There was blood in the middle of the road. A lot of it. So much blood that it could be considered 'pooled'--within the cracks of the asphalt. It filled potholes with dark liquid that, it being night, made it appear as though the old mountain road had been recently repaired.
     There was so much blood that I begged Benjamin not to turn the car around to look at it-- only I forgot to use words to beg him-- I vibed him. I stared. I shook my head-- but his eyes were focused on the scene and he leaned forward over the steering wheel to squint at it from behind his glasses.
     "What the fuck..."
     He put the car in park and turned to me.
     "You stay in here. Lock the doors. If I'm not back in ten minutes--call for help."
     "We're halfway between Bremerton and nowhere, Ben. There isn't cell phone reception."
     He shot me a dirty look as though I, myself, had created this obstacle.
     "Okay-- if I'm not back in twenty minutes drive back to my parents house and get my dad. Good?"
     "Yeah," I agreed but in an empty way because I knew that I'd never be able to find my way back to his parents house-- especially not in the dark.
     I half-heartedly prayed for his safe return while he was gone.
     I wasn't sincere in my bargaining with God simply because, despite the large quantity of blood on the ground, I refused to accept that there was anything wrong.