Stupid Dream
He tossed and turned in his sleep. He was having that dream again. He had heard that combat vets sometimes had PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's caused by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it - then triggered latter by unknown causes.
God knew that he had been involved in more than his share of horrific events in his life and had observed many more... if anyone was likely to suffer from PTSD then he would.
In the dream he saw a wall rushing towards him A huge wall that filled the sky and blotted out all reality. A wave. A gigantic wave like unto the haboobs he knew as a child in west Texas and in his more recent excursion to the Middle East. . The sound of rushing wind preceded it.
Unlike haboobs this wave wasn’t a wall of dust driven by the wind, riding upon a gravity wave. It was another type of wave. A wave of water. A hyper-tsunami. It swept everything before it. It destroyed everything in it’s path. Those unlucky humans caught in it’s path were instantly crushed, mangled, bent and mutilated by the enormous weight before they could even drown.
The wave was a hundred foot high. Anything caught in it’s path were instantly covered and their lungs and ribcages were crushed by 52 lbs per square inch of water pressure. It was lethal.
This was not right. He was many miles from the sea shore which was on the other side of the STATE. It could NOT be happening...yet it was. A gigantic wall of water rushing UP the river. The mother of all tidal bores. Old combat reflexes kicked in and he automatically reacted. Without a moment's thought he fled. He was a driver. He was driving. He swung the vehicle in a revenuer's turn and accelerated at max speed away from the onrushing wave. He raced up the road beside the river. He dearly wished for a side road up into the hills. There was none. He was in a gorge with steep walls on either side..
The monster wave had slowed considerably when it approached land, but it had gotten higher. It was slower yet this far from the coast but even taller in the narrow river valley... it was a hundred foot high and rising and moving at fifty miles per hour. He accelerated to over a hundred and put some distance between him and the bore.
Ahead was the bridge. He had to make a sharp left turn, cross the bridge spanning the river, make a sharp right turn, and climb the hill on the other side.
To survive.
Otherwise he would surely die.
He hit the gate at ninety eight...he wasn’t a gonna pay no toll. He hit the tollgate so hard it exploded. He crossed the bridge. The titanic wave hit bridge and destroyed it mere minutes after he had crossed over.
With squealing tires, throwing smoke he accelerated up the river road regaining distance lost making the turn. He slowly, so slowly pulled away from the churning maelstrom behind him. When the road leveled off and it topped the rise he knew he would never escape. There was water in front of him. The bridge he had expected to see was gone. Another wave had been there.
His only hope was to go off road and climb bald knob. There was a dirt road...really a goat trail to the top.
He did that.
Against all odds he wrestled the bucking, bouncing fishtailing car to the top of the hill. He bottomed out any number of times. He almost rolled it more than once. He fought on. Pieces of the car fell off. First it was minor things like hubcaps...then a muffler. He lost a rear bumper and then fenders. He didn’t quit. Finally, with his rear tires spitting gravel into the rising tide...he gained the summit.
Was he high enough? Time would tell. There was no where else to go. He sat in the remnants of his car watching the waters swirl past, almost lapping his tires. A broken tree floated by and there was a pixie sitting on the highest limb...when the tree passed close she spread her wings ...and flew over to land on the hood of his car, just in front of his windshield. she looked at him through the dirty glass...and winked.
Tinkerbelle? Oh hell.... why not?
Now there was two of them...watching the deluge from precarious safety. Night fell and yet the flood continued. There seemed no end to the torrent. He and the pixie, adrenalin notwithstanding, curled up in the car and fell asleep. The night was cold and they kept each other warm.
What a STUPID dream he thought.
Impossible.
No car could climb bald mountain.
Only an off road vehicle could hope to do that.
He sat up straight, raising his head and upper body from it’s uncomfortable repose on the steering wheel. He poured the last of his coffee from a thermos, gazed out the windshield of his 4x4 pickup watching the water flow and at the exotic, erotic almost naked pixie perched on it’s fender.
Stupid dream, he didn’t own a car.
Kamiko Akiyama strolled casually through “Rescue Central”, as she privately thought of it, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. Lucy seemed to be intensely involved in something. She turned and almost bumped into Cody. In spite of his young age and small stature Cody was now a full fledged member of Dragon Force and worked his fair share.
“Oops...sorry “ Kamiko hadn’t noticed Cody due to his height. She’d looked right over his head and almost not seen him.” I notice Lucy is busy. How’s it going? Do you need anything?”
Cody seemed oblivious that he’d almost been run down. He was all business. “Lucy is briefing a survivor. We’re not finding so many of them any more. Unfortunately we’d be hard put to help them if we did, we’ve gone through and incredible amount of SSmoke. I would have sworn we had enough to last forever...and we’re already almost out.”
“I guess we need to do something about that” Kamiko said. “I’m heading to a meeting at Ernie's with Shelby and the other Maggi right now. I’ll see what can be done.”
To Be Continued
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Disclaimer
The Hobo Picture is a Public Domain image from
Samantha at the Worlds Fair
by Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)
Illustrated by
Baron C. De Grimm published by
Funk and Wagnall's Company 1893
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The Badges are graciously provided by
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Unless otherwise noted
All other Illustrations are from
Pixabay