Page 54 of Critical Mass
The driver made a choice—backup and flee, or ram through Hudson and pursue.
For three heartbeats, they sat there. Hudson could see the driver’s face through the windshield—cold, calculating, professional.
Then the driver threw the car into Reverse, tires smoking as he backed up thirty feet and spun around.
They were running.
Hudson started to pursue, then stopped.
Natalie.
He couldn’t chase them and protect her at the same time.
He took the turn, accelerating hard down the residential street where Natalie had disappeared.
His phone was still connected, her ragged breathing sounding over the line.
“Natalie? Talk to me. Where are you?”
No response. Just breathing and the sound of her engine.
Then he saw it—fresh tire marks leading off the road. Her BMW’s distinctive tracks, gouged into the grass shoulder.
The car itself sat twenty feet down an embankment, nose-first in a drainage ditch. Steam rose from the crumpled hood.
Hudson was out of his car before he fully registered parking it.
Natalie’s head rang like a bell, her vision swimming.
The airbag had deployed—she remembered that much. The explosive sound, the powder in the air, the sudden stop that had thrown her forward against the seatbelt.
Everything hurt. Her chest, her neck, her hands where she’d gripped the wheel.
But she was alive.
She fumbled for the seatbelt release, her fingers clumsy and shaking. The car sat at an angle, driver’s side lower than passenger side. Water seeped through the door seals—the ditch was deeper than it looked.
Her door wouldn’t open. Jammed or blocked or both.
Panic fluttered in her chest.
Then Hudson’s face appeared at the window, his expression tight with fear.
“Natalie!” His voice was muffled through the glass. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Can you move? Are you hurt?”
She tried to assess. Everything ached, but nothing felt broken. “I think—I think I’m okay.”
“Your door’s jammed. I need you to climb to the passenger side. Can you do that?”
Natalie looked at the steep angle of the car, at the water rising around her feet. Her hands were still shaking.
“Natalie.” Hudson’s voice cut through her shock. “Look at me.”
She did. His eyes were intense, focused entirely on her.
