The Tampered Score

The chat moved too fast to read cleanly. ["Let’s see him fail today."] ["Last night was luck."] ["I give him three minutes."] The overturned truck lay sideways below the bridge, coolant fog pouring from the cracked cargo box like white smoke. The dangerous part was not the freight. It was the old bridge strut crushed beneath the chassis. If the strut moved even a little more, the entire slope could collapse again. “Is anyone inside?” Aiden asked. “Driver says he’s not sure,” the onsite officer replied. “We detected an unstable heat source. Could be an animal. Could be a trapped person.” Aiden knelt and touched the ground. He could feel it.