Gin Palace 02 - The Bone Orchard

knew I would lose much of the ground I had gained in the turn. I held the accelerator down and gripped the wheel firmly and watched the curve get closer and closer. It came up fast, as if it and I were both racing toward each other and not just me toward it. I heard the Fiat downshift and the pitch of the engine change from baritone to tenor. It screamed through the corner as if it were on tracks. I dropped down a gear and pressed the brakes, though I knew it was much too late. I knew I would cross onto the shoulder and maybe even eat sand as I moved recklessly into the turn. I turned the wheel to the left and felt the right side of my car dip. My suspension was for shit, and my bald tires chirped like four frightened birds. The steering wheel tugged and jerked; I had pushed my whole car into spasms. I was flung into the turn and it seemed for a moment that my car would flip and I would roll, kicking up sand and grass, into the dunes.
    Then the harsh glare of headlights filled my car. I remember at that instant looking down at the speedometer and realizing I had dropped from eighty to forty. I was on the shoulder, halfway through the turn; I heard sand shifting under my tires. Then it seemed that all there was were those headlights. The interior of my car was entirely lit up, and I saw my dashboard and console and knobs in such stark detail that I was fascinated by it for several seconds.
    Then I realized what was happening, and every muscle in my body flexed in anticipation.
    A black Ford Explorer had been waiting just around the turn. It came at me, plowing headlong toward my driver’s side door just as the right side of my car was dipped to the point of turning over. The Ford struck my car hard, landing right on target, and I felt first the jolt, the sudden transition from forward motion to sideways motion, and then I felt the left side of my car rise upward. It felt so much like a carnival ride, a combination of bumper cars and the corkscrew of a roller coaster. I heard glass break and metal fold, and then I was airborne, tumbling down a drop just beyond the edge of the road.
    Now it didn’t feel so much like a carnival ride. Now I was in two tons of steel that was being rolled like a toy, unable to find my bearings. I was facing upward, then upside down, then upward again. It was happening faster than I could think. My seat belt was on but I was still getting banged up pretty good. My arms flailed with the spinning motion, hitting the ceiling and the door. I felt sharp pains in my ribs and a heaviness on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I prayed for each turn to be the last, and when finally the rolling finally did stop, I was hanging upside down.
    I felt nauseated, and too many hurts were checking in with my brain for me to keep track of. I hung in the seat belt, the crumbled door against my side, my head against the ceiling. I seemed heavier upside down.
    I felt around till I found the buckle and then pressed the button. The force of my weight against the locking mechanism made the button hard to push, but I got it finally and slumped from the seat onto the roof – first my shoulder, then my side, then one leg. The other was caught between the door and the dash. I stayed that way for a moment, then tried to work my leg free. There was pain but I didn’t think any bones were broken. I strained, my hands cupped behind my knee, and pulled till my leg was free and my entire body came to rest on the dented ceiling.
    I lay still and heard the sound of someone approaching across the sand. I turned my head as far as it would go and looked out the passenger’s door window. The glass was gone; bits of it were everywhere. I saw the SUV up on the road, its headlights aimed down at me. I saw in that light the shape of someone. He moved slowly. I remembered my mad dash down to the pond where Amy Curry’s car was sinking. This man, however, showed no such urgency.
    I pulled myself toward the driver’s door window. Its glass, too, was gone. I could feel its bits under me, under my elbows and hands and knees. I could feel blood coming from my head and its warmth spreading over me in an oddly comforting way. I pulled myself through the window and onto the sand. My car was between me and the approaching man. I tried to stand but couldn’t. I pulled myself on my stomach away from the car, but there was nowhere to go. Ahead of me was a dune I couldn’t possibly climb, and beyond it I could hear waves hissing. I rolled onto