Beyond the City Lights

Chapter 9

The idea of death terrifies some, intrigues others. Some are scared of death and some welcome it, but no matter one's feelings on death we all experience it in one way or another. Death is a part of life the same way the sun is a part of the morning and the moon is part of the night.

The man fell in the direction opposite of death. He landed hard on the cement edge of the Sky View Bridge, but barely felt a thing in his drunken state.

Part of him clung to this life, clung to the safety of the side of the bridge. Unwilling to let death win after all. It wasn't death's moment to shine, so the man climbed down off the bridge and began walking home.

The night air was sobering to the man, so he lingered in it. Slowing his pace to enjoy it. To enjoy... life.

He was alive, and as strange as it was for a man who'd taken others lives this past week, he appreciated being alive.

The man made his way back to the city. Not at all regretful that his car laid tucked away in the garage far from where he was at. He was fine being on foot, he drove around the city all day. He intended to enjoy the night, to enjoy his freedom to roam the city streets. After all, he didn't think he had much time left to do so. Death or incarceration was catching up to him. He was rooting for death.

Growing weary, the man found a park bench and sat down. For awhile, his adrenaline from nearly falling off the bridge kept him going with more potency than caffeine. But now that it'd run its course, exhaustion flooded in to replace it.

With no rush to get home, the man shut his eyes and drifted off to the land of dreams.

In his dream, the man was back on the bridge. Falling again. Only this time he fell in the opposite direction. He fell off the bridge down to the rocks below.

A sharp pain erupted in his head, reverberating around in his skull as he slammed into the rocks beneath the bridge. Then a blinding, bright light appeared.

This is it, this is the end, the man thought. Deep down he had a gut feeling he'd always end up back on the bridge. Now here he was, lying dead in the rocks.

With what remained of his functioning brain, the man realized there was no water flowing over him, or even near him. The stream below the Sky View Bridge always had water. Sometimes the water was low, shallow, but there was always water. Yet, somehow, he was completely dry.

That's when the man realized he wasn't dead and it was all a dream, all except the pain. That was real. His head was throbbing.

Awake now, the man sat up. He was no longer on the bench. He must have fallen off when he was dreaming so intensely. Probably hit his head on the bench when he fell. That or the pavement he was now sitting on.

The pain was increasing, making his vision blurry. What he wouldn't do for an aspirin right about now, or preferably something stronger.

The blinding light came from a street lamp he'd rolled under when he fell.

The nagging pain in his head was helping to sober him up, but when he tried to stand and walk he could still feel the effects of the alcohol.

He managed to make it another block before collapsing against a brick wall of some old housing.

He sat limp against the wall, clenching his teeth to endure the growing pain in his skull. How hard had he hit his head? Or was this a premature hangover in full effect?

He began to drift in and out of consciousness again. Unsure if it was from the alcohol or his head injury.

Deciding that a power nap might be necessary to gain enough energy to make it home, the man fell asleep once more.

This time he was woken up by a wetness touching his arm. He opened his eyes and jumped at the sight of a large American bulldog licking him.

Reacting to the startled man, the dog yelped in fear and clamped down on the arm he was moments ago licking.

The man screamed in pain and clenched his arm where there dog bit him. A sticky moisture filled the gaps in his fingers. It was a lot of blood, probably from the alcohol; and suddenly the pain in his head was no longer a problem.

The white behemoth of a dog plodded away with its tongue dangling out of its mouth.

The man pulled his cellphone out and dialed '911.' He was moments away from hitting the call button when a new idea popped into his head. A beautiful opportunity presenting itself. One he had every intention of taking advantage of.

He exited out of the call and pulled up an app that had recently been updated to his benefit. The updated software now allowed for guest access, keeping him completely anonymous. The update also allowed him to choose a desired driver. It was designed for the regulars who preferred the same driver everyday. 

With a smile on his face he chose the driver he was almost certain would be working tonight.

The app told him he'd be picked up in roughly ten minutes, so he took the time to clean himself as best he could. There was a faucet connected to the house that did wonders to get rid of the blood.

At almost 10 minutes on the dot, the man's Uber pulled up. Not wanting to be recognized, he pulled his hat low and avoided looking at the driver who stole a couple looks at him in the rearview mirror. He looked down as much as he could without it being suspicious. Luckily the city lights cast enough shadow for the man to go undetected.

The man also disguised his voice when he told the driver an address that was within walking distance of where he lived.

When the driver pulled up to the address given, he turned to tell the man to have a goodnight, but the man had already slipped out the door. No exchange of cash necessary, he'd already paid through the app.

As the man walked away he stole a final glance at the Uber. The dark tinted car was off to it's next pickup and the man could hardly believe his plan had actually worked. He truly had the luck of the devil.