Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

There should be just a few miles left to go.
Dave hadn’t been to his cousin Deven’s new place yet - he had only lived there for about a year. He had the address, but only knew it was a small cabin on a lake, in a town called Baxter in Northern Maine.
They had been close growing up – more like brothers. Dev had moved there to take a job with the U.S Forest Service; something he’d always dreamed of doing. They’d kept in touch but for the last few days, Dave hadn’t been able to reach his cousin. The cell service could be spotty, so not being able to get through wasn’t that unusual.
The text message simply said, “Deven’s in trouble”!
Dave didn’t recognize the number. The 207 area code was right for the entire State of Maine but other than Deven, Dave didn’t know another single soul who lived there.
A wooden arrow nailed to a tree directed him down a dirt road – it read, Deven Rawlings – 12 Sugar Shack Road.
A mile down, Dave spotted Dev’s old 1987 Jeep Wrangler. The driver’s front tire was off and was sitting on the rim. Parking quickly, he ran down to the jeep. Dave saw legs protruding from underneath. It was Deven and he was pinned.
First responders arrived and Deven was transported to the hospital.
Sitting in his hospital bed after being treated, Deven stated that the accident had happened just a few minutes before Dave had arrived. How had Dave Known?
Dave told him about the strange text.
I think I know who did it, said Deven. Just after the accident happened, I heard my grandfather’s voice. He said, Hold on, I’ll get help!”
But Dave – you know my grandfather died five years ago.

299 Words