Tires squeal across cool pavement. It’s been raining, and cars rush around the bend too quickly to notice the dented guardrail.
Below, James scrabbles for purchase, a piece of metal in his side, big as his fist. No arteries severed, no organs shredded, but he’s bleeding out.
One foot up, two feet back. Mud slicks the incline. He tries to climb, slides on down again, finally losing grip entirely. He tumbles and lands hard against the wreck of his car.
James gasps, clutching his side. Brakes screech. A car leaps the rail. He screams as headlights plummet right toward him.