My Fiery Finish

I gripped the steering wheel with all my strength.

The burning front of the car scraped hard against the safety barrier, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

Amid the crashing sounds, I clearly heard the two of them screaming as they dialed for help.

“Someone, hurry! Jane’s gone mad!”

“She’s trying to kill us! She’s going to crash into us!”

As the structure beneath the commentator booth began to sway dangerously, I twisted the wheel sharply.

The car brushed perilously close to a concrete pillar, leaving a shocking scratch in its wake.

Crash straight into them? That would have been too easy.

What I wanted was for them to be tormented slowly, trapped in long, drawn-out despair.

As expected, seeing my assault briefly ease, the two figures on the commentary platform scrambled out, tumbling over each other.

They fled toward the empty backfield, thinking they had seized a chance at survival.

That was when I accelerated again, the burning front of the car closing in instantly.

Frozen in fear, they almost collapsed to the ground in relief, ready to embrace each other, only to be terrified into pale, rigid statues by the sudden roar of my approach.

“She’s catching up! Run!

“The car’s about to explode! She won’t hold much longer!

“Get back into the commentator booth! We’ll wait her out!”

Wait her out?

I sneered.

Whether buried under collapsed rubble or trapped with me for the car’s inevitable explosion, their fate was the same: a dead end.

Watching them scurry back to the booth like frightened rats, I readjusted my direction and slammed the car toward the wall where they hid.

“Boom!”

The violent jolt blacked out my vision for a moment, my organs feeling as if they’d shifted inside me.

Yet through the dust, a surge of grim satisfaction coursed through me when I saw their terrified faces.

Just as I steadied the car and prepared for the next strike, a deafening roar filled the air.

The massive sound of a helicopter drew near, and through the loudspeakers above came the team manager’s voice.

“Found them! Fire brigade! Put out the fire!”

No sooner had he spoken than a bucket of dry powder poured from above, hitting the exact spot where the car was ablaze.

The rescue team had arrived, and the engine fire was gradually extinguished.

Soon, rescuers broke the window and dragged me out of the car.

Fresh air flooded my lungs. Coughing violently, I felt a faint but undeniable sense of being alive.

As I was lifted onto the ambulance, I saw Thomas and Mandy. Their clothes disheveled, their expressions of post-trauma relief twisted into anger the instant they laid eyes on me.

They rushed straight toward me.

At that moment, a hand shot out, blocking them. It was the team manager, Ben Sutton.

I turned my head through the pain, trying to say something.

The next second, my collar was seized with brutal force.

Ben’s bloodshot eyes were inches from mine.

“Jane! Who gave you the courage to drive into a non-race zone? Do you even know what you’ve destroyed?!

“The Endurance King was the future of the entire team!”

I was burned in multiple places, barely snatched back from the edge of an explosion. Still, all he cared about was that pile of scorched metal.

Watching Ben’s twisted face, I pried his fingers off mine one by one. “Your ‘future of the team’ almost turned me to ash.”

His expression froze, then he yanked his hand free with a sharp jerk.

“You’d better pray that car can still be repaired.”

Ben spat the words through clenched teeth and staggered toward the wreckage.

Cool saline flowed into my veins.

I stared at the swaying IV line, my gaze growing icily cold.

Thomas and Mandy, our accounts will be slowly settled.