In The Face of Death

When the chain collision happened, the windshield instantly shattered, and the deformed dashboard pinned my right lower leg down. The excruciating pain of my bone snapping brought tears to my eyes instantly. Right then, I also caught the pungent scent of leaking gasoline.

“Shawn…” I gasped out, struggling to turn my neck. “My leg is broken, and there’s fuel leaking up front. Quick, undo my seatbelt for me…”

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Shawn Adams’s hands trembled as he ripped off his own seatbelt. However, his gaze swept right past me and fell on the backseat.

“Willow! Willow, talk to me! Where did you get hit?”

In the back, Willow Benson, the new intern at Shawn’s precinct, was clutching her head and crying. She had complained that the seatbelt was too uncomfortable when she got into the car and had refused to wear it, so at the moment of the impact, she was thrown against the back of the front seat.

“Shawn, my head hurts so badly. Do I have a concussion? I feel like throwing up…”

“Don’t be afraid! I’m coming to get you right now!”

Shawn kicked open his deformed car door, got out, and rushed to the back seat, where he expertly scooped Willow up into his arms.

“Shawn!” I screamed as I stared at the layer of gasoline spread rapidly across the road. “The fuel is leaking! My leg is pinned, and I can’t get out! Just help me push the seat back first!”

Shawn paused for a second as he held Willow, turning his head back toward me.

“Lea, I am still in my uniform! With so many witnesses here, if I put you first out of self-interest while ignoring a citizen who is in greater danger, what kind of police officer would I be?”

He looked down at me and continued, “Your airbag deployed, so you’re temporarily safe. Willow wasn't wearing a seatbelt, so she must be prioritized for treatment. As a cop’s fiancée, shouldn’t you understand that? Give me two minutes.”

Without another glance at me, he carried Willow and walked briskly toward the safety zone on the outer side of the highway.

Suddenly, a shower of sparks erupted from the bottom of the car’s front end. The moment the flames met the gasoline, a fire shot up half a meter high, closing in directly on the passenger door.

Feeling around frantically, I grabbed a sharp piece of broken glass from the center console. Like a crazy person, I began sawing at the jammed seatbelt. The jagged edge of the glass cut into the flesh of my palm, and blood mixed with rainwater trickled down.

The exact second the flames spread into the car, the seatbelt finally snapped. I bit down hard, gritting my teeth as I forced my broken right leg out from the crushed gap. The sheer pain made my vision go dark for a moment.

Dragging my deformed leg, I rolled out of the car window, crashed into the muddy water, and used both hands to claw my way forward desperately.

The moment an explosion went off behind me, I lay face down on the tarmac and fainted.