1:02 a.m.
The night was restless—wind tearing through the trees like it knew something terrible was about to happen. The sky was a bruised purple, moonlight buried beneath clouds that refused to part. William's fingers trembled as they slid the car key into the ignition.
"Ready?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.
Archie nodded from the passenger seat, backpack cradled in his lap and was crying softly.
"We'll be free soon. Just a little longer"
The engine growled to life. William's heart thudded against his ribs as he pulled out of the private drive.
"We're really doing this," Archie said, staring out the window. "No turning back."
William reached for his hand across the gear shift. "We're going to make it."
The car moved like a ghost down the winding hillside roads, headlights slicing through the mist. For a while, it was just them and the sound of tires on asphalt. The soft hum of a song played low on the radio—something wistful and full of longing.
But then... the headlights appeared.
Archie saw them first—too steady, too close. He twisted in his seat. "Will... we're being followed."
William's hands clenched tighter on the wheel. "What?"
Archie's voice was sharp now. "That car's been behind us since the last turn. They're speeding up."
William glanced into the mirror. A black SUV loomed behind them like a predator.
"Shit."
He stepped on the gas. The engine roared. The trees blurred as they sped down the rural backroad, trying to outrun the nightmare gaining ground.
"Who is that?!" Archie cried.
William's jaw clenched. "I don't know—but I can guess."
The road twisted. Another sharp turn. Then—a pair of headlights suddenly flooded the road ahead.
Another black car.
Archie gasped. "They're boxing us in."
Panic surged. William yanked the wheel to the right, trying to veer off onto a narrow path through the trees. Mud and gravel kicked up beneath the tires. Branches scraped the windshield like claws.
"Hold on!"
The headlights disappeared behind them—but the front car had already anticipated the move. It swerved into their path.
William reacted instinctively—too fast, too hard.
The tires screamed.
The world spun.
And then—impact.
A sickening crunch of metal.
A blinding explosion of glass and light.
The front of the car slammed into a tree, the force of it shattering every sense into fragments.
Silence fell like a dropped curtain.
Then: rain. A soft drizzle, hissing on the broken windshield. Steam rose from the crumpled hood.
William blinked, barely conscious. The world pulsed around him in waves of black and gray. Blood trickled into his eye from somewhere on his scalp. He groaned, trying to move, but pain radiated through his chest like fire.
He turned his head with effort. The passenger side had taken the worst of it—metal crushed inward, glass glittering like cruel stars across the dash.
Archie slumped in the seat, unmoving.
Archie's head had struck the window. Blood ran down the side of his face, thick and red and horrifying.
"Archie...", he whispered before falling unconscious.
But outside, shadows moved. Doors opened. Footsteps approached.
They had tried to run. They had almost made it.
Almost.