Everything smelled like burnt rubber as Dave doubled over behind the police car. A mushy mesh of orange juice and half-digested bagel spewed from his lips and splattered across the dirt. Lynn rubbed his shoulder, and he tried to take a breath, but all he could muster was a cough followed by another burst of vomit. A thin layer of brown sludge covered the SCMPD emblem on the side of their car. Hopefully no one would notice.

“Jesus,” Dave said, wiping the tears from his eyes. His legs shuddered. “Christ, Christ. Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” Lynn’s meaty hand felt like a paddle clapping against his back. “Better out than in. Just mind the uniform, yeah? Don’t matter if you’re filthy; you’re gonna be wearing that shirt all day.”

Just the thought of sitting in that ninety degree heat all day was enough to make Dave nauseous again. He wiped his lips with a napkin and followed Lynn back to the scene.

Yet, it took only one glance at the ambulance parked in the breakdown lane for his knees to quiver again.

He couldn’t understand why they were still here. What could a paramedic do for a guy whose brain lay splattered across a highway?

But still the paramedics stood there, looming over the ghost-white sheet. The two of them, they were—they were smiling. Laughing. Joking around with the investigators while some kid’s corpse rotted beneath them.

Some kid. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Where was Dave at nineteen? At home playing Goldeneye with his sister. But this kid didn’t have a head anymore. How could you play Goldeneye without a head? Did this kid have a sister? How loud would she scream when she found out about this?

“Davey?” asked Lynn, waving a hand in front of his face. “You in there, hun?”

He didn’t know. Watching the paramedics laugh, Dave felt for a moment like his own brain had been taken out, leaving his head an empty shell.

“I’m fine,” Dave said. Brain juice boiled on the tar beneath his feet. “Fine.”

"Mm." Lynn hopped up onto the trunk of their car. “I sure hope so. I hate to be blunt, but this ain’t gonna be the last motorcyclist you see become roadkill.”

“I’m sorry I’m not as happy as all of you,” Dave said, voice low.

“Hey, don’t get snippy!” Lynn said, flicking his shoulder. “I’m not happy. I’m just not gonna let this ruin my day. I let my guard down, and we’re gonna be seeing a lot more roadkill.”

“So, what?” Dave hopped up onto the trunk beside her. “We just let our guard down? Is that it?”

Lynn shrugged. “Eh. Can’t save ‘em all.”

“Can’t—? What the fuck does that mean?” Dave grasped at his chest until he found his badge. “We’re friggin’ cops! Our job is saving people.”

“Davey, please.” Lynn smirked. “You’re a good kid, but you really gotta take a Xanax or something. You spend every day worrying about every poor shmuck that loses their head on this highway, and you’re not gonna last a month.”

He snorted. “Well, I’m sorry for giving a—”

“No.” Lynn put up a hand. “Don't try that on me again.”

“You’re telling me not to care!” Dave shouted. “How the hell am I supposed to do that? Just shut off my brain?”

“I’m saying no such thing.” Amy shook her head. “All I’m saying is that you ain't Superman. If some stupid kid’s speeding down the highway at a hundred miles an hour with no helmet, sometimes it don’t matter what you do; that kid’s gonna die.” She sighed. "There's millions of car accidents every year. You seriously think we can stop every single one? This shit's a routine."

Dave gripped the trunk beneath him, paying no mind to the heat of the sun-baked metal. Lynn's words rang through his mind, and for a moment he could see the whole of that highway, except there were no cars, only wrecks. Trucks smashing into minivans smashing into buses. Limp carcasses thrown across pavement. He imagined the parents sitting at home, a son, a daughter, a chunk of their life snatched away in broad daylight. And the hundreds of cars bottlenecking by—would they care? Who cares for the roadkill?

He felt the bile rising. "So what do I do?"

Lynn patted him on the back. "You do your best."

Dave watched as the paramedics hefted the kid's body into their ambulance. The world kept driving by.