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The truck flipped.

Up became down. The world spun in a kaleidoscope of green leaves, blue sky, and brown earth. I was weightless for a heartbeat, suspended in space, wondering when the rollercoaster from hell was going to end. Then I was slammed back into the seat as the truck completed its barrel roll.

The truck hit roof-first. The cab collapsed with a shriek of twisted metal. My seatbelt cut into my chest, and I hollered at the pain in my ribs. The steering wheel jammed into my sternum. Another grunt at the pain. Something warm and metallic filled my mouth.

Blood.

Another flip. The truck bounced off a massive oak trunk and went airborne again. This time it landed upright with a bone-jarring crash that rattled my teeth. The engine coughed once and died. Steam hissed.

Steam?

Oh yeah.

The radiator.

Finally, silence, except for me panting like a thirsty dog.

I hung in my seatbelt, breathing in short, sharp gasps that sent fire through my chest. Every breath felt like I was being stabbed. When I tried to move, the world tilted sickeningly. I gagged. I felt like I was going to puke.

Concussion. Definitely a concussion.

I tried to clear my head. I needed to think.

“Think, Wallace!”

Joy!

My phone. I needed my phone.

I fumbled around the destroyed cab with clumsy fingers. There. The phone had wedged itself between the seat and center console. The screen was cracked, but the display looked like it was still working.

Like I would know, since I was seeing double.

I tried to unlock it, but my fingers wouldn't cooperate. Everything felt distant, like I was operating someone else's hands through thick gloves. The numbers swam on the screen.

Blood dripped from somewhere on my scalp onto the phone's surface.

Great. Just great.

Finally, I managed to open my contacts. I hit redial and got Jase.

“She’s fine. Nash is here. We’re developing a plan.”

“Joy?” I managed to croak out.

“I told you, she’s fine. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Crash,” I mumbled. “Brakes.”

“What? Buddy, I can barely hear you. What are you saying?”

“Not accident.”

The phone slipped from my nerveless fingers and clattered somewhere in the wreckage. Darkness crept in around the edges of my vision. I could hear Jase's voice, distant and tinny, calling my name through the speaker.

I tried to answer, but words wouldn't come. The pain in my chest was overwhelming, making it impossible to draw a full breath. My left arm hung useless at my side. Something was wrong with my shoulder.

Then I could hear sirens in the distance, growing closer. Someone must have called 911. Good. That was good.