Like Wise. A Story. Part 9.

That car belonged to Moses. There were red and blue lights filling the intersection ahead and he decided to avoid the roadblock by taking another street. 

The street was an alley but he figured it would still save him the delay. Which is funny, because he was going nowhere and there was no time he had to get to nowhere but, still, we never like delays. 

He eventually saw the body. It was soaked in blood and, at first, he assumed dead. 

Moses slowed down enough to see the U.S. ARMY shirt, the khaki jeans and the boots. He could see the short hair cut and he could see the clean-shaven face, where there wasn't blood. He could see the chest moving in and out. 

"God help us," he muttered, while trying to decide if he would help God. 

"God help him," he said, obviously deciding God could handle it. 

"And help our nation to see its depravity." 

Moses didn't know that his son had done the damage he was looking at. He didn't know that he himself had done much of the damage to his son. 

Would any of that had mattered? Maybe. Maybe not. 

Either way, Billy tried to moan something but he couldn't. 

He watched the car leave him behind and decided he only had a few more breaths to go. 

Until he heard "What the hell?" and they were some of the best words he had ever heard. Someone else had seen him. 

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