Over The Edge

The Delirium Threemen

December 2011

Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Universal Studios/Mark VII Productions. Content from the show is the property of the original creators. No copyright infringement intended.

All original characters and story content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.

Parts of this story are based loosely on an actual incident.


Prologue – Chapter 1

Well, let me tell you about the way she looked

The way she acted, the color of her hair

Her voice is soft and cool

Her eyes are clear and bright

But she's not there...

-The Zombies, She's Not There, 1964


The woman with the oversized sunglasses obscuring her face drove along Mulholland Highway after spending her afternoon visiting in Cornell. Her children would be spending the weekend with her mother who lived near one of the wineries there. She was in rush to get back home, she would have the entire evening all to herself until her husband returned tomorrow morning. She decided to take the less congested path home. She continued down the highway until she came up to the sharp turn off onto Stunt Road and proceeded to follow its serpentine path until it met up with Saddle Peak Road. She drunk in the scenery and let the Santa Monica mountain breeze ruffle a few of her long chestnut locks that hung out the back of the lavender scarf she wore to keep her long hair from blowing in her face as she drove.

She enjoyed the solitude as she drove along the deserted stretch of highway. She twisted the knob on the car radio to turn up the volume. strong contralto voice of Grace Slick filled the air. A smile formed on her face as she remembered the last song she sung was a children's one. She was flooded with memories of Woodstock where she had first heard this tune. Jefferson Airplane was onstage and white, sleeveless, jumpsuit-clad Grace wasn't kidding about the 'morning maniac music' as she began pumping up the excited crowd that morning into more of a frenzy at the beginning of their second song. She sang along with the radio drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, relieving that moment in her past.

She could feel the emotional tethers that had begun to bind and slowly suffocate her over the last couple of years loosen their hold. The beat of the music and the singer's voice re-inspiried the freedom she had experienced as a young, idealistic adult. She belted out the tune at the top of her lungs with Grace Slick as best she could, her hands drummed harder on the steering wheel while her head and shoulders moved in tandem with the beat of the music. Alone, she gave into the newly released giddiness of freedom she thought she had lost years ago. She was no vocal pyrotechnician like Grace and she didn't care. Why should she? Nobody was around to inhibit her from breaking loose.

"When the truth is found to be lies and all the joys within you dies. Don't you want somebody to love, don't you need somebody to love, wouldn't you love somebody to love, you better find somebody to love…"

The last time she had felt this way was at Woodstock, dancing to the music. The young man that had spent that weekend in Woodstock with had long ago vanished. At Woodstock. she never really paid attention to the lyrics or meaning of the song. Those were also the days when the lyrics of any song didn't mean much to her. It was the hypnotic vocals of the singer and how her voice wove itself perfectly with instruments onstage that day made this song captivating to her. She let Grace finished the last few lines of the song as she let deeper thoughts take over her mind and body. Her ears seemed to by hearing the actual lyrics now that she was older and could comprehend their meaning. She felt her heart grow heavy. The irony was both her and her husband had become what they protested against during those days as young adults.

Funny, she thought, the man I'm married to bears no resemblance to the carefree youth I married right out of high school. When did he change? When did I change?

She turned down the radio and continued driving…and thinking. She remembered the conversation she had with her husband yesterday morning before he had left for work. She had begged him to find a way to cut back on his hours. She accused him of using work as an escape hatch from the demands of being a husband and father, an accusation she regretted when he returned an angry and hurtful look her way. She knew he was trying to provide her and the children with as much as he could. She just wished he could see it was him they needed more of, not more money and nicer things.

She was aware that they were starting to walk that fine line in the middle of love and resentment. Her husband was confusing love with providing. She sensed he also felt the drifting apart that had started to come between them over the last couple of years. She needed him to open his eyes to the fact that he was becoming a stranger to their children. They required time with him and craved his attention. She longed for the days where her children were younger and he took the time to play with them. These days, they all pussyfooted around the house trying to stay quiet when her husband was home because he was always tired from working long hours and traveling.

She knew the road and destination her marriage was headed for and she didn't like it. She was determined to make use of this weekend while the children were away at her mother's. She was going to do everything in her power to save her marriage and give her children their father back.

She continued driving, navigating several curves in the road successfully until she came upon another set of curves several miles further up the road. The first curve wasn't bad but, on the second she misjudged the sharpness of it. She felt the car skidding on the gravel as her left tires went onto the shoulder of the road causing a cloud of dust. The tires skimmed off the edge of the shoulder and they hung for a split second in the air before the backend of the car tilted downward towards the ravine below. She screamed as she felt the car going downwards. She stopped screaming as the car flipped onto its back flattening the roof before it began to slide down into the ravine. The echo of metal crunching and glass shattering filled the air as the car rolled over several times.

The car came to a rest against a tree which prevented it from falling completely to the bottom of the ravine. The concerto of noise that had begun its decent was slowly fading away to a low hiss of the engine and rattling of a single hub cap on the floor of the dry creek bed at the bottom of the ravine. The hub cap stopped clattering and the car engine shushed to a silence. The ravine was quiet and seamingly peaceful once more. A half hour later, the smallest of death's scavengers buzzed onto the scene and entered the mangled car and was followed shortly by several more companions.

On the road above the cloud of dust had long since dissipated and the view of the ravine looked undisturbed after having completely swallowing up the car. No apparent signs of an accident would be detected by the casual driver cruising along the road. They would be oblivious to the carnage that lay at the bottom of the ravine that was made invisible underneath the canopy of trees and bushes.


Author's Note:

Want Somebody to Love – Jefferson Airplane 1967

No copyright infringement intended on the use of songs in this chapter. Those are the property of the respective artists.