PROLOGUE| Collision Point

   It was dark, and the roads were wet from the recent rain. Tyres slid and skidded as they found and lost their grip on the poorly made road. The windscreen wipers slid back and forth, their rhythmic whining lost under the blare of the radio, on which a man with a strong accent and no sense of how to keep his listeners attention droned on about the weather conditions and how they were affecting travel.

   One hand moved off the steering wheel, adjusting the knob and turning it so that the volume quieted, no longer drowning out the steady roar of the engine. Attention was taken off the silent road briefly, looking down as the radio channel was changed, trying to find some music that was bearable. As such, the Driver missed the headlights reflecting off his windshield as the other car rounded the corner, didn’t even see it till he looked up and saw the vehicle aiming for him with frightening speed. One hand slipped off the volume knob as he made a grab for the wheel, knocking it upwards as he did, so that the grinding and crash of metal went unheard, the screams of the occupants lost beneath the screams of the singers.

* * * * *

   It had started raining again. Small droplets falling from the sky to hit the ground carelessly, spotting the dirt before sinking into it, some drops landing on the few patches of grass, pressing the blades down under their weight. Some fell into the pool of blood that was steadily forming, enlarging it, spreading it out and diluting it until it almost looked like the other puddles forming around the now prone body.

   The fingers twitched, the fingernails painting themselves garishly with the blood they lay in, only to be stamped on by a heavy boot, prompting a groan and a grinding of bone as the arm was wrenched upwards. The body was dragged up, while the supporting figure stepped forward, glass crushing under their boot heel.

   The sky darkened, and without the headlights of the cars to penetrate it the night seemed oppressive and threatening. The moonlight reflected off the puddles of blood and water alike, faintly illuminating the bodies on the ground, some spread-eagled, with their limbs at strange, twisted angles.

   One body lay in a circle of others, one arm lying so that it almost appeared broken, though might have lacked the force to do so. Shards of glass dug into the almost clean-shaven cheek, the blood dripping down stark against the pale flesh and clotting against the stubble. It was touched lightly, by the toe of a boot, and then strong arms reached under, lifting the prone figure, examining it and the car.

   Satisfied, the man was rearranged carefully, his wounds bound tightly with cloth and the smaller pieces of glass removed, while making sure the larger shards weren’t pushed further in. He coughed, and shifted unconsciously, though put up no resistance as he was carried to another car, one that had made its way down the slope a lot more carefully and slowly. He didn’t acknowledge the seat as he was draped across it, or the slamming of the car door as the engine revved up, the tires finding purchase on the wet grass, and turning, driving off into the night.

   Leaving the wreckage of the two cars, and the macabre circle of the occupants beside it behind, the rain, now heavier, was already washing away the blood and dirt that streaked both cars.