Don't Turn Around - Jessica Barry Page 0,80

the horizon had turned a burnished gold. She glanced at the clock: 6:34 a.m. The sun would be up in another half hour. She no longer knew if that was a blessing or a curse.

“I see something.”

Cait looked over to see Rebecca hunched over in her seat, peering at the side mirror. “What is it?”

“Someone’s coming in the other lane.”

Cait’s eyes went to the mirror. She caught a glimpse of the headlights at the edge. “Is it him?” In the gloaming, the light bounced off the chrome grille of a pickup truck.

She knew the answer before Rebecca nodded and began to cry.

The pickup cut across the divide and landed behind them with a bounce. The growl of the engine filled the air, and Rebecca could hear the urgency in it, and the anger. Whoever was driving that truck was going to get them, no matter what.

She let her eyes close. Fine. Let them come.

The pickup pulled alongside them again, but this time it hugged the rear wheel. Cait squinted into the wing mirror. “I can’t see what he’s doing back there.”

The answer came quickly. The truck punched into the side of the Jeep, its front end biting and sending them spinning off the road. The wheels hit the edge of the curb and suddenly the Jeep was airborne. It flipped, the windshield suddenly a funhouse mirror reflecting an upside-down world. It bounced hard on the driver’s side, shattering the windows and caving in the roof, before hurtling through the air again and tilting back onto its wheels.

The engine let out a long, painful hiss before falling silent.

There were no airbags to deploy, and Rebecca’s seat belt had slackened at some point during the crash. Her face had smashed against the dashboard, and her neck had snapped back against the seat when the Jeep landed. She reached her hand to her mouth. Her fingers came back bloodied.

The world tilted again. She’d never been good with blood.

She pawed at her own body, searching for injuries. Her neck sang with pain every time she moved it, and her right shoulder was bruised and tender to the touch. She moved her legs gingerly; her ankle screamed. She must have twisted it in the footwell. She touched the soft swell of her stomach last. It was still for a few heartbeats, and then she felt it: the slightest movement, butterfly wings brushing inside her. She sagged back in her seat.

Maybe it would have been a blessing if she’d miscarried during the crash. But she didn’t want to give whatever monster was driving that truck the satisfaction of knowing he’d won. It would be on her own terms. No one else’s.

She turned her attention toward Cait. She was slumped over in the driver’s seat, limp as a rag doll, her dark hair matted, her face streaked with blood. Shards of glass glittered across her skin like diamonds.

Rebecca reached out and shook her. “Cait, can you hear me? Cait?” Nothing. A bubble of pink spit rose from the woman’s mouth and burst. Rebecca shook her harder. “Cait, if you can hear me, you have to wake up.” She peered out of the shattered window into the gloaming. No sign of the truck, but she knew that he was out there.

She knew he was coming to finish the job.

Cait’s eyes stuttered open. She blinked out at the splintered windshield, the desert shattered into a thousand refracted segments. It was quiet, the only sound the gentle roar of the blood rushing in her ears. For a moment, it was almost peaceful.

And then the pain came.

Her face felt as if it had been bathed in acid, each nerve set alight and burning. Her tongue was swollen and bloodied in her mouth, and when she looked down, she saw that her left arm was hanging at a strange angle.

She felt someone’s hands on her, shaking her, and heard her name called over and over. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. She closed her eyes again. She wanted to sleep now. She wanted this nightmare to be over.

“Cait!” Her eyes flickered open and she saw Rebecca’s face hovering above. Her chin was dripping with blood, and her mouth was swollen and painful-looking. It was her eyes that scared Cait the most, though. They were feverish, burning into hers. They were terrified.

“We have to go.” Rebecca was fumbling with something at her side. “I’m going to move you so I can get in the driver’s seat, okay? I’m

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