Ryan Westfield - Getting Out

It was too late. Max realized at the last second what had happened. Without realizing it, they had driven right through a crossroads.

The other car, with its high beams still on, was coming at them from the side.

The other car T-boned them.

There was the horrible sound of the collision. The sound of metal crunching. The sound of screams.

The other vehicle hit the Jeep’s engine, pushing it sideways in a horrible jerking motion.

Max was thrown forward. The seatbelt caught him and jerked him back. His head whiplashed backwards, hurting instantly.

The airbag deployed, but only partially, filling up like some old stock stuffed with quarters

The airbag didn’t even touch Max.

He didn’t lose consciousness. He looked over at Mandy. There wasn’t an airbag on her side. But the seatbelt had saved her. She hadn’t lost consciousness, but she looked dazed.

A thousand thoughts ran through Max’s head at once. The Jeep. The damn Jeep. It was no doubt ruined. Without it, things were going to be a lot tougher.

But Max knew that the Jeep was a more long-term worry. The immediate, short term worry was who’d crashed into them and why.

Max cut his seatbelt with a pocket knife. He tried the release button of Mandy’s seatbelt, but it was jammed, so he sliced through that too.

People were shouting in the other car that had collided with them. Max could barely make out the sounds over the heavy rain and the frequent thunder.

Lightning flashed in the sky nearby, illuminating the entire car. But Max wasn’t able to see into the other car, except that it was an enormous SUV.

Max didn’t have time to evaluate the damage. He moved quickly. He took out his gun, holding it even though his wrist hurt like crazy. He was pretty sure he could hold it well enough to shoot. He’d never practiced using his left hand, and he cursed himself now for that.

He tried his door, but it wouldn’t open.

“Out,” he whispered to Mandy. “I’ve got to get out.”

“You’re going out there?” said Mandy. “Stay in the Jeep, Max.”

“I’ve got to see who they are,” said Max. “You can get in the backseat. My door doesn’t open. Just let me out.”

“If you’re going out there, I’m going too,” said Mandy.

Max didn’t like that. Mandy was unarmed. They’d given the guns back to the village idiots that Mandy had wanted to help. If things had gone Max’s way, he would have stolen the guns from them for what they did to them. But that was what compassion would get you.

Despite Max’s protests, Mandy got out of the car.

With her door open, the rain was even louder. It made huge crashing sounds as it slammed violently into the pavement.

Mandy was instantly soaked again. Despite the situation, Max’s gaze hung for a moment on her soaking chest.

But he tore his eyes away, and clamored over her seat to get out.

He held his flashlight with his left hand, his Glock in his right. He kept the flashlight on the highest setting, knowing that the batteries would drain fast, but he also realized that he hardly had any other choice. No other settings seemed to cut through the night at all.

Max was partially blinded by the raging high beams from the other car. All four headlights (two from each car) were still on, but they had been knocked askew, and they sliced through the night crazily. The headlights and the still-running engines made the night feel chaotic.

Max was instantly wet in the rain.

Lightning slammed into the trees nearby.

Thunder sounded.

Max moved around to the other side of the big black SUV.

He led with his gun, and Mandy stayed behind him. She held the big dead metal flashlight that Max always kept in the Jeep. Presumably, Chad was still passed out. Max hadn’t even checked to see if he was OK.

Two doors to the SUV were wide open.

Max pointed his flashlight inside. There was no one there.

There was some gear.

The people couldn’t be far…

Max spun around, looking for them, pointing his light through the night.

Suddenly, a powerful light shone on Mandy and Max. It swayed a little, but it stayed right on them.

“Don’t move a muscle,” came a tough sounding female voice from nearby.

Max froze.

“Don’t move,” he whispered to Mandy.

“Who are you?” came the voice. It was definitely female, but it had some gravely notes, as if the voice had been toughened and hardened over the years.

Max knew from the voice alone that he was up against a person who wasn’t going to take any bullshit. If he was honest with himself, Max was worried.

The last thing he needed right now was to run up against some group of tough women who would steal all their provisions.

“Drop the gun,” came the voice.

Max didn’t move.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he fight? Should he make a stab at shooting her? But there must have been more. Two doors were open, after all. There might be as many as six people out there in the night.

They might all have guns.

Max couldn’t even see the woman.

“I’m going to lower it, so there’s no chance of an accidental discharge,” called out Max, loudly. He had to speak loudly to make his voice heard in the storm.

Max did as he said he would, slowly placing the Glock on the pavement.

“Step away from the gun,” came the voice. “Who are you?”

“I’m Max,” said Max. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he had a serial number or something. And what good would his identity do in a situation like this? Things had changed. Things were different now. His old occupation didn’t matter, nor did his driver’s license or his library card. His credit cards were worthless, as was his bank account. Now it was just what he had on him. His actions had to speak for themselves.

“How many of you are there?”

Max turned his head a little, trying to see where the light was coming from. It seemed like it was coming from behind some trees off to his left… The people in the SUV must have abandoned their vehicle immediately after the crash. They must not have been injured. Max thought that he’d moved fast, but apparently it hadn’t been fast enough.

Georgia didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know whether these people were a threat or not.

She wasn’t the type to automatically assume that someone was a threat, even in these dire circumstances. But at the same time, the man had rushed out of his car carrying a handgun.

Then again, she had a gun too.

Georgia certainly wasn’t just going to murder these people. But she also couldn’t just ignore them. They were here, and they weren’t simply going to go away. If they were a threat, she’d have to tie them up or something, and that would be the same as murdering them.

Either they were a threat, and she killed them here and now. Or they weren’t, and she let them go, let them get their equipment out of their car.

Both vehicles were obviously too damaged to ever run again. It was the sort of damage that totaled the cars. Even a professional mechanic wouldn’t be able to help the vehicles.

James was holding the flashlight on them, illuminating both of them. Sadie was holding a rifle, per Georgia’s instructions.

Georgia had to act. She got out from behind the tree and walked towards the man and woman, who had their hands in the air.

Georgia approached them, pointing the gun right at the man’s stomach. At this range, there was no chance she could miss. But Georgia also knew about knife attacks. She knew that even trained police officers didn’t have time to draw and discharge their weapons if they were rushed with a knife—what was it, something like fifteen feet? It was quite a distance.