Heaven's Crime (gxg) ✓

three. crash and burn

                My eyes are closed.

                I wait―for a crash, for death, for the introduction of the truck through the windshield of the Porsche I never should have gotten into. 

                I can smell it: hot, burning rubber and gasoline.

                Goodbye, Cassie. One last prayer for my little sister. I'm so sorry I left you with Mom. 

                But after one second, two―the sound of the squealing tires is gone. I can hear the sound of my heavy breathing as the ringing fades.

                And when I open my eyes, I see the truck burning.

                "You swerved," I say, still in shock. "You . . . steered us out of the way."

                 Veah is looking at the sand in front of us, caked on the windshield. Her eyes are fixed on the truck. Watching it as it burns.

                  "Your reflexes," I say, thinking out loud. "That's not possible."

                   How can her reflexes be so sharp? How can her instinct be so honed? 

                   The fire from the truck morphs into something bigger, and I see a silhouette in the passenger seat.

                    My hand shakes as I try to unbuckle my seatbelt. I tug on the handcuff that connects us, urging her to move. To look.

                    "Veah," I whisper. "The truck driver―we have to help him."

                    Wordless, she shakes her head.

                    The truck explodes.

                    Fury and flame and debris rise up into the air―too far away to hurt us,  but too close to be safe. Sparks swirl through the air, and through the shattered windows, I smell it: heat and sea salt.

                    "We have to―we have to do something," I say, fumbling for the car door. "Oh, my God, we can't just―"

                     Veah steps on the gas pedal. The car lurches through the sand, and I am thrown back against the leather seat again. I wince, and the feeling of stickiness―warm blood―pricks at me. A head injury. Shit. 

                     "Um," I say. Hysteria creeps up into my voice. "We can't just leave―"

                      Without looking at me, she accelerates. The car begins to speed along the ribbon of grey road, faster and faster beneath the stormy sky.

                      I am in a car with a stranger.

                      I am in a car with a beautiful stranger.

                      I am in a car with a crazy, beautiful stranger. 

                      And we are hurtling towards our deaths. Is it a crime to leave the scene of a car accident? Probably. Definitely. Will I get arrested? Should I call the police? 

                      Yes, Kaya, you should call the police. 

                      With one hand, I fumble in my pocket for my phone. The screen is cracked. My eyes flicker towards Veah, who stares determinedly at the road ahead.