Chapter 1 - The Eighth Driver
The black sedan flipped twice before smashing into the center divider less than a hundred feet in front of Daniel Park’s truck.
Metal screamed across wet asphalt.
Glass burst into the rain.
Smoke began pouring from the crushed hood before the car had fully stopped moving.
Daniel slammed on the brakes.
His old Ford shuddered beneath him, tools crashing together in the bed behind the cab.
For three seconds, every vehicle around him slowed.
A silver SUV passed first.
Then a white Honda.
A delivery van.
A Tesla.
A landscaping truck.
Two more cars followed, each driver turning toward the wreck before accelerating away.
Seven cars saw the smoke.
Seven people decided someone else would stop.
Daniel remained behind the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard clock.
8:49 a.m.
He was already late for a cabinet repair in Folsom.
The customer had promised him $340 in cash if the job was completed before noon.
That money would cover the overdue electric bill in Daniel’s apartment and the next month of piano lessons for his seven-year-old daughter, Lily.
Her first recital began at eleven.
That morning, she had hooked her little finger around his.
“Front row center,” she said.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
His phone began ringing through the truck speakers.
Marcus Chen.
The customer waiting with the repair job and the money Daniel desperately needed.
Smoke thickened around the sedan.
Traffic continued moving.
Someone else would stop.
Someone with better equipment.
Someone who was not choosing between a stranger and his daughter’s front-row seat.
Then a hand struck weakly against the shattered passenger window.
Daniel put the truck in park.
He called emergency services while running through the rain.
“Highway 50 eastbound,” he said. “Single-car rollover against the divider. One person trapped. Possible fuel leak.”
“Emergency crews are responding. Stay away from the vehicle.”
Daniel smelled gasoline before he reached it.
“I can’t wait.”
He wrapped his flannel shirt around one fist and knocked the remaining glass from the passenger window.
Inside, a woman hung sideways against her seat belt.
Her white suit was torn and darkened with rain and blood. One arm was pinned between the seat and the collapsed console.
She was breathing.
Barely.
“Can you hear me?”
Her eyes opened.
At first, they seemed to look through him.
Then terror filled them.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t die.”
Daniel thought she meant him.
Then she gasped another word.
“Emma.”
“Who’s Emma?”
“My daughter.”
“How old?”
“Nine.”
Daniel reached for the seat belt release.
“Then stay awake for Emma.”
The woman’s uninjured hand caught his wrist.
“The briefcase.”
“We’re getting you out first.”
“No.”
She pointed weakly toward the rear seat.
“Black case. Tablet beside it.”
“Your car is catching fire.”
“If they disappear, millions of people could be affected.”
Daniel looked through the smoke.
A black leather briefcase was wedged beneath the front seat.
Beside it lay a cracked tablet bearing a silver corporate emblem.
His phone rang again.
This time the screen displayed one name.
Lily.
Daniel stood in the rain with the vibrating phone in one hand and a crowbar in the other.
Behind him, the woman screamed.
He did not answer.
May you like
“Seven people already drove past,” he said.
Then he crawled into the burning car.
