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Thursday, four a.m. Thunder rumbled overhead. On the southbound carriageway of the A1, a driver braked suddenly and then lost control. His lorry slewed across the road, fish-tailing as he tried to correct it, then hit the central reservation and literally took off. It flipped, rotating as it travelled through the air in slow motion, before crashing to earth with an almighty racket, sparks flying everywhere as it continued on its roof for several metres.
The tail-gating driver behind couldn’t stop in time. His car aquaplaned on the wet surface and then ploughed into the back of the first car with a low crunching sound, throwing its unbelted rear passenger through the windscreen on to the underside of a third car.
Her body began to cook on the red-hot exhaust.
A third vehicle joined in the madness with an almighty crack, its engine seizing on impact, steam billowing from beneath the bonnet. Then another, and another, in a concertina of mangled metal. An HGV in the nearside lane had no chance. Jack-knifing as its driver swerved to avoid colliding with the others, it took out two cars in the fast lane, pushing one over the central reservation into the path of oncoming traffic.
Metal crumpled like bits of paper, puncturing fuel tanks that spewed a lethal mixture of petrol and diesel on to the road. Glass and bones shattered simultaneously, rupturing internal organs, soft tissue ripped away. A swift death for some. Unimaginable pain for others as their bodies fought to survive. Misery for all concerned.
The road was blocked in both directions. And still vehicles added to the chaos, emerging through the torrential rain at high speed, colliding with upturned cars, resulting in multiple casualties, horns going off, and fire as one car burst into flames.
One minute there was lots of noise . . .
The next, a deathly quiet.
Local stargazer David Hedley was certain the death toll would be high as he looked down at the carnage from the balcony of his third-floor flat. The rain was welcome after days of dry weather but the sudden downpour had caused mayhem. Wrecks with their headlights still illuminated were strewn across wet carriageways, on grass verges, two straddling the central reservation. In utter disbelief he watched motorists emerge from cars, some crawling on their hands and knees, collapsing as their bodies succumbed to horrific injuries.
A flash of lightning lit up the gory spectacle.
One man had a limb missing, a flap of skin hanging loose where his arm once was. Blood pulsed from a main artery and he fell to the ground as two of the walking wounded went to his aid. Dazed and pale. Numb. Unable to take in the full horror in front of them. How anyone had survived at all was a mystery to David. The golden hour would be critical: the difference between life and death. He called the emergency services before rushing out to help.