Stagecoach to hell

The stage lurched as Coe was straightening out of a switchback. He felt an instant and paralyzing flash of alarm. My God, Coe thought. My nerves are strung tight. The alarm vanished as the stage continued moving, scraping the hewed-out bank and hanging over the steep drop. His mouth opened wide with an un-screamed cry of fear. His tongue was plastered to the roof of his mouth, and he couldn't make a sound. It seemed as though the right rear wheel of the stage just dropped away from the vehicle. Oh Jesus, he thought. I drove off the edge. We're going over...