With a casual and undramatic flick of her wrist, Delaney span the wheel and sent the jeep careening off the side of the road, over a curb, and into a long glass storefront. Bloomington fired her gun and splattered the entire left side of the jeep with Delaney's blood but by then the car had lost complete control in a shower of shattered glass. The tire hit something and sent the jeep airborne. Sloan's seatbelt pinned her to her seat as the car corkscrewed into a series of display cases and shelves. One of the two assailants soared between the seats and out the windshield. She bounced against the ground and out of sight as the jeep screeched to a halt on its side.

Sloan's blood dribbled down her forehead and pooled on her lip, although she did not recall hitting her head. Oh wait, it was Delaney's blood dripping from the ceiling. Books and pamphlets drifted to the ground in a wash of torn paper. Through the empty windshield, Sloan made out a life-size cardboard cutout of William Shakespeare in all his bardly apparel, a speech bubble extending from his mouth to deliver the message that CLASSICS 25% OFF!

She fumbled for her seatbelt, her entire world turned sideways. Her hand slipped against the latch twice before she disengaged the button and released herself from her seat. Delaney's body, half its skull missing, hung from the seat above her. She tried to find the latch for Delaney's seatbelt but gave up and crawled through the shards of glass to escape the overturned jeep.

The crash had left her remarkably lucid. None of the disorientation of a concussion, or even the expected dizziness of three corkscrews through a bookstore. She even had the clarity to realize the pain-dampening effects of her overcharged Soul Gem.

(Chapter 16)