Page 119 of Preacher Man

She loved her movie quotes so much maybe he could say;I’m just a boy standing in front of a girl asking her to like him.He’d lose all his man-cards, but hey, if it pleased the tiny dancer.

And that happy freaky weird thought was about as far as Preacher got as he stepped into the main room to claim a kiss from his lady, someone swept in from the main entrance, and two things happened at once. The door crashed against the metal of the doorstopper, clanging it on an echoed loop, making it sound like a fucking bomb going off, and from the compound parking lot was the backfire of some bastard’s car, logically he knew it was just a customer pulling into the shop parking bay with a car that needed some resuscitation, but there was nothing logical in just how he came to an unnatural stop, bones, and muscles freezing in mid-step because all Preacher could hear was rapid gunfire, all he could feel was the shudders of bombs under his feet.

Oh, fuck, no.

No. No. No. Please. No.

It was in his head, in his pores, he tasted the pain and the anguish and the sheer terror pulsing through his veins.

It was real. It was so fucking real and he couldn’t blink it away this time.

His ordinary environment with backfiring cars and slamming doors had knocked on his neurosis’ door and triggered an episode unlike anything he’d had in such a long time he’d stupidly, ignorantly assumed he was past the worst of his issues.

But here they were waving their freak flags in the air.

Bile sped up his windpipe, grease churned in his belly, sweat broke out all over him. There was no fucking air in the atmosphere.

And the thing was, while he was mid-panic, sweat beading on his face and neck, his fists clenched hanging like loose branches at his sides, his mind recreating the most terrible time of his life, Preacher was cognizant of just who was a couple of feet away, and was powerless to do anything about it.

All that could be heard within the lock of his own mind was pandemonium.

Trapped.Trapped.

Heat burned. Fire stained his brain. Bullets and shrapnel, he felt it all in phantom pain with the beat of the sun rays and bullets dropping at his feet.

“No,” he hissed.Not, not here, please. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his vision, this can't occur, no, fucking no ... but it was beyond useless. This was going to happen. It was already happening.

The fire burned in his lungs and it was the worst possible time for it. Preacher started churning in air, growing dizzy, any second now the fucking buzzing in his head will come. It always comes and there's not a thing he can do about it. The equilibrium will take him off his feet. And if he doesn’t puke it’ll be a miracle.

Had he mentioned it was the worst possible fucking time?

"Rider." He choked out. His prez had been across the room just a bit ago and was in front of him in a second. “Rider.” Voice strangled, pleading. Flashes behind his eyeballs. "Get her … getherout of here." The last rational part of his brain working before he went down to his knees.

That darkness mid-step setting into his brain.

How fucking long was it now? More than a year since his last episode.

Not now, you fucker.

Reasoning with himself wouldn't help. Already his own psychosis had turned enemy on him, placing him on dirt and sand, the sun blistering his skin off. The survival pack on his back heavy.

No. don't show me. Please.

"I'm here, buddy." Grinder.

He had to roll with it, because what fucking choice did he have.

He couldn't breathe. Dizziness assaulted him.

And then the memories became real. He couldn't distinguish where he was anymore.

He fought the arms around him. Had to save Shane.

That same scene over. The shack blew up not thirty yards from him, the blast of it shot him back right into their own jeep breaking every one of his ribs, blew his helmet off his head, the thing saved him, fucking saved him, his spine almost breaking in half as he struggled to his feet. the shock of it. The altogether fucking shock. Every heartbeat almost broke him apart. Rapid thumps under his ribs.

No. No. Shane. SHANE IS IN THERE!

“SHANE!! SHANE!!! NO!”

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