Chapter 1611:
They had ruled Wront for years, always the ones doing the hunting. Since when had prey ever dared turn around and bare its teeth?
“If they’re that eager for a coffin, I’ll be happy to arrange it.”
A savage curl tugged at the corner of the driver’s mouth, cruelty gleaming in his gaze. Without warning, he reached beneath the console and mmed his thumb onto a concealed red switch.
Click.
A breathter, a hidden panel beneath the reinforced rear bumper slid open without a sound.
tter — tter — tter.
Metal rang sharply against asphalt. Dozens of custom-forged steel caltrops spilled out in a lethal cascade, skittering across the road like shards of ck ice. Each spike had been heat-hardened, honed to punch straight through run-t tires. At this speed, any vehicle that rolled over them would lose control instantly — and at that velocity, loss of control meant only one oue.
“Go to hell.” The driver locked eyes with the reflection in the rearview mirror, a cold, vicious smile carving itself across his face.
Inside the lead SUV, the member of The Mask behind the wheel kept his attention locked on the fleeing truck, his hands steady on the vibrating steering wheel. “Fifty yards. Closing fast. Preparing to trap them.”
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But before the final word left his mouth, an explosive crack tore through the night.
The front left tire detonated first, bursting apart as shredded rubber whipped violently into the air. A split secondter, the front right tire ruptured under the same unseen assault. The vehicle convulsed beneath him — a savage force wrenching through the frame, the steering wheel bucking wildly in his grip as if trying to tear itself free.
SCREEEECH!
The piercing scream of tortured brakes shredded the silence. The SUV lurched violently sideways, its rear swinging out of control. The chassis tilted at a dangerous angle, metal grinding against asphalt as a spray of bright orange sparks erupted beneath it.
BOOM!
Momentum carried the crippled vehicle straight into the guardrail. The collision struck with crushing force, lifting the SUV clear off its wheels before it flipped into the drainage ditch below. Thick ck smoke erupted immediately, swallowing the wreck in a suffocating cloud.
“Number one is down! We’ve been hit!”
“Spikes on the road! Stay off them — stay off them!”
Panicked warnings burst through thems, voices ovepping in raw rm.
Directly behind, Grayson witnessed the disaster unfold without missing a second. As Wildebell’s top detective, instinct took over where thought could not keep up.
“Hold on!” he bellowed.
His hands wrenched the steering wheel hard to the left while his foot hammered the brakes in rapid, controlled bursts. His SUV tore past the wrecked lead vehicle, its side mming hard against the guardrail. Metal screamed as he forced the vehicle to grind along the barrier, bleeding off speed through sheer friction. A storm of sparks burst outward like molten rain, the entire frame shuddering violently — but he forced it back under control through raw strength and precision.
.
.
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