The entire car fishtails as inertia catches.
My cry turns into a scream as I roll dangerously too far towards the right. The snow swirls in a chaotic dance that blinds me to the world as I fight with the wheel.
The road.
My racing heart.
The leather squeaks beneath my stiff fingers and I strain to right myself but I hit.
I collide with the snowbank.
A jarring thump sends my entire body heaving forward. The belt across my chest catches and I’m thrown back with a rattling thud.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, clutching my thundering heart. “Oh my God!”
Panting, I turn my head to scan the black void yawning outside my driver’s side window, searching for signs of the thing that nearly killed me.
But whatever it was, it’s gone. At least, I can’t see anything.
The only visible thing is my terrified expression staring back at me through the glass.
A pained beat thrums at my temple. A prickling of stress, no doubt, that travels down beneath my left eyebrow. I tentatively poke at the spot with shaking fingers to ease the pressure but it persists, moving even lower to collect behind my eye.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a spontaneous migraine, but the collision combined with the panic would do the trick.
“Great,” I mutter, blowing out a breath and blinking through tiny spots — that aren’t snowflakes — at the endless vacuum of darkness crushed against my windshield.
My heart claps violently up into my throat. It somersaults with terror as I realize with chilling horror that I was saved from plummeting to my death by a single, crumbling mound of snow.
A few more inches and I would have gone over.
The exhale I release leaks into the silence with a tremor that scuttles along my spine.
Trembling, I cautiously reverse and reposition myself back on where I’m assuming the road is. I’m vaguely aware that my right wrist is throbbing. There’s a persistent ache like I sprained it, and I think it definitely happened with the crash. And there’s a knot in my neck that definitely needs a professional to work out. I must have hit harder than I thought.
On proper, solid ground, not inches from sudden death, I will myself to relax. To take slow, calming breaths and steady myself before resuming the journey. My brain filters through all the possibilities of what I nearly just murdered. It was definitely too big to be a rabbit, but too small to be a bear.
A wolf? Maybe a deer?
I blow out a breath and ease down on the gas.
Can’t die, Katerina,I remind myself with grim amusement. I made a promise to Mom that I wouldn’t join Aunt Laura in the afterlife.
I definitely don’t think it would be a good idea to die where no one will find my body until spring. If even then. Part of me is uncomfortably certain no sane person would ever think to take this path.
Unconsciously, I steal a peek at the clock. The faint, pale glow blinks at three AM and I frown, trying to fathom how that’s possible when I don’t think I’ve been driving for that long.
When I continue to steal glances and the number doesn’t change, I come to the conclusion that the crash must have killed something.
Careful not to take my eyes off the road, I reach over and rap a knuckle on the glass.
Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
Aunt Laura owes me.
Not only did I nearly die, but now I need to take my car into the shop to get checked. Like this trip isn’t already costing me a small fortune in gas.
