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Despite convulsions wracking his body, and an overwhelming sense of shock, Justin Harrison can still tell that his left arm is bent in a direction other than the one for which it was designed. When he moves his head – and he is clear-headed enough to be relieved he can move – he realizes he is lying in a ditch some thirty yards from his now-burning car.
As pain begins sweeping through his extremities, and ambulance sirens sound in the distance, he grapples with the impossible memory of a man who protected him during his flight through the windshield.