The first truck came out of nowhere. Headlights like twin suns, engine roaring as it hurtled toward him. He had barely registered it when a second truck appeared, this one from the left. He froze.
‘Left, right—no, back?’ His body wouldn’t move. His mind screamed at his legs, but they stayed rooted.
The third truck came from behind. Somehow, impossibly, he saw it reflected in the shiny chrome bumper of the first. His breath caught, a hiccup of panic.
'what the hell is going on here? Is a gang after me or something?..... is the devil after my life?'
And then the fourth. It turned the corner with a screech, its grill painted with the logo of some logistics company he’d never heard of. "Rikudo Freight," it read, not that it mattered.
‘You’ve gotta be kidding me,’ he thought. He didn’t even have time to raise his arms in some pathetic attempt at self-defense.
The impact came faster than he expected. The first truck clipped him, spinning his body like a ragdoll into the path of the second. Pain flared briefly, sharp and bright, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. Maybe adrenaline dulled it, or maybe his brain just couldn’t keep up.
