Chapter 1: A.D. 2003 - Goodbye Charles

Thursday July 3rd 2003

The twenty-four year old was looking forward to the day off tomorrow, but his long week-end was ruined by the Personnel Department. Sorry, it’s known as ‘Human Resources’ now. That’s what he had become, a resource like I.T or some of the steel piping that was procured, just another resource! It had changed in the three years since he had arrived from college – for the worse.

Ever since the young female manager had been appointed, his efforts to complete his tasks within the given week had become impossible. Who the Hell decided that non-engineers should decide the schedules of engineers? Mad! Only an idiot would have timed him to arrive at sites five hundred miles away for eight o-clock meetings. Then the new regulation called on weekly inspections of every site. It entailed work on a Saturday. Now, he ended up travelling for five hours to carry out a one hour inspection! He knew damn well he would be expected to finish checking the sites after the 4th. Anticipating another all-day stint, he was pigged off.

And that was the polite way of putting it!

He tried to dismiss his grievances and peered through the steadily beating wipers, now speeding up. They offered a distracting beat as they forced a short-lived window of visibility through the beating rain. Now he imposed his way into an impatient unselfish line onto the throughway, he was pleased to leave the queuing that had held him on the on-ramp for fifteen minutes. He was obliged to increase his own speed to the velocity of the accompanying traffic and he concentrated on the growing density of eager commuters to be the first. The first for what? Each vehicle was setting up sheets of spray as if trying to beat the arrival of the holiday. It took all his concentration to move over, ensuring he got into the left-hand lane where the routes diverged. He needed to take the viaduct branch.

Once in the flow, he reduced speed, now more conscious of his safety. Concentrating through the open heavens beating down and the swathes of surface water being thrown up at him, he focussed on keeping a safe distance from the vehicle ahead. He cussed as the driver behind him took it in his or her mind to overtake the 18 Wheeler. The large trailer unit’s wheels continually threw up an opaque shower of grease-ridden dirt that insisted on covering his windscreen. The SUV, meanwhile, erratically swerved out, the driver more intent on concentrating on the cell phone than safety. ‘They ought to ban them while driving, probably would, given a couple of years,’ Charles considered.

The fool saw the crawling congestion in the overtaking lane far too late but was proud of his skilful driving accomplishments. Swerving immediately in front of the heavy articulated vehicle, he managed to avoid a skid on the treacherous surface. The SUV hardly reduced speed but began to weave through a half a dozen vehicles. He hardly noticed imperceptibly ‘nudging’ one car that idled along in the ‘fast’ lane. The mudguard had been bent before. So what?

Its female driver was caught out unexpectedly and the contact only threw her out by a few inches. It was enough to bounce her offside front wheel against the raised kerb of the central reservation. The front of her vehicle rose high up into the air with the tyre’s explosion and the vehicle started to cartwheel across both traffic lanes and hard shoulder, ignoring the high guard rail, as it continued to twist in the air.

Amid squealing brakes some worried travellers stared in horror as it appeared to stop mid-air as if deciding on its next move. Then, it continued on its way now changing direction. Still cartwheeling through the incessant sheets of rain it dropped now beside the viaduct, out of view. It fell over three hundred feet down to the base of the valley.

Yet in the brief point of time that Cassandra de Witt was suspended by her seatbelt as the car hung in suspension high up, level with the carriageway of the steep bridge, the mini-second expanded into a whole aeon for the doomed driver. She knew the fall could only result in death at best and at worst she had her last seconds before becoming a coma victim or a paraplegic for the rest of her life. That was being optimistic.

Surprisingly, she was quite calm when her thoughts were interrupted. She was granted the one opportunity to continue her existence and Cassandra snatched at the chance eagerly. Logic played no part in the mental exchange which took place mid-air. From the proffering of the offer to her questioning all the ramifications, she appeared to have adequate time to make an informed decision to accept the proposal.