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The first hill came up fast. Shit, I was going to have to slow down a bit.

I slammed my hand against the wheel.

“Fuck!” I didn’t want to slow down. But I knew this stretch, a long steep grade that bottomed out in a sharp right turn. I always downshifted here, using engine braking to control my speed.

I tapped the brake pedal.

Nothing.

This time I pressed against it instead of tapping.

Nothing.

I pressed harder, pumping the pedal. My truck continued accelerating down the hill, picking up speed with every yard.

Sixty-five.

Seventy.

The speedometer climbed as gravity took over.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I pumped the brakes again. The pedal went straight to the floor with no resistance. No pressure. No stopping power.

Think, Wallace.

Seventy-five miles per hour down a steep grade with a sharp turn at the bottom.

I yanked the emergency brake. The truck shuddered, rear wheels locking briefly before the cable snapped with a sharp twang that I felt through the floorboard.

“Motherfucker!”

Eighty miles per hour.

The curve was rushing toward me like a wall. I could see the guardrail, the steep drop beyond it into a ravine thick with trees.

I downshifted hard, jamming the transmission into second gear. The engine screamed in protest, RPMs redlining as I tried to use engine braking. The truck slowed slightly, but not nearly enough.

Eighty-five.

The curve was there. I had maybe three seconds to decide my next move.

Take the turn at that speed and inevitably roll the truck?

Aim for the guardrail and hope it held?

Aim for the trees and pray the thick oak trunks would stop me before the ravine without killing me on impact?

Trees.

The best bad option.

I cranked the wheel hard right, feeling the truck start to slide. The rear end broke loose, and suddenly I was sideways, skidding toward the tree line at probably a hundred miles per hour. Time slowed down. I could see individual leaves on the oak branches rushing toward my driver's side window.

The impact, when it came, was like being hit by a freight train.

The first tree caught the truck's rear quarter panel, spinning it like a top. Metal screamed against bark. Glass exploded inward as the side windows imploded. The second tree hit the driver's door with a sound like thunder, crushing steel and sending a shock wave through my entire body.

My ribs. One. Two. I felt them snap. Pain exploded through my chest, white-hot and consuming. My head whipped sideways, cracking against something hard. Stars exploded behind my eyes.