Ok all, you're about to get a huge dose of hurt Dean. I hope I did ok. Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing. I loves all ya alls.

Chapter 39

We ran straight through until May. Dad decided that he needed a break and wanted to go catch up with an old friend. Deacon was a pretty cool guy. We spent most of the 1st week we were at his place getting drunk and playing poker. That was how dad got his truck.

Deacon had planned on giving the old, beat up thing to dad anyway, but thought it would be more fun to make him earn it. That was the last game we played the end of that 1st week we were there. That game actually lasted 6 hours. Dean and I fell asleep about half way through and when we woke up, dad told Dean to go see what kind of work needed to be done on his truck. He'd forgotten that I liked fixing up cars too.

Dad relearned that little fact real quick though. I guess Dean and I had been outside for 2 hours when dad and Deacon decided to see what was going on. Dean was pulling stuff out of the engine compartment and I was stripping stuff from underneath the truck. Dad and Deacon stood watching us before dad asked what the diagnosis was on his truck.

I climbed out from under the truck and told dad exactly what needed to be done. The engine and transmission were shot. We basically had to gut it out and replace everything but the frame, body, and gas tank. Dean came over to stand next to me after I answered the first question. Dad asked how long we thought it would take to get it running and Dean said that it depended on how long it would take us to find the parts.

Deacon told us he had a new engine for the truck in his garage, it was just missing a few parts. He didn't even know the transmission was screwed. Deacon went into the house to call the guy he'd got the engine from while dad helped Dean and me strip down the truck. It took us another week to finish the truck. By the time the 3 of us were done, the '57 Chevy truck looked brand new.

Dad decided he wanted to take his new toy on a little test run, so we left the Impala at Deacon's and headed north. We were just gonna drive up to Springfield, Illinois and back. Dad and Dean were in the truck and I followed in my Jeep, just in case something went wrong with the truck. We were just outside of St. Louis, Missouri when the most random thing happened.

A guy had been out drinking all night long. He'd come home to find his wife in bed with a truck driver she'd brought home from the truck stop she worked at. He'd killed his wife and the truck driver, took the keys to the semi, and drove to the truck stop. He found the truck and took it for a little drive. He started to drive south, but he was in the north bound lanes.

The semi was being chased by 9 cop cars when it ran into us. Dad swerved the truck to his left to try and avoid hitting it, but the truck swerved to it's right at almost the same time. The semi caught the front right corner of dad's truck and almost cut dad's truck in half. The semi then swerved to it's left and turned dad's truck sideways. Dad's truck rolled over once and came to a stop on it's left side.

I stopped about 50 feet behind dad's truck. I leaned over to unbuckle my seatbelt and saw the semi swerve back. It hit my Jeep and rolled me over down into the ditch. The jeep landed right side up. I shook my head to clear out some of the fog and then finished unbuckling my seat belt.

I climbed out of my Jeep, grabbed my med bag out of the back, and then ran up the hill. I watched as all the cop cars drove around dad's truck and continued on after the semi. None of them bothered to stop and see if we were ok. Dad's truck was blocking both lanes, but luckily none of the cops hit it on their way past. I ran around to the front of the truck and nearly screamed at what I saw.

Dad's face was cut all to hell because he got hit with pieces of the windshield. The passenger side of the truck was completely smashed in and I could barely make out the top of Dean's head. Dad was starting to wake up, so I guided him out of his truck through the hole where the windshield had been. I walked him over to the side of the road and behind the truck so he couldn't see the front of it, then started patching him up as best as I could. He'd had a concussion for sure, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist.

I set his wrist and then splinted it. He kept asking me about Dean, but I wouldn't answer him. I had just finished bandaging his head when a cop finally pulled up. The cop asked if there was anyone else in the truck and I told him that my brother was sitting on the passenger side. He shook his head and then asked about my Jeep sitting in the ditch.

I told him that the Jeep was mine. He asked if I was ok, and I said I was fine. At least I thought I was. I couldn't feel any pain anyway. I asked the cop to stay with dad while I went to check on my brother. I also told him not to say anything about Dean and he said ok.