“Be careful,” she warned.
35
Chapter Three
Trisha’s gaze turned to Bart, studying him. He was still strapped into his seat where the belt held him in place. He appeared to be unconscious now and his hands hung limp against the roof. She saw blood covered his left hand and she reached for it carefully. It was hard to do since it was on the other side of his body.
She inwardly cursed, realizing it appeared to be a crush injury. The skin was torn and she guessed his hand must have been thrown through the window that had been smashed out when they rolled. Her fingertips brushed up his arm, feeling for injuries, and she determined his wrist had also been broken. He’d caught a break there, no pun intended, since the bone hadn’t popped through the skin. He jerked awake.
“Bart?” She swallowed. Her voice kept breaking on her. “Where does it hurt besides the seat belt and your arm?”
“My leg,” he gasped. Tears drowned out the brown of his eyes when he started to cry.
“Can you move both feet?”
“It hurts,” he cried softly.
“Do it, Bart,” Trisha snapped. “Those men could be coming after us. Move your feet. I need you to work with me.”
He moaned in pain. “I feel them and I think they moved.”
Trisha nodded, looking up at where his feet would be. No drips of blood were coming down to hit the roof she lay curled on.
“Listen to me, Bart. I need to find out if your legs are pinned or if we can get you down. I need you to move your legs to see if they are free. Do you understand me?”
“It hurts,” he whined.
Trisha clenched her teeth. “I’m in pain too. Come on. Did you hear me about those men who ran us off the road? They could climb down here and kill us. You need to work with me. I can help you better if we can get you free. I can’t do much for you right now since there’s not enough room to treat you where you are. I have to assess your injures but I need you out of that seat to do it.”
“Okay,” he hissed softly, “I’ll try.”
36
Trisha strained to listen for any sign of Slade but she hadn’t heard any gunshots.
Would Slade just leave them behind to save his own ass? She really hoped not.
“I can move them.” Pain sounded in Bart’s voice.
“Terrific. I know you only have one usable hand but you need to use your good arm to try the door. See if it will open.”
“I can’t.”
Trisha twisted, looking at the passenger side. The glove box had snapped open and things had fallen out. She inched her way to the small area under the passenger seat.
The window remained intact on the passenger side but it was cracked and spider-webbed. She used the paper that had spilled out of the glove box to cover the broken glass that had flown around the interior when the SUV had rolled to protect her body.
She reached for the door handle. It moved but the door didn’t.
“Crap,” she sighed. She looked, realized the door was still locked, and reached up.
She had to work to get the push-button lock to release. She tried the door handle again and this time she heard a click. She twisted until she rested on her back and pushed with one hand while gripping the door handle. The door moved open a few inches before it jammed into the ground outside. “Double crap.”
“Hey, Doc.” Slade leaned down to peer inside the wreckage at her from the passenger window. “Do you want out? I don’t see any of those assholes coming down here after us so far.”
“Can you get the door open?”
Slade lifted his head to study it instead of her. “I don’t know. I’m going to have to push against the side to see if I can lift it a few inches because the dirt is loose here and it’s stuck on it.” He paused. “Maybe. Get ready to feel some movement.”
It sunk in what he meant to do when she saw him turn around and plant his feet by the back passenger door.
