Not Your Typical Event

I realized what was happening before Mark did. I grabbed the wheel in an attempt to diverge it away from the oncoming vehicle, but as I pulled the wheel to the right, the vehicle spun out and stopped. The car was now sideways, with the passenger side about to be hit directly by the SUV speeding at us. I was sitting in the passenger side.

It was like a slow-motion movie scene after that point. The car sped up even more, as I desperately attempted to unclip my seat belt. I succeeded, but it was too late. The car slammed into ours, T-boning us essentially. I had leaned left, but the effect was opposite, as was undoing the seatbelt. My head continued left before slamming right again, into the window, shattering it. Due to the fact that I was unhindered by the belt, my whole body went with it. The SUV was still driving, propelling us down the roadway at a frightening speed. Mark was screaming his head off, but I couldn’t see how badly he was hurt, blood was covering my eyes. My whole face felt wet with the stuff, I could feel it coating my hands as I tried to subdue the profuse bleeding. The other vehicle suddenly jerked to a stop, backing it off of the one I was sitting in. My car skidded, rolling up and onto its left side, the side where Mark was sitting. I looked over in horror as my cousin’s head smashed into the concrete with a sickening thud. I was gripping the door handle with white knuckles on my side, because if I didn’t, I would drop onto Mark. The level of pain I felt was excruciating, my head had smashed into the windshield at one point, as well as the window. My hip felt like someone had stomped on it, and the amount of blood I was losing at the moment was unbelievable. I was screaming, louder than any sound I’d ever heard, besides the shatter of glass and shredding of metal I had witnessed a few minutes before. I knew I had to get out of the car, I just didn’t know how.

Mark was unconscious now, I had to get him out of the car as well. In order to do that though, I needed a way out myself. The door to my right was completely smashed in, obviously. The windshield was still intact, and the car was still laying on its side, preventing me from getting out on the opposite side. I was not about to wait for emergency responders to arrive, as long as I was alert and able, I needed to help my older cousin. I used the small fracture in the windshield in front of me to break the whole thing, by using Mark’s ashtray. I climbed carefully through the newly established opening. I pulled Mark out, cautiously and stably, to prevent further injury. I could finally hear the sirens in the distance, after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only five minutes. I checked Mark’s pulse, he was tachycardic, probably due to his loss of blood. There were glass fragments everywhere on his face and side. I feebly tried to stop the bleeding on his head, where it was most prominent. I removed his shirt and used it to apply pressure to the wound. I did the same for me, leaving only my used-to-be-white cami underneath, now crimson in color. Both of my hands were now occupied, so I couldn’t signal the cars that had arrived. About five men stepped out of two large black Escalades, rushing toward me. The ambulance followed suit, rushing over to me as well. The men wore bulletproof vests with FBI printed on them. My eyes remained on them as the EMT’s finally reached me.

A middle-aged paramedic with pale green eyes reached me first. “No, no, save Mark, save him. He’s in worse shape than me. He’s a better person than me. He’s tachycardic, he’s losing too much blood. Please. Please.” I begged him, my hand still trying to stop the blood pouring from his wounds. He ignored me, and instead pushed my hand aside and examined my wound. He motioned for someone to bring over the stretcher. One of the FBI agents, a solemn dark haired man, did as he was asked and wheeled it over. The green-eyed guy lifted me effortlessly onto the rolling stretcher, but I struggled. “I can wait ! Seriously, he’s losing too much blood, stop the bleeding. You have to stop the bleeding.” I kept begging him, but to no avail. “Sweetie, there’s been a lot of accidents today, I’m the only paramedic available right now, I’ll do what I can. But you’re top priority.” “The victim with the most injury is top priority, and that’s not me.” The FBI guy was trying to keep me calm, but I was not having it. I didn’t understand what was going on; why was the FBI involved, and why wouldn’t anyone help Mark ? His injuries were obviously much more life-threatening than mine… what was the big secret here ?

Hotch’s POV
“Guys, we got a call. Our unsub just struck again.” This case was unlike anything they had ever seen before. The unsub’s M.O. was colliding head on with other vehicles, using his large SUV. What they hadn’t been able to figure out yet though, was his motive, and how he was able to survive the crashes when the other victims couldn’t. How had the unsub managed to claim so many vic’s in such a short amount of time, and survive that many car crashes ? His car had to be able to blend in with the public, but there must be something different about it that makes it able to withstand such force. Morgan broke his reverie. “-tch. Hotch ?” “What ?” he asked, turning from his place in the passenger seat of the black squad car to face Morgan. His brawny co-worker was questioning him about the amount of ambulances in the area. Had he forgotten to inform them about the case ? The stress of the unknown of this particular case was really getting to him, already. “The unsub is using his vehicle as his weapon of choice, he’s already claimed eighteen victim’s today. There appears to be no correlation between the vic’s, the vehicle’s weren’t the same, and the passenger’s were completely different. We’re headed to a crash site right now, it just happened.” There’s only one local ambulance left in the area right now, they’re on their way now.” “Eighteen victims ? Damn, this guy doesn’t waste any time.” Morgan commented in disbelief. “The amount of victim’s portrays that the unsub has a lot of rage.” Reid said. Hotch faced forward, realizing Reid was right. Hotch sighed, this was going to be a long day, with a lot more victim’s to come.

As they arrived at the scene, Hotch jumped out of the car, unable to believe what he was seeing. A young girl had survived the crash ! She was holding a pile of cloth to her own head as well as to the head of a man laying on the ground unconscious. She was completely covered in blood, and the car behind her was laying on its side, the windshield busted out and the right side completely smashed in. A paramedic was rushing up to her. She was saying something to him, but he didn’t know what. The medic motioned for him to retrieve the stretcher and bring it over. He did, wondering what Morgan and Reid were doing at the moment. The paramedic lifted the young girl onto the stretcher, as she argued with him. She was actually telling him to help her friend first ! Hotch shook his head in disbelief, and tried to calm the girl down. She was inconsolable. The girl looked at him, and her piercing green eyes seemed to look right through him, as if she knew this wasn’t just a typical hit and run.