The tires screamed as the car skidded sideways, narrowly missing the rusted iron supports. Frank swung the wheel back, the momentum nearly flipping them over. Behind them, the pursuit intensified, the gap between the bumper and the abyss narrowing with every heartbeat. The horizon was gone now, replaced by an absolute, suffocating blackness that seemed to swallow the road ahead.
A heavy thud rocked the rear bumper. One of the sedans had pulled alongside, its grill gritting against their quarter panel. A man leaned out of the passenger window, his face a mask of calm, calculated fury. He wasn’t holding a gun; he was holding a heavy, hooked chain. "Take the shot!" Frank yelled. Race with the Devil YIFY
Frank floored it. The engine roared, a mechanical scream against the oppressive silence of the plains. He remembered the look on the girl’s face before the knife fell, and the way the cultists had looked up, their eyes reflecting the firelight, realizing they had witnesses. The tires screamed as the car skidded sideways,
He gripped the wheel, his knuckles white. He didn't slow down for the curve. He smelled burning rubber and old incense. As they hit the bridge, Frank realized the headlights behind them hadn't flickered once. They were being driven into the heart of the dark, and the road was running out. The horizon was gone now, replaced by an