story
Broken Bones
Troy L. Lambert (author)
The crunch told him the something had cracked but he wasn’t done falling yet. The crunch had come as he struck a rock on his way over the cliff and down an embankment. Well rock would be a kind word. It was actually more like a boulder. But below it was gravel. As he slid down the steep scree, his skin was scrubbed from every part of his body where it was exposed.
Unfortunately today that was more than usual. He was a cautious motorcycle rider and always wore leathers and full gear. His helmet, now dented but keeping his head intact, was the only reason he was coherent. But it had started as a quick trip to the store. And why fire up the truck when he could hop on the bike, throw the half gallon of milk in his pack, and be back in a jiff? Perhaps this was why.
The bottom of the scree came up fast and he popped up over a log, his body sailing high into the air twirling and twisting. He landed and felt something in his back snap. Mercifully he couldn’t feel much after that but looked through the visor of his helmet like he was watching someone else.
He came to rest on a grassy knoll and spun lazily down a gentle hill, the blue sky spinning in his vision. He recalled laying on a merry go round as a child while his brother pushed him much too fast and he squealed laughter and protest at the sky. He could not move. He felt the breeze gently touch his face but he could not feel it anywhere else on his skin. He could move his head from side to side. He could see nothing in his field of vision but a row of bushes flanked by a row of scrawny pines.
Caught on a thorn in one of the bushes was a red top. It was torn, and there was no sign of its former occupant. His mind flashed back, and his heart filled with regret. He felt liquid spill from his eyes, and his vision blurred. It was supposed to be a quick trip to the store. But temptation had been behind him in line, and he had not resisted when the cute little red head had asked for a ride.
Her red top had clung invitingly to breasts that seemed to be bare beneath it. Her tiny shorts barely covered her rounded bottom, and he never had been able to resist a nice ass. Her smile promised more than gratitude if he gave her a ride so he did. She had snuggled to his back, her skin warm and soft as she wrapped her arms around him.
He had given her the extra helmet to wear, the one hanging on the helmet hook by the rear seat. It was the helmet his wife normally wore. She had told him to go faster, her smell invading his helmet and his nostrils clouding his judgment even further. So he sped up ignoring his instinct. It was a road he didn’t know well. The curve came up fast. He hadn’t made it. The last he had heard of his passenger, she had screamed.
The road had been strangely empty. He wondered if anyone had seen them go over the edge. He wondered if they would be found and if she was alive. He wondered what his wife would say at his funeral if he didn’t make it. He wondered if his dog would miss him and if his kids would remember he had been one of the good guys. He wondered why he had given that stupid girl a ride. He wondered all these things as he lay on the smooth grass, staring at the sky.
He wondered all these things as he lay here broken.
