this van?”
“Mack, your brother wants your advice,” said Cole. “I think that means it’s well below thirty-two degrees in hell.”
Mack came back on the phone. “What’s the traffic like?”
From his place in the center lane, Jake accelerated and squeezed into the left lane, two cars behind the van.
“It’s tight. Every semi-truck in Texas decided to take MoPac tonight.”
“How fast are they going?”
“Up until a few seconds ago, they were about ten miles over the speed limit,” said Jake. “But they just— Wait! I don’t know what they’re doing!”
Logan gripped the door handle, jamming his right foot onto an imaginary passenger-side brake as the van careened back and forth across the lanes like a drunk about to topple over. All around them, brake lights were flashing. Then it made a sharp right turn, veering all the way across to the exit lane, miraculously avoiding a crash.
“Frack! They’re getting off the highway!” Jake slammed to a stop and signaled, as he made a desperate attempt to inch his way across to the exit.
But the van whipped back again, impacting an orange striped barrel at the point of the exit and spinning down the shoulder. As it bounced off the railing and into traffic, a semi-truck rammed the van’s driver’s side and screeched to a halt, obscuring their view of the van.
Logan’s heart tumbled, tears springing to his eyes.
Dear God! Please let her be okay!
Ignoring Jake’s calls, Logan flung his door open and dodged across the now-creeping traffic.
When he rounded the end of the eighteen-wheeler, his chest went tight. The van, lying on its side, the front end crumpled, was on fire.
“Ellery!” he cried.
Though Ellery had intended to use the fire extinguisher as a blunt weapon, she’d realized her odds would be better spraying it at her captors. Evidently confident she was still unconscious, the three non-drivers were intent on watching the side mirrors out the windows. So Ellery crawled as close as possible and squeezed the trigger, the hose aimed at the driver’s face. Her attack was effective… a little too effective.
The driver lost control of the vehicle, which jerked from side to side, tossing the unbelted passengers about like toy dolls. Knocked to the floor, Ellery kept a tight hold on the extinguisher, ready to spray the first person who recovered enough to come at her.
Then came a dizzying spin and a deafening crash. Ellery tumbled, her body impacting the hard metal.
Gingerly testing her limbs, she found all of them were mobile, though her lower right leg throbbed. The van was crumpled in the middle. She barely had room to edge backwards, further hampered by the dress wrapped around her legs. She reached the rear where a space opened up near the doors. She groped for the handle, twisting to push with her foot, but the doors didn’t budge—either locked or damaged. Her knee bumped against something… the fire extinguisher. She made a vain attempt to bust the doors open with the butt of the cylinder, but lacked enough room to swing it with force.
In that moment she caught her first whiff of smoke, along with the pungent odor of gasoline.
Her pulse skyrocketed.
Please, God! Please not again!
In seconds, what little light she had turned hazy, the air stinging her eyes and throat. Terror drove her senseless, and she screamed for help, banging on the door.
“Ellery!”
Logan’s voice? Was it a dream?
“Ellery, are you in there?”
“Logan. Help—” Her words dissolved in a coughing fit.
“Ellery!”
The doors rattled, the entire vehicle shaking.
“It’s jammed!” Logan yelled. “Hang on! We’re going to get you out!”
Every breath burned her lungs.
“Hurry!” she rasped.
“We’ve got a crowbar!”
Metal grated against metal, and the small crack of light widened slightly. She lowered her head, hoping to find clearer air.
“We’ve almost got it. Hang on, baby!”
She held her breath, concentrating on Logan’s voice.
He’s going to save me. I’m going to be okay.
Then a shrill scream rent the air, ripping at her eardrums. Another followed. And another.
“Help me!” The tormented female voice dissolved into more shrieks.
Ellery knew exactly what was happening. She’d been there before. Felt the fire licking her skin. The woman with the clipboard had to be trapped in the front of the crumpled van, and the fire must have reached her.
With the next scream, Ellery’s meager stomach contents emptied. She couldn’t sit by and do nothing while the woman suffered the same searing agony Ellery had endured. She had to do something.
As the creaks of bending metal signaled Logan’s continued efforts, Ellery clutched the fire extinguisher and crawled, coughing, through the