I yanked the wheel to the right, the seat belt slicing across my neck as the car leaped away like startled prey.

The SUV shot past, skimming paint from my front wing, sudden red lights shining in my eyes. I stood on the brakes and swerved around the vehicle, stamping on the accelerator as the road cleared.

Slammed back into the seat, I held on as the car bucked and skidded wildly, fishtailing on the slick side road. Somehow I kept it pointing forward, speeding towards safety.

I risked a glance in the mirrors. The SUV loomed behind, headlights blazing, the grill like bared, feral teeth. I smeared the pedal into the stained, worn carpet, forcing out every bit of speed.

The traffic lights ahead were already on amber. I knew I couldn’t make it, but I absolutely could not stop. Gripping the wheel, I fixed my gaze on the empty road on the other side of the junction.

The engine roared. Horns blared from everywhere. Tyres screeched. Glass smashed. Metal crumpled and buckled. Someone screamed. I didn’t look back.