The bridge was blocked. Harry Morrison threw his hands on the steering wheel and let loose a low growl. He was trapped. Behind him were two killers. In front of him was a raging river.
Turning his head to the left, Harry noted a tree line that might afford him some cover. Jumping from the car, he made a dash for it. It was the only hope he had for survival. As he ran his mind raced with the day’s events.
The morning started off horribly and slowly progressed to something even worse. He’d lost his job and his wife threatened to leave him when he called to break the news. That’s when he decided to go for a drive. Unfortunately he got lost, ending up in the seamy underbelly of the city.
When he stopped for directions to get back to the main highway, Harry witnessed two men chasing a svelte blonde down the alley. A shot rang out and before he could do anything to help the woman, she fell dead only a few feet from his vehicle.
Worried that the killers might see him, Harry ducked down in his car. It seemed to work at first. He heard the men talking but they gave no indication they knew of his presence.
Sadly, Harry looked out before the men were gone. When he did, he found himself staring into the black eyes of a cold-blooded killer. That’s when he pushed his started button, gunned the car and roared away. The men followed in hot pursuit.
The car chase went on for some time before Harry took a side road, hoping to cross the bridge and take another back way into a neighboring city. Most people didn’t know about the road. He figured if he could get there, he’d be home free. That’s when he found the closed bridge.
Harry found himself getting winded quickly as he ran. Suddenly he wished he’d taken those aerobics classes his wife suggested. He wasn’t physically fit and he knew it.
Footfalls were closing in quickly behind him. One of the killers shouted out, “Give it up, buddy. You’re a dead man.” Harry knew that was likely true one way or the other.
A searing pain shot down Harry’s left arm. His breath became labored. He legs grew rubbery. He couldn’t run much longer. That’s when he began to pray.
“Lord, help me please. I want to get justice for that poor woman. Show me how to survive so that I can.”
A wave of something electric exploded from Harry’s chest. He fell to the ground dead. His heart gave out before his mind or his heart could.
The killers approached, laughing as they saw the dead body. “He saved us a lot of trouble,” the man with the gun laughed. He kicked at the body while smirking with self-satisfaction.
“Come on. Let’s go,” said his friend. He turned and started back to the car. That’s how he missed what happened next.
Harry’s soul floated free of his body. It looked down upon the killer with pity. Then, unexpectedly, it floated into the man’s body; stifling the crippled and withered soul of that human being.
A pang of something he’d never felt before hit the killer hard in the gut. He didn’t know what it was but he knew he didn’t like it. It hurt. He made him want to cry. He made him experience regret.
Over the course of the next few days, while the police searched for Harry Morrison, his soul went to work inside the killer’s body. It taught the man about compassion. It taught him about remorse. It made him feel for the first time in his life. The transformation was painful but redeeming.
On a cold Friday morning, Brandon Michaels turned himself into the police. He told them where to find his accomplice and how to locate Harry’s body. He told them every crime he’d ever committed. The exercise was liberating.
After the two men were convicted and sentenced to life in prison, Harry Morrison’s soul finally found peace. He hadn’t saved the woman. However, he had saved someone and that was good enough.
Finally free, Harry’s soul floated to heaven where it earned its final rest. There to greet him at the gate was the woman whose murder he had witnessed. She moved forward to embrace him.
“Thank you,” she said with a sweet smile. “Thank you for saving my brother.”