The churning in her stomach did not make any sense; it started out of the blue when they went returning. She had just eaten, it was her turn to cook and she brought in some beef vegetable soup she had made herself.
It was several miles of mountain scenery till they would reach the edge of town so she tried in vain to relax and enjoy it. She was born and raised on a farm in Pennsylvania and then spent summers on a ranch with her paternal grandparents on the reservation. She was never comfortable in the city or even larger towns.
Then she saw a mustang on the upper side of the mountain, it was almost as if it were watching her. At that moment she flashed back to a lesson that her Sioux Grandfather had taught her.
He was telling her about animals and what lessons they could teach and how they could represent phases in our lives.
"Lala, what does the mustang represent?" When on the reservation, she mostly spoke only in Lakota.
"It can represent dangers that are laying a head. The animals can speak to us if we are open to hear them, Winona." That was a nick name that her grandparents often used, translated it meant 'first born daughter.
In a rush of memories and realization, it came to her. This is my dream...instantly her entire body was tingly, with the adrenaline that began coursing through her veins. She began watching the road intently to see if she could notice any other oncoming vehicles on the road. What was she going to tell Brice, exactly? That he should stop the squad and do a Chinese fire drill on a narrow dirt road? When he asked why, her best answer would be, because I've dreamed it before? Oh, and it was confirmed by a horse! She had gained his respect but who was she kidding, he would probably ask Rampart to make the rubber room nice and comfy for her.
They were on the outside of a bend in the road, when all her fears were acknowledged. Seemingly out of no where appeared this little convertible and it were coming straight for them, driving in the wrong lane! Brice had few options open to him. If he steered left he would plow head on into the side of the mountain. The road was barely wide enough for two normal sized vehicles and the squad was wider across. Going to the right of the vehicle had its own risks, the road dropped off steeply. However it was the only chance of avoiding a head on collision with the car.
In a state of shock himself, Brice cranked the steering wheel to the right, hoping that at the last second the other car would swerve the opposite direction, giving him the room to maneuver around it. Not only did that not happen, the driver actually kept swerving in and out of their path!
Then both of them felt the tires spin when the ground under them shifted, the passenger side tires were balancing on the very edge of the roadway. The dirt underneath began to crumble under the extreme weight of the truck. This all occurred in less than a minute, though in seemed to last for an eternity.
Both partners glanced at each other as if saying goodbye. Their eyes met as the apparatus left the roadway and began its deadly decent down the 30 foot drop of the cliff.