Chapter 6 - The Wreckage
The world dissolved into a chaotic blur of shattered safety glass and screaming metal.
The impact flipped the heavy SUV completely off the ground.
It rolled twice before violently slamming onto its side against a brick wall.
Mave woke up hanging sideways by her seatbelt, the sharp taste of copper flooding her mouth.
The interior of the vehicle was dark and filled with acrid smoke.
She looked toward the front seat.
The driver was pinned against the crushed steering wheel, his neck bent at an impossible angle.
Gallagher was trapped beneath the caved-in roof, completely unconscious and bleeding from a nasty gash on his forehead.
Brutus was whining loudly, his back leg caught underneath one of the collapsed seats.
Outside, heavy boots crunched over the carpet of broken glass.
Flashlight beams swept through the lingering smoke.
Mave could hear the distinct, metallic clatter of assault rifles being racked.
The Suarez Cartel had come to finish the job.
Mave's hands trembled as she unbuckled her seatbelt and dropped to the sideways door panel.
She crawled toward the front seat and spotted a compact pistol strapped to the dead driver's ankle.
She yanked it free, her fingers slipping slightly on the blood.
She had never fired a gun in her life.
May you like
The rear door above her suddenly groaned as someone ripped it open from the outside.
Mave looked up and stared directly down the barrel of a cartel hitman's rifle.
