One Blood

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Seven

 

US-61

 

Lincoln arrived at the intersection where Tunica Trace met US-61. He was at a crossroads. A right turn would take him into the eye of the storm. A left turn would lead somewhere else, to some other future.

I’m a free man. I could just head north and never look back.

Lincoln thought about Brandon locked up in the Lake City Police Department. He pictured Moses laid up in the Angola infirmary. He'd rather slit his wrists than abandon the only people who’d ever given a fuck about him. Lincoln gave one more glance toward the left and the sweet unknown. Then he turned right.

After a difficult hour and a half, his choice put him in the middle of a completely gridlocked highway. Cars packed to the hilt with suitcases, kids, and pets smothered I-10 West.

Where the fuck is everyone goin’? 

A sign announced a rest stop ahead. It couldn’t have come at a better time.

Lincoln struggled to remain conscious. Whatever Jhonnette had done to him had his body in a state of shock. She’d warned him that he might suffer a reaction to her healing. He had been stupid to trust her. She'd probably put some voodoo hex on him because, after all, she was Panama X's daughter.

He could see the rest area up ahead on the right, but the stalled traffic was not allowing him to get any closer to it.

Fuck this.

Lincoln pulled over onto the shoulder. A few seconds later, he parked crookedly next to a station wagon that had also pulled off the road. Most of his remaining strength had drained out of his body. Shivers overcame him, his heart beating weakly in his chest. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Jhonnette’s parting words came back to him, “I healed your physical wounds, Lincoln, but only you can heal your real scars.”

Lincoln closed his eyes and saw stars. Moments later, he was snoring loudly inside the Jeep.