Covered in some guy's brains

For a fiction blog, I haven't posted much of my own lately. Here is one of my favorite excerpts from my novel Correction Line.
Blood mixed with humour, a combination I like.

Have a great weekend!

Correction Line

"Pull over, pull over – c’mon!"

"You’ll be fine."

"I won’t be fine! Pull over the car!"

Lawrence eased off the gas and edged the Pontiac to the shoulder. Before it came to a complete stop, Curtis was out the door and on his knees retching. With one hand he braced himself against the road; the other cradled his stomach. The left side of his windbreaker and his jeans were caked with blood. The driver shut off the headlights and watched the reflection of the moon shimmer on the shiny material of the retching man’s jacket. He tapped his fingers incessantly on the steering wheel.

"Curtis. We need to leave."

A stir came from the back of the car. The large man reached over the seat and helped the woman sit up.

"Lawrence?"

"Hello, Lucy."

Curtis was down to dry heaves now. He stood, spat twice on the ground as a final punctuation and turned back to the car. Before he got in, he took off his windbreaker and tried to wipe off some of the bloody matter on his jeans – all he managed was some of the larger bits. He shuddered, rolled his windbreaker into a tight ball and drew it back, preparing to hurl it into the ditch.

"Curtis. You don’t want to do that. Get back in the car."

Curtis stopped, mid-wind up, he looked like a freeze frame cartoon figure. He lowered his arm and dejectedly tossed the jacket into the open door. He kicked the windbreaker under the seat and slunk into the Pontiac.

He let loose a torrent of words. "Damn, Lawrence, this has gotten too intense for me – I mean – look at me! I’m covered in some guy's brains. I’ll see that guy’s face being blown apart in my dreams. For years. Sure, I’ve done some stuff, but nothing like this, nothing at all – " Curtis looked at the woman. "Hi." He turned back to the driver. "I’m done, I’m really done. You need to drop me somewhere. That son-of-a-bitch slammed me hard with that bat – my guts don’t feel right at all. I need some sort of doctor or medical attention or just – " he stopped and twitched his head toward the backseat.
"She been awake for long?"

"Close the door."

Comments

[mark heath]

Yeeha and woohoo! Loved it. I especially liked the part where the guy is about to throw away his incriminating jacket. It felt very real. What's up with the novel? Are you still sending it out?