Page 82 of Shea's Hero

My heart flies into my throat.

This is very bad.

I’m no expert in tactical driving, like Oliver, but even to me, it’s obvious the cars are together. I can’t think of another explanation for two similar-looking sedans to be barrelingtowards us in tandem, lined up perfectly with each other, driving at what looks to be the same speed.

Oliver’s knuckles are white on the wheel. His jaw could cut glass.

Our car is slowing, but with the car behind us right on our tail, Oliver can only let off the gas so much.

We’re stuck. Two cars in front, one in the rear, and nowhere to go on either side.

“Okay,” Oliver says in an eerily calm tone. “I’m going to try to swerve around the one in our lane. We might glance off the guardrail, but we should be alright.”

“Okay,” I whisper. It’s a struggle to even get that out. My lungs feel like a giant band is wrapped around them, wrapping tighter by the second.

“Soon,” he says. “Just hang on.”

But.

The cars coming at us come to a screeching stop, angling themself so they block the road completely.

Oh. Crap.

The move is like something I’ve seen on TV, when two cop cars are trying to stop a fugitive on the run. Except it’s not a movie, it’s real. And I have a pretty good suspicion the men in the carsaren’tthe police.

A glance at the speedometer tells me we’re moving at a steady thirty miles an hour, which isn’t very fast, but if we crash into these cars head on…

“Shea. I’m going to have to try to run through the barricade. We can’t let these guys stop us.” Oliver’s gaze flickers to me for a second. There’s less than two-hundred feet between us and the makeshift blockage across the road. “I need you to brace your head against the headrest. Tense up your muscles. It’ll help reduce the force of any impact.”

I try to answer him, but all that comes out is a dry croak. My throat is too dry to speak.

“Hang on.”

One-hundred feet.

Oh, please.

And then.

We’re rammed from behind.

It’s violent. Jarring. Loud.

Metal screeches.

My head jerks forward.

Oliver’s hand reaches over and clamps across my stomach, pressing me back against the seat.

The car starts spinning.

Everything happens so fast.

Three cars are converging on us, still not slowing.

My heart feels like it’s about to explode.

A quick glance at Oliver shows his expression more intense than I’ve ever seen it.

---