Dont Be a Hero

Fugitive

   Jackson hit the highway and floored it. He was afraid he would never make it to Salt Lake City. Whoever these people were, they wanted to get their hands on him pretty badly. He flew down the highway, not allowing the truck to drop below 90 mph. He was tempted to put his lights and siren on, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. However, if the Highway Patrol came after him, he wouldn't hesitate to turn on his flashers and keep right on driving.

Jackson Wolfe was not a man that was easily rattled. He had been through dark times and there were parts of his past he tried to keep locked away so he didn't have to think about them. His sister for one. She was the reason he had left home. He couldn't save her and that was unacceptable. Their parents died when they were young. Still just kids. They were both placed in foster care, but were kept together. His sister was two years younger and when their mom and dad were killed Jackson was already 16. He wasn't in foster care for long.

Lillian, his baby sister, went on to college after high school and she went after her passion. Science and technology. She loved everything high tech and futuristic. She wanted to help with the advancement of robotic technology and artificial intelligence. It fascinated her and she became very highly respected in her field of study. Jackson didn't pay much attention to any of it. When she talked about her work, he found it difficult to keep his mind from wandering. It bored him, but he was happy that she was happy.

He felt a duty as her brother to protect her and see that she behaved and stayed safe. He loved her, but because their parents had died it was more than that. He felt like they were depending on him to look after their little girl. The most important responsibility of his existence and he had failed. She was dead. They were both in the car accident and should have both been killed, but somehow, miraculously Jackson survived. He figured it was so that he could live with it for the rest of his life and be punished by the guilt.

All that aside, here he was heading back toward those memories. Back to the place where it had all happened. He was never able to run from the guilt, but he had at least been able to put some physical distance between himself and the scene of the pain.

He did his best to shove the memories from his mind. His best wasn't working though, and things kept popping up. Intruding on his thoughts. Her face. Her laugh. Her excitement about her job and where it was taking her. Her tenacity. Her rebellious nature that refused to back down from him when he thought she should or shouldn't do something that she wouldn't or would do anyways.

He thought of the night of the accident. He had accompanied her to a get-together so that she didn't have to try to find a date. There were scientists and nerds everywhere. He knew her job was important but he didn't pay enough attention to know exactly how important she was. When they were at the "small gathering" he had attended with her and he was being introduced to the Vice President of the United States, it gave him a clue as to how important her work had become.

He remembered her smiling and introducing him to "Doctor This" and "Doctor That" and (well, not Doctor Who, but possibly Doctor What), she had been so proud of her detective brother. At least so it seemed. All of the doctors and nerds had been dutifully impressed. He remembered one in particular asking him so many questions he had to pretend he needed the restroom in order to get away. As Jackson recalled that night for the first time in the couple of years since, he pondered that he couldn't remember what the guy had been asking him about. Cop work he assumed, but he couldn't remember exactly. It was hazy.

Images flashed through his mind and suddenly he swerved, nearly hitting the guard rail. He felt the dizziness wash over him and he fought to keep the truck under control. He took his foot off the gas and slowed almost to a complete stop. He was shaking and there were spots in his vision, making it difficult to see. It was nearly dark out.