As I snapped my gaze away from the rear-view mirror and back to the road ahead, a scream tore through my throat. I saw a panel van was barreling straight towards us.
To make matters worse, we were on a winding road with a gentle slope, and the van had already rounded the bend, speeding downhill due to the gentle curve.
Our car had just suffered a brutal rear-end collision and was desperately trying to straighten up to avoid another hit. In the chaos, we had strayed into the oncoming lane.
In a brief heartbeat, the jeep behind us picked up speed.
The van's driver realized the danger, laying on the horn in a series of shrill, desperate warnings.
But it was clear—we were trapped.
The jeep behind us was now hugging the right one-third of our vehicle, overtaking us and showing no signs of slowing down.
The van was clearly trying to decelerate, but it was still moving too fast. There was no time for reverse gears; the panel van was charging at us. My mouth agape, eyes bulging, my body froze as my mind blanked out. A silent wail echoed in my heart—I was going to die.
With less than a hundred meters separating us from the oncoming threat, our car jerked, veering to the left.
My hands clung to the handle for dear life as the sudden turn sent my body slamming into the door before collapsing to the left.
It was our only option; the vehicle to our right sought to trap us between itself and the van, leaving us nowhere to turn. A collision would be catastrophic, undoubtedly.
The van driver, sensing our move, instinctively steered to their left as well—a gut reaction.
This move put our adversary under fatal pressure. We were now fully in the wrong lane, and Hannah's sharp turn had brought us close to the left edge.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Crises in Love