Was it?I wasn't so sure. Yeah, maybe the front end was severely crumpled, but it's not like we were in a twisted heap of burning metal.
My heart clenched.But what about Mason?
Here in the back seat, I was surrounded by tangled clothes and tumbled boxes. Still, I yanked off my seatbelt and lunged toward the side window. The side airbag had deployed at hip level, leaving my view unobstructed.Thank God.
And yet, thanks to the swirling snow, I still couldn't see beyond a few feet.
But then, the snow cleared barely enough for me to spot Mason's car on the opposite side of the road, where it had apparently found a ditch of its own. The rear of his sedan was a banged, crunched-up mess.
As far as the front, I couldn’t be sure either way.
As I took in the damage, something squeezed at my heart.Was Mason alright?
I reached for the door handle and gave it a frantic tug.Nothing happened.In the front seat, they were still arguing.
Ignoring them, I gave the door handle another tug.Still nothing.
Stupid safety features.
I hollered out, "Unlock the door!"
Both of them ignored me and kept on bickering.
Great.Already, the snow was kicking up again, hiding Mason's car from my desperate view. With growing anxiety, I stared through the snowy mist.
And then I saw him, striding forward like a gladiator heading into battle. He wore a dark business suit, a red necktie, and a look so ominous, I felt myself swallow.
In his right hand was a hammer – silver on the business end with a blazing orange handle. It was their trademark Blast Demolition Hammer, which he was wielding like a weapon.
I murmured, "Oh, my God," before hollering out to the idiots in front. "At least roll down the window!"
I wasn't even thinking of escape. I knew I'd make it out eventually. But now more than anything, I needed to let Mason know that his sister wasn't here, before he killed someone in a brotherly rage.
But did they listen?
No.
They kept on bickering.
As I watched in growing horror, Mason strode to driver's side window and lifted the hammer high. A split second later, the window shattered in a hail of broken glass that instantly silenced the bickering.
Mason used the sharp end of the hammer to puncture the airbag. And then, he tossed the hammer aside and reached into the car with both hands. He grabbed the guy in the driver's seat and yanked him out through the now-open window.
The guy hollered out, "What the fuck?"
As for his companion, she practically dove for the passenger's side door and shoved it open with no trouble.
But me?I was still trapped by the child safety locks.
I watched in stunned disbelief as she slammed the passenger's side door shut behind her, and then headednotfor her companion, but in the opposite direction, toward the nearby woods.
Well, so much for loyalty.
As for Mason, he slammed the driver up against the side of the car, just inches from my face. He hauled back and hit the guy in the dead center of his ski mask.
With my face pressed against the back window, I hollered out, "Willow's not here!"
Mason called back, "I know," just before hitting the guy again, this time in the stomach.
