Eleanor's POV
I ran.
My own pain, the blood on my temple, the ache in my limbs—none of it mattered. I skidded to a halt at the wreckage of Mira's supercar. The flames were dying, leaving behind a skeleton of smoldering, twisted metal.
"Mira!" I shouted, my voice raw.
She was slumped in the driver's seat, unconscious. I braced my feet, grabbed the warped frame of the door, and pulled with everything I had. Metal screamed in protest, but it gave way. I ducked inside, the smell of burnt plastic and ozone thick in the air.
With careful, frantic hands, I unclipped her harness and hauled her out, pulling her clear of the wreckage.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
***
The medical facility at the Serpent's Kiss was a chaotic symphony of low groans, urgent voices, and the smell of antiseptic. Racers and crew were being patched up, while others huddled in shock, talking about the "track going insane."
