Charade by Sandra Brown

tried roller blading. It looks dangerous." "That's what my mom says, but I think by Christmas she'll come around. She's so glad I can finally do normal stuff that she's a real soft touch." Jerry gave the display one last covetous glance before moving on. "What do you mean, 'do normal stuff?" "What? Oh, nevermind." "Sorry. I didn't mean to butt into private matters." Jerry hadn't intended to give offense. But he'd been a geek for so many years, and was so glad no longer to be one, that he hated reminders of his infirmity. "It's just that, see, I was sick when I was a kid. I mean, real sick. From age five until last year. In fact, it'll be a year tomorrow. Mom's having a big party to celebrate it." "Celebrate what? If you don't mind my asking." They'd reached the exit doors. The guard on duty was slumped on a bench, sound asleep. Jerry faced his new friend, his face filled with doubt. "If I tell you, promise you won't think I'm a dork." "I won't think you're a dork." "Well, some people get really weird about it." Jerry took a quick breath. "I had a heart transplant." The declaration was met with a guffaw of disbelief. "Yeah. Right." "Swear. I almost died. They got a heart for me just in time."
    "You're serious? No shit? Jesus Christ." Jerry laughed. "Yeah. My folks firmly believe He had something to do with it. Come on." He pushed the door open and was confronted by a cold, damp wind. "Aw, hell. It's raining again. Every time it rains this hard, the creek out by our place floods. Where's your car?" "That way." "Mine's in that area, too. Want me to walk with you?" "No. Just pull up in front of Sears. I'll follow you from there." Jerry gave a thumbs-up sign, pulled his windbreaker up over his head, and charged into the downpour. He didn't see his companion glance back at the sleeping guard. Following the successful surgery, the Wards had bought Jerry a brand-new compact pickup. He proudly swung it into the lane in front of Sears, tooted the horn twice, and watched in his rearview mirror as the other car pulled up behind him. He sang along with the radio and added a few bass percussion sounds as he negotiated the familiar streets that led from the Memphis suburbs to a rural area. He kept his speed moderate so as not to outdistance the car following him. If one didn't know his way around in this neck of the woods, it was easy to get lost after dark. As he neared a narrow bridge, Jerry reduced his speed. Just as he'd predicted, the creek below was running swift and high. He'd almost reached the middle of the bridge when his pickup was rammed from behind. "What the--" Jerry was pitched forward by the impact, but his seatbelt restrained him. Then he was slammed backward by the recoil, and it felt like someone had driven a hot spike through the back of his neck. He cried out in pain and reflexively reached for his neck. Just as he let go of the steering wheel, the other vehicle gave his rear bumper another vicious nudge. Wood splintered and snapped as the pickup crashed through the rickety barricade. For only an instant the small truck was airborne, then the grille splashed into the swirling, dark waters. Within seconds the swift current was slapping against the windshield. Screaming hoarsely, Jerry groped for the seatbelt release. It sprang open and he was free. In the darkness he searched for the door handle
    and tugged on it, frantically, before remembering that the doors were automatically locked while the engine was running. Shit. He felt water closing over his knees. He raised his legs and kicked at the driver's window, kicked with all his might, until the glass cracked. But it was the force of the water that finally broke the glass. Gallons of creek water gushed in, instantly filling the cab of the truck. Jerry held his breath, although he realized that his life was over. Death, which he'd miraculously cheated so many times during his youth, was finally claiming him. He was on his way to meet Jesus. More accurately, a virtual