Chapter 3 - Off the Edge
"They're following us!" I yelled, turning around in the seat.
A massive black Cadillac Escalade was riding our rear bumper, its heavy chrome grill filling the entire back window. Through the tinted glass, I could see the silhouette of two men. The truck didn't just tail us; it lurched forward and slammed directly into our rear bumper.
WHAM!
The impact jerked my head forward. The Civic skidded across the slick asphalt, the tires losing grip over a patch of wet leaves before Mara counter-steered with a desperate grunt.
"Lock your door!" she yelled. "Get down in the footwell! Put your head between your knees!"
"Mom, they're trying to push us off!"
"Do what I told you!"
I slid down onto the floor mat, tucking myself beneath the glove compartment, smelling damp carpet and fear. Up above me, the world was pure chaos—the relentless thump-thump of the wipers, the scream of the four-cylinder engine redlining, and the terrifying crunch of heavy American steel hitting our tiny compact car again.
BANG.
The rear windshield blew inward. A shower of safety glass rained down over my back and hair. Cold air and road spray roared through the cabin like a hurricane.
"David... Julian, please," Mara muttered under her breath, a broken, desperate prayer. "Not like this."
We hit the steep S-curves of Blackwood Ridge—the exact stretch of mountain highway where Dad’s truck had gone through the guardrail four years ago. The road was narrow, bordered on the left by sheer, jagged rock and on the right by a three-hundred-foot drop into the raging river below.
The Escalade pulled up along our left side, trying to box us into the flimsy metal barrier on the edge of the cliff.
The tinted window of the SUV rolled down an inch. The barrel of a heavy handgun poked through.
"Get down!" Mara shrieked, throwing her right arm across my back to pin me to the floor.
A sharp crack echoed over the roar of the engine. Our front left tire blew out with a violent pop.
The Civic instantly lost all steering. The steering wheel spun wildly out of Mara’s grip. The car whipped sideways, smashed through the rusted guardrail like it was made of tin foil, and for one terrifying, weightless second... there was no sound of tires on asphalt.
Just the howl of the wind.
Then we hit the first row of pine trees below the cliff edge, rolling over and over in a sickening kaleidoscope of crunching metal, shattering glass, and blinding darkness.
When the car finally stopped, it was wedged upside down between two massive boulders, the engine hissing white steam into the freezing rain.
"Mom?" I whimpered, blood trickling into my left eye. "Mom, wake up..."
May you like
She didn't answer. She was hanging limp in her seatbelt, her head tilted at an unnatural angle, blood dripping from her hairline onto the roof of the car.
Above us, up on the broken highway, a car door slammed. Heavy footsteps began crunching down the muddy embankment.
