"Congratulations," Jenna said, already pushing against the twisted door frame. "You've officially upgraded from 'possibly injured' to 'medically confirmed suffering.'"
"That's not—" he chuckled, despite the pain he was in. He ignited his flames, melting away the seat belt that seemed to have jammed.
"They always jam at the worst moment," he swore it was personal.
The melted fabric snapped loose. He sucked in a sharp breath as he slumped forward, cradling his injured shoulder.
Once again, Jenna drew her leg back, slamming it into the door.
The folded metal screamed. The door bent just enough to allow exit.
Jenna slipped out first, dropping awkwardly onto the dirt road outside. She could see the damage now. The engine was damaged beyond repair.
Something sparked. Once. Twice.
Then fire.
Jenna's breath hitched.
Orange flames licked through the crushed hood, spreading hungrily like they had been waiting for this exact moment.
