Lydia flailed for support. There had to be something, anything to grab. But her hands sliced through thick rushing air. She would splatter on the road. She—was caught. Two arms wrapped under her chest. “Gotcha!” Jando said. He and Sylvia pulled Lydia in through the car’s window. She panted heavily. She was alive. Lydia touched her face and body. She was alive.
“Thanks,” she said, catching her breath. She stared at the floorboard.
“No problem,” Jando said.
Several bullets pinged off the car’s exterior. Everyone ducked, covering their heads. Heather fired at them from the cab’s roof. After a couple more shots, the right front tire exploded with a loud pop! The officer driving the vehicle lost control and the police car jerked off the road. It flipped onto its side and skidded along the open ground.
Everyone in the car was thrown around. Lydia crashed into Aidan’s stomach. She glimpsed the truck barreling away, several police cars in pursuit. Everyone was tangled up in a mess with one another. She was bunched up against the seats with Sylvia. Lydia yanked her arms out from underneath Aidan and, with difficulty, sat up. Then she pushed opened the rear passenger door, which now faced the sky, and struggled to escape from the wrecked vehicle.