Chapter 8 - The Final Collision
The wail of the hijacked police cruiser pierced the morning air.
I could see the vehicle tearing down the dockside road, heading directly toward us.
Mark was behind the wheel, his face twisted into a mask of pure, unhinged rage.
Eleanor sat in the passenger seat, loading a high-powered rifle.
"Brace yourselves!" the paramedic shouted, grabbing Lily and pulling us to the floor of the ambulance.
Agent Harris stepped in front of the ambulance, raising his assault rifle.
He fired a steady barrage of bullets at the oncoming cruiser.
The windshield of the hijacked car shattered into a million pieces.
Mark didn't even flinch; he just pushed the gas pedal to the floor.
At the last possible second, Harris dove out of the way.
The cruiser slammed violently into the side of our ambulance.
The massive impact sent the heavy medical vehicle tipping over onto its side.
Metal shrieked and glass rained down as we were violently thrown against the interior walls.
I shielded Lily with my own body, taking the brunt of the heavy equipment falling around us.
Everything went dark for a moment as my head struck a metal cabinet.
When I opened my eyes, the back doors of the ambulance were forcefully pried open.
Mark climbed into the overturned vehicle, his face covered in blood from the crash.
He held a massive hunting knife in his right hand.
"If I can't have the payout, no one gets to live!" he screamed.
He lunged toward us, the blade gleaming in the morning light.
I didn't think; I just reacted purely on maternal instinct.
I grabbed a heavy oxygen tank from the floor and swung it upward with all my strength.
The heavy steel cylinder connected squarely with his jaw, producing a sickening crack.
Mark collapsed backward, dropping the knife and falling out the back doors.
I crawled out of the wreckage, holding Lily tightly to my chest.
Dozens of FBI agents swarmed the area, aiming their weapons at the crashed cruiser.
Eleanor tried to crawl out of the passenger side, but Harris pressed his boot firmly against her back.
"It's over," Harris told her, snapping heavy iron cuffs around her wrists.
I stood there, bleeding and bruised, watching the two people who ruined my life get dragged away.
I finally allowed myself to breathe.
But as I looked back at the overturned cruiser, I noticed something strange.
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The trunk of their car had popped open during the crash.
And there was a black body bag lying inside it.
