Lance studied the x-ray of his skull. A splatter of light obscured most of the bone. The strangeness didn't end there. Lance could sense a presence at the edge of his mind. Was it connected to the dream and the x-ray? "So what's the verdict, doctor?"
Dr. Fleury smiled. She flipped her blond hair behind her. "You are the picture of health. I have no idea what the marks on your x-rays are. What do you remember about the accident? Your mother was quite vague."
How should he respond to the question? His mom probably made up a story to cover the orb. The presence gripped the edge of his consciousness. "I remember a moose ran in front of us. Mom swerved to avoid it."
"Your mother said it was a deer..."
"Moose and deer are in the same family. She's been calling them deer for as long as I've know her."
"If you say so," Dr. Fleury said. She did not sound convinced. "Was your mother drinking..."
Lance leaped off the examination table and headed to the door. "My mom just got her blue chip from her al-anon group. She goes to her meetings. We live in Alberta. Moose play in traffic all the time." He twisted the metal knob, "If that will be all, I'd like to go home now."
***
On the way back to their house in Grande Prairie, Lance saw four cop cars on patrol. It wasn't unusual with spring break on the horizon. Seniors and college students often drove drunk. A few kilometers later, three military vehicles rolled by them.
"Mom, what happened when I was out?" Lance asked.
"I don't know. I know we weren't the only accident on the highway that night." She bowed her head, "When you were out, I went to a bar. I ordered a drink and stared at it for hours."
"But you didn't drink?"
"No I didn't."
"Please don't ruin your life because of me."
A soft smile appeared on Lydia's lips as she spoke. "I've lost so much..." Her hand trembled. "I almost let you down."
Lance put a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay."
The car ground to a halt as a jet-black creature with bright red eyes hopped in front of the car. The long rabbit ears flattened against its fur, and its size changed. Long curved horns sprouted from its head, while paws became hands. Abigail put the car in reverse and tried to get away.
The goat man's hooves banged against the hood and left dents in their wake. The presence in the back of Lance's mind forced itself forward. His hand gripped the dash. The vinyl cracked under the power of his grip.
Lance's arm flew to the door and forced it open. Abigail gripped him and tried to hold him back. "What are you doing?"
The smell of electricity filled Lance's nostrils. The presence urged him to face the creature. "I don't know." He attempted to close the door, but the goat-man grinned and tore it off the hinges. Chunks of metal clattered against the ground.
Spindly fingers reached for the teen in the passenger seat. Abigail dropped the car into park and started to walk around the SUV. "You won't take him from me." her voice screeched.
A light glow surrounded Lance's body. His anger held him in a chokehold. He gripped the creature with one hand and slammed its ugly head against the car. Blood ran down the front fender. Each blow saw the creature struggle less and less. When it went still, Lance continued his malicious assault.
Abigail grabbed him by the shoulders, "Lance, it's over." He continued. She put her hand on his broad shoulder and pulled his pack. "Lance, the creature is dead."
The fog in Lance's mind lifted, and he released his victim. Slush splashed against his boots. He stared at his hands, "I didn't mean to..."
Abigail hugged him tight and rocked back and forth. "It's okay, baby," her shaky tone and unsteady words didn't convince Jaxson it would be okay.
***
The digital clock said it was three in the morning. Lance couldn't sleep. Every time he tried to sleep, his mind jumped straight to the bloodied creature. Why didn't he stop? What was the presence at the edge of his mind? How much of it was him? Was it the presence?
Lance's mind refused to switch off. He left the dark room and decided to get a glass of warm milk. When he reached the first landing, he heard noises.
His mother's voice drifted up the stairs. She didn't sound happy, "Geoffry, why won't you answer? Your son needs you. Something's happening with him, and I can't do this alone. It's about time."
He took a seat at the top of the stairs and listened. He wanted to know if his dad wanted to help him or not.
"He thinks you hate him," Abigail's voice said. "Don't blame me for that. You haven't talked to him in months." her sockless feet slapped against the floor. "Hang on. I'm putting you on speakerphone."
"You're the one who turned him against me, Abby."
"I don't want to play the blame game tonight, Geoff. Something is going on with Lance, and I don't think I can do it alone." Desperation dripped off every word.
"Irma is pregnant, and she needs me. How about you call my boss..."
"Is that why you left? You couldn't wait to start over, could you? Where does that leave Lance..."
"We both know you never wanted me near him in the first place. Everytime I tried..."
"You didn't try, Geoffry."
Lance could bear to hear anymore. One thought ran through his mind as he lay down; He didn't have a father. He crossed his arms and waited until the alarm went off.
His mother made him all his favorite foods, "You and I are playing hooky today..." She saw the discontent in Lance's face. "You overheard the conversation last night, didn't you?"
"You didn't keep him from me. He chose to stay late all those nights. If I mattered at all, he would've tried." Lance formed an idea, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Abigail's face went red, and she hid her smile, "Yes."
"Can I meet her?"
"Are you sure it won't be weird? She's a big city detective."
Lance pulled a thick stack of pancakes onto his plate, "I like her more than dad already. I can't wait."