I heard an eruption of metal, sand, and dirt. Another. A wailing horn. Steady. Terrible.
Our speed choked back. The guardrail clicked past slower and slower.
The truck had barely stopped when Jake flipped open his cell phone.
“Shit.”
“No signal?”
“Piece of crap.” Jake tossed the phone on the dash and jabbed at the glove box. “Flashlights.”
While I found Mag-Lites, Jake dug flares from the back of the truck. Together, we sprinted up the tarmac.
The guardrail gaped jagged and curled. We peered past, down the hill. The fog was a dense ocean, swallowing our beams.
As Jake set flares, I hopped the barrier and scrambled down the slope.
In the basin, my light picked out a trail of shapes. A hubcap. A side panel. A side-view mirror.
The Citroen was a pitch-black hump in the darkness. I probed it with the Mag-Lite.
The car had impacted, flipped, and landed on its roof. Every window was shattered. Steam or smoke hissed from under the crumpled hood.
Purviance was half in, half out the driver’s-side door, twisted like a rag doll tossed to the floor. So much blood smeared her face I couldn’t see skin. Her jacket was saturated.
I heard crunching, then Jake was beside me.
“Jesus Christ!”
“We’ve got to get her out,” I said.
Together, Jake and I tried to ease Purviance free. Her body was slick with mist and blood. We kept losing our grip.
Above, a truck braked to a stop. Two men got out and started shouting questions. We ignored them, concentrated on Purviance.
Jake and I changed sides. Nothing worked. We couldn’t get a good angle.
Purviance moaned softly. I grabbed my light and ran the beam the length of her body. Flecks of glass glistened on her clothing and in her blood-soaked hair.
“One foot’s wedged among the pedals,” I said. “I’ll go in through the other side.”
“No way.”
I didn’t wait to argue. Circling the Citroen, I sized up what remained of the passenger window. Big enough.
I dropped my light, doubled over, and squeezed through head-first. Pulling with my elbows, I wriggled to the driver’s side.
Groping like a blind man, I determined I was right. One of Purviance’s feet was broken and jammed behind the brake.
Using outstretched arms, I tried gentle twisting. The foot remained lodged. I shoved harder. No go.
An acrid smell was irritating my nose. My eyes were watering.
Burning rubber!
My heart thudded my rib cage.
Bellying closer, I dropped my upper body over the seat, yanked the zipper of Purviance’s boot, grabbed the heel, and tugged.
I felt some give.
Another hard pull and Purviance’s heel was loose. Using my fingers, I shoehorned her foot.
“Now!” I screamed when the toes slid free.
As Jake tugged, I wormed the foot through the pedals. Then I muscled back-ass out the window.
Smoke was pouring from the engine.
Voices were shouting from the highway. I didn’t need a translator.
“Get back!”
“It’s going to blow!”
Circling the Citroen, I grabbed Purviance under one arm. Jake had the other. Together we tugged her free and eased her to the ground.
Jake dived for the car.
“We’ve got to get clear!”
Jake was enveloped in smoke. I could see his lanky form darting forward and back.
“Jake!”
Jake was a madman, racing from one shattered window to the next.
“I can’t do this alone!”
Jake left the car and helped me drag Purviance another five yards. Then he raced back to the Citroen and began kicking its trunk.
“It’s going to blow!” I was screaming now.
Jake’s foot pistoned again and again.
Something popped. The hissing grew louder, the smoke thickened.
Were we still in range? A powerful blast would turn auto parts into deadly missiles.
Grabbing Purviance by her upper arms, I turned and began inching backward. Her body was dead weight. Was she already gone? Was I doing her more harm than good?
Foot by foot I dragged.
Three yards.
My hands grew slippery with blood. My palms and fingers were cut by millions of glass slivers.
Five.
Sirens whined in the distance.
My fingers tingled. My legs were dead. But I was hyped on adrenaline. Some fierce internal energy pushed me on.
Finally I decided I was far enough. I allowed Purviance to settle to the ground. Dropping to my knees, I felt her throat.
A weak pulse? I couldn’t be sure.
Ripping Purviance’s jacket. I searched for the wound that was pumping out blood. A black crescent slashed her belly. I pressed a palm to it.
At that moment, a blast tore the night. I heard the awful sound of metal shearing metal.
As my head snapped up the Citroen exploded in a ball of light. Fire burst from the engine, strobing white geysers into the blue-black fog.
Dear God! Where was Jake?
I ran toward the Citroen.
Twenty feet out the heat stopped me like a wall. I threw up an arm.
“Jake!”
The car was an inferno. Flames licked its underbelly and leaped from its windows. No sign of Jake.
“Jake!”
I felt ash and sweat on my face. Mist. Tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Jake!”
A second depth charge blew metal and flames into the sky.
A sob rose in my throat.
Hands gripped my shoulders.
I was yanked roughly back.
40
I’LL TELL YOU RIGHT OUT THE GATE. EVERYONE SURVIVED.
Change that. Everyone survived but the guy in the shroud. He went from being bone to being bone ash.
