Coffin Dodgers by Gary Marshall Read Free Book Online Page B

Technicolor. Time slows down, because -- again -- your brain is trying to find a way for you to survive.
    Turns out that's all true. I've never been so alert in my life.
    The car reaches the corner, and I haul on the steering wheel with all my strength. The car turns, but then there's a loud pop. I think it's a tyre blowing. Suddenly everything's moving in the wrong direction. The car slews into the crash barrier and bounces backwards. The steering wheel is spinning like crazy and I know that if I try to stop it, I'll break my arm. So I fold my arms and let whatever's going to happen happen.  
    What happens is this. The car goes backwards, still spinning, and there's a crunch as it hits the barrier on the other side of the road. So now I go forward, still spinning, the steering wheel acting like it's got a mind of its own.  
    Another crunch, and another, and another.
    And then, nothing.
    Everything's in colour again. I sit for a moment and then climb out of the car. I'm in a field. My face is wet. I think I've cut my head somewhere. The car is a mess, like somebody took a hammer to every inch of the bodywork. I wonder if the car will go on fire. I hope it doesn't.
    I take a few steps but something trips me up, and I'm face down in the wet grass. I'm tired, I think. So very tired.  
    I need to get up, I know.  
    I'll do it in a minute.
    I close my eyes and everything goes black.

CHAPTER SIX

    Being dead is brilliant. I'm warm and cosy and feeling all nice and floaty, and Amy's just kissed me on the cheek. If I'd known that being dead was this good, I'd have done it ages ago.
    "You're such an arse," Amy says.
    I'm pretty sure that you're not allowed to talk like that in Heaven, and since nobody appears to be stabbing me with red-hot pokers I guess I'm not in Hell either.
    I blink until my vision clears and the room swims into focus. I'm in a small hospital ward. It's dark, and the other beds appear to be unoccupied. What little light there is comes from the reading lamp above my bed and through the gap between the doors and the floor.
    Amy is sitting in a hard plastic chair next to the bed. Her eyeliner is smudged. I think she's been crying.
    "How are you feeling?" she asks.
    "I'm not sure," I say. "I think I'm okay."
    "The doctor says they've pumped you full of drugs, so you'll probably be sore when they wear off. You haven't broken anything, but you've been bashed about quite a bit."
    I give Amy my most earnest look. "Tell me the truth," I say.
    "Okay."
    "Will I ever dance again?"
    "I bloody hope not. You're a menace on the dance floor."
    "Ah. Good point."
    Amy smiles, but I can tell her heart isn't really in it.
    "Do you remember what happened?"
    "More or less," I say. "I was driving home and then the car went nuts. I think one of the tyres blew."
    Amy nods. "You're lucky to be alive, you know. That road's usually busy. A few minutes earlier or later and you'd have ended up underneath a truck."
    "Somebody up there must like me."
    "They've got a funny way of showing it."
    Amy looks away. I don't say anything. When she looks back I think her eyeliner is even more smudged than before.
    "Were you scared?"
    "No," I say, and I mean it. Amy looks surprised. "Seriously. It was weird. When I realised there wasn't anything I could do, I just felt really calm. My life didn't flash before my eyes, or anything like that. Everything happened in slow motion. It felt like I was watching it all happening to somebody else."
    The door opens. It's one of the nurses. Visiting time is up.
    Amy gets up, leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Again.
    "I'm glad you're okay."
    I want to say something, but the words don't come.
    Amy gives me a small wave.
    "See you tomorrow," she says.

    "Heavily bearded transvestite man!"
    It's Dave's turn to visit me. The serious chat didn’t last very long. Of course it didn't. We're blokes. So now we're trying to outdo one another by inventing superheroes with really bad superpowers.
    "The Black Banjo!"