TWISTED ICE (ONC 2023)

CHAPTER 2

The Ford Bronco plunges toward the tree line, skimming over the rocky cliff face on its way down to the bottom of the snow covered ravine. A sea of white and green fills my view for a few breath-stealing seconds, until the nose of the SUV—heavy with the engine—drops toward the mountainside and smashes down onto a slight outcropping. The brief collision jolts my body and head forward, toward the steering wheel, but the shoulder strap snaps me back in my seat.

I hope this ride from hell is over, but when the front end careens out over the open air, I know it's not.

The vehicle plummets, its undercarriage scraping over another rocky protrusion with a shuddering crunch. Everyone screams. Our seatbelts are the only things keeping us from ricocheting off the SUV's interior like human pinballs.

I haven't had time to think, but as we free fall toward the spruce and cedar, I feel my heart lodged in my throat. The pressure intensifies, cutting off my breath and leaving me gasping for air.

As we drop, my chest presses against my seatbelt.

Straight down, the tree tops race toward us. I can't estimate the speed of our descent, but the branches reach out and claw at the SUV on the way down.

As the vehicle draws close to impact, I feel the g-forces pulling me toward the windshield, fighting against the shoulder strap which holds me back.

The branches slap the outside of the Bronco, marring the shiny red paint and knocking off the side mirrors. As we fall, the limbs grow thicker and stronger, shattering glass, crumpling fenders, and buckling quarter panels. The thick arms slow the plummet, but not enough to stop it. We nosedive and smash into the ground. The impact rushes up through me, throwing me toward the steering wheel and then whip lashing my body back like a rag doll.

The airbags blast out, protecting my face and chest, but punching me straight in the mouth. All my joints burst into pain and I can't help but squeeze my eyes shut and cry out in shock.

Just like that, we come to a bone-rattling stop.

As light streams in through the busted windows, my vision sways as I hang, suspended, above the dashboard. I feel my bottom lip swelling, wet and warm.

I stare through squinted eyes, groaning from my bruised sternum where the seatbelt broke my fall.

I still can't breathe.

My mind struggles to find out why, and then it hits me. The seatbelt. In a blur with my head tingling, desperate for air, my fingers scramble in every direction, searching for the latch. I'm about to pass out when I click the button and release the belt, allowing me to drop. My arm catches on the strap, turning my body at the last second and driving my shoulder into the steering wheel.

What air was in my lungs, blasts out through my mouth.

I gasp, my torso draped half over the dash. There's a wheeze in my chest, but soon, it clears as I suck in several breaths. When I try to move, the vehicle shifts. It's standing on end with the grill implanted in the snow, the rear end sticking up in the air.

"What happened?" Chloe glances over at me with glassy eyes, slumped over in her seatbelt, chin sagging. "We crashed."

A groan from the backseat. "I think I broke my wrist."

"Isaiah?" I say.

"Yeah. It hurts. I can't bend it."

"Stay where you are. I'll come to you."

More moans come from the backseat.

Jasmine leans forward, caught in her shoulder strap. Hunter the same. When I climb up to reach them, the Bronco shifts again, but this time it rocks backwards. It must have been teetering on the edge of balance. There's a metallic creak of tortured metal and then the SUV looses it battle with gravity and falls, slamming down on its back tires, shock absorbers protesting like a ruined set of mattress box springs.