Chapter 8 - Highway to Hell
The wire cut deep into Beatrice’s skin, choking off her air instantly.
An assassin had been waiting in the backseat of the truck all along.
The man pulled back hard, bracing his boots against the driver's seat.
Beatrice let go of the steering wheel, clawing desperately at the wire.
The truck swerved violently across the empty highway, scraping against the concrete barrier.
Sparks flew into the night sky as the metal groaned and shrieked.
Enzo groaned, slowly opening his poisoned, bloodshot eyes.
He saw Beatrice struggling, her face turning purple in the dim streetlights.
Despite his hatred for her, his survival instincts took over.
Enzo reached across the console and slammed his fist into the assassin’s face.
The man grunted but did not loosen his grip on the wire.
Beatrice realized she was going to lose consciousness in seconds.
She made a split-second, suicidal decision.
She slammed her foot down on the gas pedal and jerked the steering wheel hard to the right.
The truck launched off the road and smashed head-on into a concrete bridge pillar.
The airbags deployed with a deafening crack.
The sudden deceleration launched the unbuckled assassin forward, shattering his neck against the windshield.
The truck spun wildly before coming to a smoking halt in a ditch.
Silence fell over the wreckage, broken only by the hiss of the radiator.
Beatrice gasped for air, tearing the loosened wire away from her bleeding throat.
She kicked her door open and dragged herself onto the wet grass.
She limped over to the passenger side and pulled a battered Enzo from the wreckage.
He was bleeding from a deep cut on his forehead, barely able to stand.
She supported his weight, knowing they could not stay near the crash site.
Sirens were already echoing in the distance.
They stumbled through a desolate suburban neighborhood for miles.
Eventually, they reached a dingy, neon-lit clinic hidden behind a pawn shop.
It belonged to a neutral mob doctor who fixed bullet wounds for cash.
The doctor, a nervous man named Aris, rushed them into a back room.
He began stitching Enzo’s head while Beatrice stood guard by the window.
She told Aris they needed stimulants and painkillers immediately.
Aris nodded, preparing a syringe with trembling hands.
He injected the fluid directly into Enzo’s IV line.
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Enzo sighed in relief as the pain began to fade.
But Beatrice noticed Aris looking at her with a deeply apologetic expression.
