A Curve In The Road Novels & Stories

Gabriel corrected fast, but the road had glazed under the new snow, and the car fishtailed before straightening. I swallowed the sound that rose in my throat. “Belt,” Gabriel snapped. I pulled it loose. “Head down if I tell you.” “You keep saying romantic things.” The sedan hit us again. This time on the other side. The window beside me starred at one corner. I ducked instinctively, one arm over my head, the phone sliding from my lap onto the floor mat. Gabriel cursed once, low and flat. Not panic. Decision. Through the windshield I saw the road narrowing toward the service curve near the river embankment. Too little space. Stone wall on one side. Drop beyond the snow bank on the other.

Neither of them dropped back. I exhaled and pushed the speed up another notch. The road curved through the outer edge of the territory where the pack residential areas began… smaller houses, open yards, the parts of Northline that existed outside the compound’s walls. Children who played in the road because they knew these were safe streets. I came around the curve. It happened in less than a second. A small shape. Low to the ground, moving fast across the road from the left, the way young pups did when they were chasing something and hadn’t yet learned to check for engines.

The road curves ahead of us, leading toward the far opposite side of the estate. The forbidden side. The scenery changes almost immediately. The path grows narrower, the light dimmer. Trees press closer, their branches weaving together overhead, creating a tunnel of shadow and quiet. The world seems to hushed here, like it is holding its breath. I keep my eyes on the road as it stretches forward, darker, less touched. My mind starts picking up details without asking permission. A broken branch on the left. A patch of dirt where tires have turned before. The slight dip in the road that makes the car sink for a moment before rising again.

• Beyond the ridge, the road appeared. Or what was left of it. Once it must have been a two-lane asphalt road with painted lines, guardrails, warning signs. Now the asphalt was cracked, the old white stripes replaced by greyish, uneven smears—like faded scars on an ancient body. One side of the road was lined with a rain-filled ditch; the other was littered with fallen signs: “Dangerous Section,” “12% Descent,” “Caution, Curve!” “If I ever wanted to cause an accident, I’d do it right here.” I stopped, surveying the broken line. “One badly timed skid and no one gets through for days.”

I ran harder. The mountain road narrowed after the second switchback — single lane, stone wall on one side, the valley dropping away on the other. At wolf speed through the turns I was gaining. The car couldn't take the tight corners at the speed it wanted to run, had to brake, had to find the line, had to operate within the physics of a vehicle while I operated within the physics of something considerably less constrained. Third switchback. I was close enough to see the plates.

Their hit missed by inches, scraping the back instead of striking the tire. Sparks flew. Noah flinched. “They won’t stop.” “No,” I said, jaw tight. “They won’t.” We reached a curve in the road. Sharp. Dangerous. Perfect. “Noah,” I said quietly. “Hold on to something.” “What—” I didn’t let him finish. I hit the brakes for half a second, then turned the wheel sharply into the curve. Tires screamed. The car behind us wasn’t ready—they shot forward too fast. They tried to follow but their momentum carried them wide.

********* ****** ********* “Damn” Bobby cursed as the driver of his car blared the car horn. The Red Range Rover was blocking the road just a few meters before their destination. The car had made a careless u – turn and almost caused an accident, they expected that it would drive off as soon as it turned but the driver halted in the middle of the road, obstructing cars from passing on the lanes. What had saved her from the wrath of the police was a “L” tag behind the car.

"I spent years trying to earn your love. And the truth is… you're simply incapable of loving anyone." Edward didn't reply. A strange unease twisted in his chest as the wind chilled the car interior. Traffic was sparse on the mountain road, trees on both sides forming a natural barrier that blocked most of the sunlight. Dappled shadows flickered across the pavement. The road ahead seemed perfectly ordinary. Until, on a sharp curve, a large cargo truck suddenly veered out of its lane. Moments ago, it had been driving normally. Then, without warning, it crossed the center line—racing straight toward them like an unmanned beast.

He ate his chicken wings in a relaxed fashion as if everything was under control. The sky turned dark very quickly. That night, ten motorcades gathered at Mount Disc. It was the mountain that had the most dangerous and most turns in the Southland District. When people drove there, they usually had to be very focused as an accident could possibly occur at any time. Many drivers would not simply go there because they knew the road was not easy to navigate. Aside from the high number of curves and steep roads, some roads looked straight from far but people would realize the roads were curved when they drove closer. The location would mislead people.

But what's on his mind right now is how to escape from Ezra's pursuit and get the rest of the payment from his grumpy boss. When they passed the intersection, the curly one honked loudly to let everyone know that he was going through and his car was going very fast. But suddenly a very slow tractor crossed the crossroads. The curly was shocked and panicked. He tried to avoid a collision by swerving to the right. However, because the speed of the car was too fast, the car actually skidded on a muddy road. The car hovered in the air for two brief seconds, then rolled over the muddy ground three times, then stopped upside down.