Getaway

“It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Get to the next town.” I mutter under my breath and lick the sweat from my upper lip. My trembling fingers turn white on the steering wheel. I squint into the night. Snow races toward me from an endless vacuum of black. My headlights are dim. The car shudders, gasping against the storm.

I have to hurry. He knows by now that I am gone and what I’ve taken. The road twists suddenly, and the car screeches around the bend. My tires slip sideways and, thankfully, catch the pavement. I curse, smacking my hand on the wheel. Come on. The bag in the passenger seat slides forward, dropping a stack of bills to the floor. I shove the bag back and turn my eyes to the windshield. My headlights barrel towards two yellow eyes in my path. I scream and jerk the wheel. The big cat leaps to safety, but it’s too late for me. The car careens. It fishtails, bouncing off one tree, then another, and rolls down a small hill, landing on the roof.

It’s quiet now. I’m hanging and struggle with my belt until it releases, dropping me into broken glass and slicing my hands and knees. I can’t breathe. My coat is ripped and slick. I crawl into icy winds, my broken fingernails scraping for purchase, my legs dragging uselessly behind me. I lean against a tree, the snow quickly piling over me.

Help. I… need… rest… just… for a minute.