Chapter 27 The Accident
Dante's POV
Glasses shattered and sprayed over me, the car went rushing back and tumbling over the pavement and off the road, what was that?
I coughed hard, choking on dust and what felt like smoke. I tried as I could to steady my breathing but my heart kept racing and my lungs began to burn from all the smoke and chaos.
What the hell just slammed into me? I asked myself again as I struggled to get a hold of my surroundings.
Everything hurt. There were sharp pains shooting through my ribs, my leg was twisted in an awkward manner and the same could be said about my hands.
I blinked fast, trying to clear the fog from my brain and see through the smoke around me. It was then I noticed that I was hanging upside down in my chair, still strapped to it by the seatbelt.
Then the belt began to dig into my shoulder, holding me suspended like a damn puppet. My head pounded with a sharp headache while a certain liquid trickled down my face, probably blood from a cut. My arms ached.
"Fuck," I muttered in a way too raspy voice that I barely recognized. I shook my head slightly. Bad idea.
"Argh," I groaned, lifting a hand to my head as much as I could. The world around me spun more than before.
After a few seconds, when the pain settled, I looked out the cracked window to my side. It was pretty much dark out there, but two bright lights shone everywhere. Headlights from the road?
A shadow stepped between the lights, blocking it. It was a tall figure, a man and he began coming slowly towards where I was. It must have been the bastard who rammed me over. It had to be.
I watched him get closer till I noticed the shape of something that looked so much like a gun in his hand.
"Shit," I cursed and reached for the seatbelt buckle. I struggled with pain as I was in a very uncomfortable position till I finally reached it and clicked it, unlocking it and setting me free.
I twisted my body quickly to avoid landing straight on my head. I turned fast enough so I dropped on my shoulders. It hurt terribly, but much better than cracking my skull.
"Fuck it," I grunted as I rolled and pushed myself slightly up. Then I quickly reached for the glove box, particularly my gun I keep inside there. My fingers searched around quickly but grabbed it firmly. I took a quick look at it. It's all good.
I began firing towards the shadow. I fired three quick shots through the space created by the broken glasses. More pieces flew around and I threw a hand over my eyes to protect it.
I opened my eyes to catch the fleeing figure of the stranger as he bolted back towards the light.
That should give me some much needed time, I thought. Then shifted my position slightly even though it still hurt. I got my legs facing the driver's door and kicked it hard. The door shook but didn't budge.
Then, just as I was prepping for another kick, bullets sprayed from the direction of the light. It hammered against the car violently, destroying what wasn't already destroyed.
I shuffled back as fast as I could, squeezing behind the front seats for cover. Many rounds tore through the car. Sparks of flames burst out from the bonnet. The smell of burnt metal filled the air. It may not be long before this car blows up, I thought to myself.
I panicked slightly, waiting for a window of an opportunity to break out. Soon, the firing seized from the attacker. This was my opportunity.
I waited for another second to come, my heart was slamming against my chest. Then I peeked out from behind the seat, no sign of him.
So I turned back as fast as I could and kicked the door again, harder this time. It flew open with a loud sound and I scrambled out from the back.
There was barely any time. The attacker began firing at me the moment I rolled out, just barely missing me as I kept rolling and crawling till I went around the car.
He went still again, my turn. I took a deep breath before returning fire. One by one, I kept firing from my pistol to where I felt he was. It lacked the sheer firepower and force his had, but my experience kicked in and I was sure I had him pinned back.
I mentally mapped out the spot he could be. I kept my shots sharp, picking different angles. I aimed low, hoping for his knees or gut.
For a while, he didn't return fire. Then I heard an engine revving, and it wasn't mine.
I rushed out from behind the car as fast as I could. My legs hurt a lot and my lungs kept burning, but I ignored it. I scrambled towards the road as he began peeling the car from the road side.
I fired towards the car but the bullets just bounced off without a dent. Fucking bullet proofs. The engine growled louder as he made a turn just as I was reaching the pavement.
The bastard sped off immediately.
I kept firing at the retreating car. He kept swerving from side to side, not bothering to return fire. I emptied my pistol but the result was inevitable, he kept going before fading down the road.
I stood there, at the road side with my chest heaving hard. I lowered the gun and yelled. "Figlio di puttana!"
In frustration, I kicked the pavement hard, scuffing my designers before rubbing my hair wildly, pacing around a small circle.
Who the fuck was that? Romano? Luca? That strange hoodie fellow? Or maybe someone else who wanted me dead?
The sky above me lightened as dawn came creeping in. It was still dark enough to hide tracks though. I scanned around, fixing my gun into.my pants. I searched just in case. There were no other cars, no witnesses. It was the perfect spot for an ambush.
I couldn't help but wonder how he knew I'll be here when I was actually here.
I strolled back to my car, my precious upside down beauty.
"Fuck him," I cursed again as I reached it. It was a new ride, and I barely got to use it. I loosened my tie with anger, yanking it off.
Got to the car and pulled the door out before leaning in. Then I reached for my phone, lighting the screen up and spotting several cracks. Good thing it still works.
It was just about 4:35 a.m.
Shit. I had been out longer than I thought.
I walked back towards the road slowly, using my phone light to swoop ground. I was looking for anything, shells, debris, signs, anything that could give a hint to who this was.
Bingo. The light caught something in the sand.