Me or them

The nightmare was the kind that seemed so real, so vivid, for a while after I woke up, I believed it was true. I really thought it had happened. The worst kind, I have been able to adjust, and realize, usually during the night mare, that, a dream was all it was, and sorry if pull myself out of it, or pull myself awake. That's what it feels like anyway. We were in my dad's old truck. A 94 plum purple Ford ranger, the cab with the fold down jump seats in the back, and bench seat up front. Not exactly an off road truck, per se, but the stock six banger, served us well till the end, even running on fumes. At first the scariest thing about the dream was my cousins driving, Steven has always been the evil kenivel type, and he was right at home. Maybe it just seemed this way, but it's like we were on a supercross track, semi oval, with hills steep enough to get a little air off of. It all seemed so feesable at the time. We were up front, and you were behind him in the back , on one of the jumpers. Like I was saying, his driving was the scariest party so far, we had done a couple of laps, nearly missing what seemed like every tree, on every left turn, when we hit it. I knew before it all registered in my mind what we had hit. There is only one thing that makes that noise when you hit it with a truck, and it's a living person. I knew by the sound what we had hit. He stopped, we all stared at each other in disbelief, as the shush and blood, smeared across the windshield, by the struggling wipers. He rolled down his window to look outside, the side one's we're all fog and slush covered, as the snow was falling in huge wet slushy flakes, fast. It couldn't have been a full minute of silence, and he was suddenly, very violently, ripped from the cab, via the window he rolled down. Instinct kicked in, and I was in his spot, rolling up the window. I told you to slide to the middle, as u put it in gear, locked my door, and smashed the gas pedal, while telling you to lock yours. You were done already. The tires had no purchase in drive, so I hit reverse, and back and forth until we gained enough to get moving. Hands or fists we're banging on both of our windows as we slowly gained speed. I couldn't see, so I rolled mine back down enough to peer out of, while I tried to keep to the gravel road we were on. We made it about a quarter of a mile down the road, my driving just as hazardous as his, but the gas I didn't have, saved me from hitting something or someone. The thought just getting to me that, whoever it whatever he hit, probably.... Yeah, with the forward, reverse, repeat...ewww. Through the crack in my window, in one if the trees I didn't hit, ahead of us, we watched in silence as a mom of slow moving people, threw a rope over a branch, and strung my cousin up in a hangman's noose, the old school illegal kind. They hung him, and then they set him on fire,Dousing him in gasoline. Now the walked towards us. I just stared into your eyes.I knew it already, but I made a show of having hope. The mob moved slow but fast, gaining in your fast. I rummaged around the truck looking for an answer that wasn't there, finally, pulling the heckler and Koch .44 from under the seat. The semi auto, in true nightmare fashion, had one in the chamber, that's it. Weird, i know. Creepy.i looked at you for a minute, vomited. Then vomited again. I barely had time to ask you the question, me or them. I never heard the shot, as you pulled your own insurance from your purse and used the Derringer to take the burden from me. Before you fired I did hear you say, I love you this much.