Then—
A red sedan surged up on our left flank.
Too fast.
And slammed directly into the driver’s side door.
Glass shattered instantly.
A spiderweb of fractures exploded across the window before collapsing inward in a spray of shards.
The SUV lurched violently sideways.
Metal screeched as we scraped along the guardrail, sparks bursting outward in a bright, terrifying shower.
The world tilted.
“We are under attack!” the soldier shouted, but even his voice was starting to crack under pressure.
Then—the third car struck.
From behind.
Hard. Deliberate.
The final blow.
The impact shoved us forward with such force that the entire vehicle seemed to snap.
The SUV lost balance completely.
The ground dropped out from beneath us.
Time slowed.
We tipped—
then rolled.
Once.
The roof slammed against concrete.
The sound was deafening.
Metal crushing.
Glass exploding.
My body jolted violently against the restraints, every wound screaming in protest.
We rolled again.
Sideways this time.
The world spinning.
Up became down.
