Ghost Reaper Episode 1 by Drew Adams

Chapter 1
     
    A
squeal of tires, whiff of smoke, guardrails, then nothing. Chad knew what lay
beyond the guardrails. A canyon, cliffs, boulders, all on his list of things he
did not want to crash into. The sun was attempting to set, painting a pinkish
hue through the deep valley floor his car was hurtling towards.  
    The
sluggish flight, doomed to last only seconds, hinged Chadwick Alan Dowdry
between fascination and terror. He knew he was about to die. He feared it but
at the same time was thrilled by the surreal mystery of the descent.
    A
large boulder whizzed by in real time. For Chad it was slow enough to observe
the pits and crevices. Then open space with only a ledge jutting out from the
canyon wall threatening to interrupt his plummet into the abyss.
    The
ledge proved to be enough, Chad's slow motion plunge lacked the trajectory to
escape it. The steering wheel he tugged on turned tires gripping only air.
    On
cue, time caught up.
    The
rocky shelf raced towards him.
    He
shut his eyes. Braced for impact.
    A
concussive jolt jarred the car, conducting a massive wave of destructive energy
through the frame of the car into his body from every possible direction.
Diamonds of shattered shatterproof glass exploded towards him, ripping into
clothing and flesh. The silence of the fall was replaced with the shrieking and
groaning of twisted metal joined by the thunderous report of mass and velocity
colliding. Chad didn't see his life flash before his eyes, and he didn't see a
bright light.
    He
was just lying on the ledge, peering over it, watching his demolished vehicle
continue the journey. It struck the canyon floor and burst into flames. Chad
watched with obsessive awe, grateful to be alive, overjoyed to not be in that
car. He stood up and brushed dust from his shirt and jeans. He appeared to have
no injuries, none of the glass remained in his skin. With care he ran his hands
through his hair, finding no debris. He felt his pulse, expecting it to be out
of control, but found that it plodded along as if none of the past eight
seconds had happened.
    I’m
not out of the woods yet.
    Above,
the wall of the canyon, a sheer rocky precipice loomed upward without any break
except the large boulder he had admired on the way down. Climbable, yes, but
not without equipment, and certainly not with darkness following the already
deepening shadows. He was stuck between trying to escape the ledge, or finding
some shelter to endure the night. Spring here in Wyoming meant freezing nights
when good weather prevailed. There was a front, he remembered, approaching from
the northwest, but it wasn’t supposed to get here until sometime tomorrow
evening.
    Or
was it this evening?
    Already
a chill seemed to rise from below where his car still burned. He blew breath
into his hand, but noted no frost. To his right the ledge stretched about a
quarter of a mile, disappearing around a bend, and relatively level. There was
vegetation cropping up, sparse at first, then denser as it curved past the
corner. To his left, a sheer drop.
      “Guess that makes my mind up,” he mused
out loud.
    As
he headed towards the thicket, he scanned the terrain for firewood or anything
else that might be useful, stuffed a couple of sharp-edged rocks into his
pockets, picked up a discarded beer carton and filled it with twigs he found as
he made his way. Light was fading fast, much quicker than he had anticipated.
The chill was still with him, not getting worse, but seemed to encompass his
whole body, inside and out.
    At
the curve at last, Chad whistled.
      “Damn... this would have been a good day
to be in Vegas.”
    A
lot of people, he figured, would not consider driving off a cliff particularly
lucky, but when you considered he survived without a scratch, and now was
looking at a shallow cave tunneled out of the rock, that fortune was on his
side.
    Okay...gotta
crib for the night. Now for a few homey touches.
    He
hacked at some bushes with the sharp rocks managing to