Amanda didn't move. She maintained her grip on the steering wheel and faced front, knowing she had run out of time to formulate a plan. The man would not allow her to stop the car, and Mark could not help but be alerted to his conscious and threatening presence is she failed to respond to his command.
Blinking furiously she tried to think, her thoughts coalescing in her mind to form nothing but incomprehensible, panic-stricken chaos.
She flicked her eyes to the man, afraid of what she might see.
His eyes were open, piercing into her face, the hint of a thin-lipped sneer playing on his face.
"Do not stop the car."
The order was spoken in a whisper, an undertone so low that Amanda barely caught his words.
"Amanda? He's not breathing, stop the car now!"
Mark's voice resounded loudly in Amanda's head, the anxiety in his voice tearing into her nerves.
She didn't know what to do.
"Stop the car, and I'll kill you…"
"Amanda?!"
She made the decision on an impulse.
Slamming her foot down onto the brake, Amanda sent the car into a skid, sheering across the wet road, struggling to maintain control of the car. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable explosion of gunfire from beside her.
It never came.
The yell of surprise from the back of the car was nothing in comparison to the shriek that was emitted from the man who sat besides her.
The force with which the car jerked to a halt was tremendous, sending the man hurtling forwards, his body slamming into the windscreen and through the glass out onto the wet road.
Amanda though was held secure by the belt which bound her to her seat. She felt it cut roughly into her shoulder and stomach, and she gasped for breath as the pressure winded her, a powerful thrust driving into the back of her seat and forcing her forwards even more so.
Eyes open wide as she struggled to breathe she found her gaze fixed on the man whose body had come to halt on the grey tarmac. He had rolled like a rag doll over and over before coming to a stop and now lay, arms spread wide, one leg bent at an odd angle, in the middle of the road. A small pool of blood was oozing from his head, seeping insidiously outwards to form what looked like a crimson halo.
Amanda felt her vision drifting in and out of focus, and she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to force air into her unwilling lungs.
A cool morning breeze was drifting lazily into the car through the hole in the shattered windscreen, carrying with it the fine mist of rain that persisted in falling. The small beads of water mingled with the blood that spattered the remnants of splintered glass causing it to run downwards in rivulets, staining the remains of the windscreen.
Wheezing slightly, Amanda prised her eyes open. She realised her hands were still clenched to the steering wheel, her grip so firm that her knuckles were drained of colour. Peeling her grasp away from the sticky leather she found that the prickly sensation of pins and needles instantly burst into life in her fingers, and with trembling arms she dropped her hands into her lap.
Amanda did not move.
She could feel a tremor running repeatedly through her body, and the ringing which echoed through her head was deafening.
I've killed him, she thought apathetically, her mind empty but for the image of the man lying spread-eagled in the road.
The sound of moaning from the back of the jeep shook her from her reverie and she twisted in her seat, a blast of pain shearing through her shoulder as she did so.
Jesse! She thought frantically, clumsily trying to unbuckle herself from the vehicle.
Finally managing to do so Amanda pulled at the door, her shaking hands struggling to grip the latch that would release her from the car.
Clambering from the vehicle Amanda scurried to open the door, wrenching it hard enough to cause another bolt of pain to radiate through her shoulder.
Emitting a whimper of discomfort Amanda paused for a moment, taken aback by the sight that met her eyes.
She had had no chance to give warning of her actions. She hadn't really known herself what she was going to do until she had done it.
No one in the back had been wearing seat belts.
The jumble of bodies that littered the rubber matting of the floor was a visual image that Amanda knew she would never forget.
Bodies twisted half on, half off the seats, squashed into the cramped space – neither Steve nor Jesse was moving. Mark appeared to be trying to extricate himself from the mass of intertwined arms and legs, a vibrant red bruise inflaming his left cheek.
Unable to move herself Amanda watched for a moment, before pulling herself together enough to move forwards to help.
"Mark!" She cried, stumbling forwards, arms outstretched.
She leant into the vehicle, helping Mark to his knees. He struggled to find balance, but pulled away from her almost instantly.
"Jesse…" He mumbled, stooping down again to tend him.
"Mark..?" Amanda hesitated in questioning his findings, knowing what her actions may have led to.
"There's still no pulse," Mark breathed frenetically.
He began to edge backwards out of the vehicle, dragging Jesse with him.
Amanda did her best to help, but Mark persisted in his actions, completely disregarding the assistance that was being offered, not through anger but blindly dogged determination.
Jesse's body hung limply as he was pulled from the vehicle, showing no semblance of life.
Mark held him beneath his arms and laid him as gently as he was able onto the wet road before kneeling beside him.
Amanda stood back and watched, held again in a torpor that prevented her from springing into the action she knew was desperately needed.
Mark again tipped Jesse's head back and sealed his nose before breathing deeply into his lungs. He worked quickly and efficiently, straightening up and locking his elbows before beginning compressions.
Jesse's frail body jerked as Mark repeatedly pressed into his chest, again and again as his frame was pummelled.
Amanda stood, entranced by the view of Mark trying to force life back into one of her best friends, the man who had delivered her first born child.
The rain, though fine, had successfully drenched her trembling body once again, and she pushed her sodden hair from her face.
"Amanda, help me!" Mark turned his face to Amanda's, eyes pleading for her assistance.
She dropped to her knees and positioned herself above Jesse, interlocking her fingers and taking over the compressions which had thus far been unsuccessful.
"One, two, three…" She counted aloud in time with her movements, eyes focused on her laced fingers as she pressed down firmly into Jesse's chest. The degree of coldness that she felt beneath her fingers was startling; there was no more warmth in Jesse's skin than there was in the corpses she examined daily in her lab.
"…eight, nine, ten." Amanda sat back onto her heels as Mark once again attempted to aerate Jesse's unwilling lungs.
Resuming the compressions Amanda found her mind had cleared. All remorse and guilt had drained from her mind as she applied rhythmic pressure to Jesse's chest, focused entirely on the task at hand.
The ritual continued in silence until Mark held out his hand to stop Amanda. Without speaking he placed his fingers to Jesse's neck to feel for a pulse.
There was none.
"No!"
Recommencing the breathing component of the CPR Mark looked expectantly at Amanda who obligingly began compressions again.
Over and over they repeated the exercise, the minutes ticking past, and each search for a pulse generating the same disappointing results.
"Dammit Jesse, don't you do this!" Mark lifted his hand high above Jesse's chest he slammed it vehemently into his body, a sickening crunch sounding almost as if in response to the thud the impact had made.
A wave of nausea swelled into Amanda's throat as she realised Mark had just broken one or more of Jesse's ribs, and she recoiled in dismay. The violent attempt to restart Jesse's heart was an extreme measure, but Amanda knew it could work.
"Mark..?"
He waved a hand in her face, demanding silence.
Dispensing with the search for the pulse in the carotid artery Mark dropped his head to Jesse's chest and pressed his ear down to listen.
The silence roared in his head, thunderous like the crashing of waves.
And then a heartbeat. Dull and muffled, but a heartbeat.
The sigh of relief that Mark emitted as he lifted his head was answer enough to Amanda's unspoken question.
She sat back onto the road, ignoring the shock of cold that met her saturated clothing. Raising a trembling hand to her face she stifled a cry, tears cascading down her face. All composure was lost and she broke down in a cacophony of silent sobs.