The interior of the LC300 had no space left to give.
Metal groaned again as the frame continued to bend inward, the torn side opening stretching wider with each push from outside. The vehicle shifted slightly on its side, every movement sending broken glass sliding across the floor.
The Hunter didn't stop.
It forced more of its body through the gap, pushing past twisted metal as if it wasn't there. The edges scraped along its surface, bending further, widening the opening until it could move with less resistance.
Inside, Jayson backed up until his shoulders hit the front seats.
There was nowhere else to go.
"Shoot it!" the driver shouted, his voice breaking as he fumbled with the door handle that refused to open.
Jayson fired.
The muzzle flash lit the interior again and again, each shot cracking against the confined space. The rounds struck the Hunter at near point blank range, the impact visible in the way its body jerked.
But it didn't stop.
It kept coming.
Relentless.
