When Zachary Martinez awoke in Sharp Memorial in late August, he wasn’t sure where he was or how he’d gotten there. Martinez spotted his mom and asked what was going on. She said he’d been in a car accident, and his first thought was, “I need to call Austin and tell him what happened.” Austin Machitar was Martinez’s partner at the San Diego Police Department. Then someone explained that Machitar was dead, and Martinez wondered if he’d be able to go back to being an officer. The fact that Martinez even had that choice to make is somewhat of a miracle. Around 11:30 p.m. on Aug. 26, someone reported a speeding BMW headed east on Clairemont Mesa Boulevard. Police initially pursued the driver, but a supervisor quickly called them off because of how fast the other vehicle was going. Martinez and Machitar were on their way to the call when the BMW slammed into the side of their car. Machitar, 30, was killed. Martinez, 27, was thrown from the vehicle. His neck broke. His brain bled. Multiple ribs were fractured, as were his cheekbones. One of the first officers who got to the scene thought he was dead. Yet Martinez was back on patrol this weekend, and he addressed reporters Sunday outside the department’s Northern Division headquarters in full uniform, a Taser on his belt and a radio slung over his chest. The only obvious mark from the crash was mottled purple skin pulled tight across the top of his left hand. Martinez doesn’t remember the collision. He barely remembers the day. He’s got a vague memory of going with a roommate to look at a truck before the shift, and of responding to a call at a motel with Machitar, but both seem almost too mundane to be in the same day that ended his partner’s life. Martinez does recall being on the ground, surrounded by a strange mix of darkness and light, and asking God that he be given a second chance. Martinez spent more than a week in San Diego hospitals before receiving additional treatment, including physical therapy and burn care, in his hometown of Lubbock, Texas. Once he regained his bearings, it wasn’t hard to recommit to the police department. He’d dreamed of being an officer ever since he was a kid, and one of the reasons he liked his job was Machitar, who’d helped train him and brought a lightness to every shift. He now wears a black wristband with Machitar’s name on it. “I wish I would have said ‘thank you’ again,” Martinez said. “He had taught me a lot.” He praised everyone from the mayor and police chief to his colleagues and neighbors for their ongoing support. The accident also took the life of the driver, 16-year-old Edgar Giovanny Oviedo. “I forgive him,” Martinez said. “This job, you see people that may not have the best intentions, they may not have done the best thing, but I gain nothing from holding a grudge against somebody.” “I hope he’s at peace,” Martinez added. Staff writer Teri Figueroa contributed to this report.