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The glass shattered, and she climbed inside, burning her hands as she did. The seatbelt seemed jammed on purpose. She pulled, yanked, and tore at it until she finally freed the man. The moment she dragged him several meters away, the gas tank exploded, tearing the night apart with a fireball.<\/p>\n
She was about to call an ambulance, but the man opened his eyes and rasped:<\/p>\n
\u2014 P-please\u2026 I can\u2019t go to a hospital.<\/p>\n
His injuries were severe, his burns dangerous \u2014 but in his voice there was a desperate, almost deadly \u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d Natalie decided not to risk it. She loaded him into her car and took him home, to her small wooden house on the outskirts.<\/p>\n
The night was long. She cleaned his wounds, bandaged them, listened to his heavy breathing. The stranger was strong, muscular \u2014 but exhausted. He didn\u2019t say who he was; he only asked for water and slipped back into sleep.<\/p>\n
At dawn, Natalie walked to the window \u2014 and froze.<\/p>\n
A black van with tinted windows had stopped in front of her house. Slowly, silently. Natalie gripped the windowsill, her heart dropping.<\/p>\n
\u201cI shouldn\u2019t have brought him home,\u201d she thought, and then\u2026 \ud83d\ude28\ud83d\ude32 Continued in the first comment \ud83d\udc47\ud83d\udc47<\/p>\n
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