Highway 93

"Jet, I’m leaving now. Yes, yes I know. Alright I get it." Marcie snapped her cell phone shut and through it into her Louis Vitton bag. She tugged at her t-shirt then got into her car. The Volvo’s leather seat was cold on her back. Marcie shivered. Something about tonight just didn’t seem right to her. She looked out her window to the moon. Its yellow glow skimmed over the world, casting a glimpse to all humanity of God’s grace.11

On this particular night, Marcie drove a little faster than the usual speed so she could get home. An unusual feeling was building in her stomach. She sped up to 65 when the limit was 45. What was the chance a cop would be out on this road this late? Cop sirens sounded close behind her, go figure. Marcie slowed to a stop as she pulled over into the brush. She pushed her long hair behind her back and rolled down the window one third of the way. The cop cars lights flashed in and out of her car window and she sat there and waited patiently. She soon heard the cop slam his door shut and the sound of footsteps approaching. 42

“The pretty girl in the Volvo. –Prison Break john” Marcie shrieked in horror and turned around. Behind her stood a man wearing a blue prison uniform. He brought the ax up high in one fast motion, and then brought it down onto Marcie’s head. Blood gushed from all corners of her skull and she collapsed to the ground. John pulled out a cell phone.20“Jet. Yea… I got her. This was way easier than that car accident.”213