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She was wearing gloves and her ski clothes, and the heater was blasting hot air, yet she felt chilly inside. She punched a button on the radio, hoping to catch the weather forecast, but the signal was weak at this altitude, with the craggy peaks of the Cascade Mountains causing interference, so she settled for an old Otis Redding song that crackled and sputtered through the speakers.
Another set of headlights approached. She tried not to stare at the intense beams, but she experienced a strange sensation, one that reminded her of a doe transfixed by the glare. Relax. The sound of a truck’s engine rumbled, an
d its tire chains buzzed over the muffled music.
It’s just a truck. Big deal. There are dozens of them on this stretch of road, no matter what the conditions.
She tapped the brakes. They slid just a bit, then grabbed. Good.
To be safe, she eased as far to the right as she dared, but the guardrail was low in spots, and the black canyon that gaped beyond her viewpoint worried her.
Honk!
She jumped, her foot slipping on the brake.
The truck’s horn blasted again.
Her fingers tightened on the wheel. She pumped the brakes lightly.
Nothing.
Don’t panic! But the truck was roaring toward them on the left, and to the right was the gaping darkness of the edge of the cliff.
Honk!
“Philip,” she said as the truck’s horn blared again. “Philip!”
“Wh-what?” he said around a yawn.
“The truck, oh, God!” At that moment the semi seemed to swerve and come right at them.
“Jesus!” Philip was instantly awake. He grabbed for the wheel.
“Wait!”
She hit the brakes. They locked. The car shimmied.
“Holy Mother Mary!” Philip was wide awake and swearing, yanking at the steering wheel.
“Don’t! Philip!”
The car slid sideways as the truck, only feet away, loomed like the very specter of death. “Tiffany! Crank the wheel! Pump the damned brakes! Get us out of here!”
“I’m trying!”
“Mom?” Stephen’s voice cracked with fear.
She managed to turn just enough, but the truck, rolling past and out of control, clipped the rear end of the sedan. It spun wildly. She tried to stop but hit a patch of ice, and suddenly the car slammed through the guardrail and into the abyss.
“Oh my God!” Philip cried.
Tiffany screamed, and Christina let out a wail.
“Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no,” Stephen muttered as the car, with a bone-jarring thud, scraped down the side of the mountain and skidded downward. Faster, faster, the wheels spinning, the brakes useless.
“Stop! For God’s sake—”
Bam! They smashed into something. Hard. The windshield shattered. Glass sprayed. The car spun around.
