An animal leapt in front of the car. Julien had a split second to register the huge, dark shape darting out of the woods, the twin reflection of headlights bouncing off inhuman eyes, staring directly at him, before he jerked the wheel instinctively to the right at the same time a thud rang in his ears.

Weightless slipping. The feeling of suddenly being airborne without getting out of your seat. And then the car dropped down with tooth-cracking finality, directly into the snowy ditch.

For a long moment the world felt impossibly still and silent. Empty. He couldn’t hear himself breathing. He couldn’t hear himself think. Julien lay against the steering wheel dazed, pain-free and peaceful for the first time in over a year. Then, like a lever giving way, his body sucked in an agonizing gasp of air. With it, the gears of his brain began to grind once more, and it all came flooding back.

“No, no, no,” Julien whispered. He disentangled himself from the locked-up seat belt and opened the door, barely thinking, and then had to catch it when the gravity of the tilted car sent it hurtling back into his shin. Julien climbed quickly out of the ditch and stumbled down the road, unusually clumsy. “Please no. Please, please, please.” His hands were shaking, a low, constant tremble, and his arms felt so light, so flimsy that he had the nonsensical urge to let them float above his head, like untying two trapped balloons.

Julien squeezed his fists tight at his sides. Enough. Do something. No one else will. He scanned the road, walking back to where he’d swerved, looking for the animal. Not wanting to see it—needing to find it.

But there was nothing there.

Julien found the gouged snow, dark with dirt where he’d first slammed on the brakes and skidded off the road, but that was the only sign of the violence he’d braced himself for. No body or blood. Fur or feathers. No sign that he’d hit anything at all. Except he had.

Hadn’t he? That awful soft thud. Not soft in volume but in texture, if sound could have such a thing. Body-soft. Maybe it hadn’t been hurt. He hadn’t been going fast. Not at all. Even slower than the limit, with all this snow. Maybe the animal had been able to roll over the car and just keep running? Julien stalked from one side of the road to the other as if he’d find some clue as to what to do now. As if the animal might have left a note with a sad face and its insurance information. He’d never hit anything before in his life. If it had been there in the road, he could call...animal control? Some sort of wildlife rehab, maybe? But would they send someone to hike into the woods at nine p.m. at night to track down a wild animal that may be injured or may be fine?

Julien blew out a long breath that clouded in the air and reluctantly walked back to the car. With no cell service it was a moot point. He’d need to hike down the road until he could get bars, anyway. He’d need a tow truck, too. The very top of the windshield was shattered and long cracks ran like roots over the rest of the glass. The rental company wouldn’t be pleased.