Soul of a Gambler

Part IV - "Nothing to Gain"

The Long highway, black and clouded with darkness and rain. There weren't any lights in view, not yet. Not to say it was an area away from light. A rural Texas highway under a heavy storm in place of winter stars exacerbates light diffraction. The blond boy, on an old highway. There's no time now to reflect on moments before, but his mind keeps going there anyway.

Tired and stressed, driving blindly down a straight stretch of road, reality comes in and out like a winding harmonica note.

The speedometer began to flick as the RPMs hit the red zone. He never drove like this, seventy, eighty, ninety miles an hour in the torrential rain. This was his only car, if he wrecked and was somehow lucky enough to survive there wouldn't be another. He focused on the lines of the winding road, illuminated a shining fluorescent from his hard-white aftermarket headlights despite the horrible sounds coming from his phone that he routed through the Corvette's speaker system threatening to capture his attention. He pushed the pedal down harder, the angry purr of the engine sharply rose in eager response.

"Jackie!" The voice of his mother was shrill with distress, coming through his speakers like a scream.

"Mom, come on, just back away, just get out. I'll be there soon."

One hundred miles an hour. The hood of his car devoured the onyx ribbon below. With every set of headlights he passed by he held his breath, hoping it wasn't a cop or a sheriff. The speed limit was fourty-five, and he didn't need to go to jail when his mom was in danger.

"Jackie help!" There was another sound, like a deep grunt, something thudded in the background and a glass somewhere on the other end shattered.

"Mom, just run! I'm almost there!"

He nearly missed the road sign on his right, 'Austin, 5mi'. At this speed he would reach the Lucky 7 in less than four minutes.

"Jax! They're hurting me!" She shouted and began to cry deep sobs of pain into the phone. He thought he caught a deep voice calling her a 'cheating bitch'.

"Jax! Please!" She wailed, followed by a hard thump.

"Mom! Mom, I got'chu, just hold out, I gotta',"

A car horn blared and he swerved hard to the right and back into his lane. The sounds of fighting were louder now, and Susan's voice was reduced to a deep sobbing gurgle by the time he pulled up outside the bar just outside of Austin she frequented. He unbuckled his seat belt and threw open the door, leaving the car on for a quick getaway. He opened the passenger side door before bursting into the bar, one hand on the knife in his pocket.

Susan Davis was in a heap on the floor, her hair in her face and her hands pressed tight to her belly. He ran to her, the assailants gone, probably escaped out a back door. He rushed to her, the other patrons of the bar backed away to the far corners of the room, many still holding their drinks.

"Jax they..."

"Mom, I know, we're gonna get help keep that pressure."

He was able to more or less scoop up his mother with his arm below her knees and her other hand supporting her back. All that weight training in high school would pay dividends some day to be certain, but he never expected this. He kicked open the double door, cracking the glass of the in-set windows with his boot. His head swiveled as he crossed the parking lot, checking every little motion and every sound for any trace of the coward that did this.