Emergency, that’s the only thing that Archer's mind could comprehend at that moment. Wind whipped hard against his face, as a sixteen wheeler spun passed. The motorway seemed almost unassailable to cross; a continuous stream of violent metal, screeching through his ears. He felt like he was in a game of Frogger. Only if he got squished, there’d be no continues. Horns howled, and he began to wonder what on earth he was thinking standing in the middle of it. Only then, in this very mortal situation, looking down, did he realise that the white lines of the road, reminded him of something childish - scissor cut out marks.

‘Look at the van with the flashy lights, mummy,’ that’s what he used to say. However, this van wasn’t breakdown service. It was an ambulance. Glass sparkled on the road like crushed ice, mixed with a cocktail of leaking petrol and blood. Someone had decided shaken and stirred was the desired method. Finally, a women slowed down enough for him to get through. Courtesy in the aftermath of a car crash was in short supply. Inhaling the exhaust fumes, Archer had witnessed the carnage. Car-nage, that word was made for the twenty-first century.

Evelyn lie by the roadside. Softly breathing shallow breaths that condensed in the early winter air. It was as if her soul was dissipating from her body. Her skin was an ethereal white with a few tiny purple veins gently pulsing in her temple. Her weary eyelids gradually opened to reveal piercing blue that matched perfectly with her icy surroundings, a glass doll. A river of deep claret trickled down the hard shoulder. The initial shock of the blunt force had given way to numbness and her senses started to fail. Unconciousness overtook her.

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