The passenger reaches for the shotgun

"What the fu-" was all that emerged from the passengers mouth as he spun around, reaching for the shotgun.

At that moment, they crossed a speed bump and unsteady as she was, the pain still throbbing in her head, Carly was thrown to the floor of the van, letting the gun off as she fell.

The windscreen was coated in a mist of blood and sickly pink chunks as the bullet blasted open the back of the hoodie's skull like a watermelon exploding. In his death throws, he pulled the trigger on the shotgun, unloading it into the drivers lap.

The driver screamed, threw up and the van swerved. Carly tried to pick herself up but was thrown back down by the fishtailing vehicle. Knives and guns fell out of bags and boxes, sliding along with her on the floor like a lethal soup of arsenal. There was a thud and the windscreen became of spidery burst of white lines behind the bloody mess as something or someone flew over the bonnet. A final violent swerve happened and then Carly felt suddenly weightless.

The moment seemed to last forever as she floated from the ground, suspended in the middle of the van. A knife floated past before her eyes and she reached out to grab as just as suddenly as it had disappeared, gravity returned, slamming her this time against the wall of the van with a sickening crunch and she screamed out.

 

The End

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