stumbling forward into the driver’s lap. By my count, there are six in here besides us. Three of them were knocked out and the others are up moving around the cabin. The driver is one of the unconscious ones, but since the car is falling off the track, he wouldn’t have been much help, anyway.

“Snap” goes another support.

And another.

Each new break is causing the car to scream down the track even faster. There’s a shrill scraping sound (like spoons in a meat grinder) that comes with it. Plus, the entire car has dropped to a pretty severe angle now, so everything, including people, is trying to fall out the busted windows. Quinn snatches up a few and the rest tumble into a sloppy pile on top of me. There’s not much else to do...

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