My heart begins to race as more tears begin to fall. I need to get back to him. I need to tell him I’m sorry and I’m here. I want to be with him, no matter what.
I round the next curve, determined to find a place to turn around, but all I see are headlights.
All I hear is the sound of bending metal and breaking glass.
Then... nothing.
Isaac
I should be sleeping.
The bunkroom is dark, cool, and quiet. Arguably, I sleep better here than at home sometimes.
But I can’t even close my eyes right now. When I do, all I see is her tear-stained face, and all I feel is my heart breaking all over again as I replay our conversation over and over.
I’ve called her cell phone a dozen times. Every single call rings and rings then goes to voicemail. She isn’t ignoring the call, just simply letting the phone go unanswered. I’ve kept my cell clutched in my hand since the moment she ran away from me in hopes she’d answer a text or call me back.
But it stays dark... silent.
“You okay?”
I hear the whisper from the darkened distance then footsteps coming closer to my bunk.
“I’m fine, Grady.”
“We heard what happened. It was hard not to.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. At all.” I stare up at the ceiling, talking without even looking toward him.
“Good, but you need to make sure your head is clear. This can cloud your judgment and we can’t have that right now. If you need to go home—”
“I’m not going home. I can do my job without personal shit getting in the way.”
No sooner do the words leave my mouth does our alarm begin to scream into the night.
Everything happens in a blur.
We jump from our bunks, dress in our gear, and get on the truck in less than ninety seconds.
Codes are being thrown out, indicating a driver called dispatch to report a two-car accident off Manuel Canyon Road. Fuck. If there is one place you don’t want to have an accident, it’s there. With dense forest on one side and a steep embankment down to rocks and trees on the other, it’s a fucking nightmare waiting to happen.
We verbally run through our checklists as we make our way to the crash site. It’s never easy being one of the first people on scene. You never know what you are going to encounter and sometimes, it turns into the worst-case scenario.
When we round the darkened corner, the red taillights from the cars come into view.
There is a white SUV on the side of the road, and the front end is mangled to shit and who I can only assume is the driver is standing next to the guardrail with his cell phone to his ear, looking over at something.
Our truck’s brakes hiss as they’re applied, and I’m the first to hop down out of the truck, making my way over to the man. He’s middle-aged, I think, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He seems to be all right with no outward signs of injury.
“Sir?”
“I’m fine!” he shouts. “Her! Help her!” He points over the guardrail and that’s when I see the second car.
A car whose driver’s side is completed mangled and crushed inward, hanging upside down with its hood toward the rocks at the bottom. A car that is still running, sending exhaust into the air in a thick cloud. A car that is barely held in place by a piece of the metal guardrail caught on the bumper, and if it snaps or gives way, it’ll be a car that is falling straight down into the rocky embankment.
My stomach would be in knots in a normal circumstance, nervous and pumped-up on adrenaline from being on a call, but it’s the color of the car… the make of the car… and the small white flower window decal on the back passenger window that sends my heart into overdrive.
“Sawyer?” I shout, taking off in a full sprint, completely disregarding every safety protocol and rule we have in place, hopping the guardrail, sliding through the mud toward her driver’s side, just to see if I can see inside, careful not to touch the car, afraid it will go. “Sawyer?” I shout, trying to see into the car, but the twisted metal, broken glass, and rain make it almost impossible. “I need some help down here!” I yell up toward the road.
I drop to my stomach in the slick mud, my heart pounding so wildly I can hear it in my ears.
“Sawyer? Can you hear me?” I holler into the car. The sound of the pounding rain makes everything harder. It’s like a discombobulating, constant white noise wrapping around us. It’s nearly impossible to think.
“Isaac!” I hear Grady call from behind me as he slides down on both feet, the mud becoming more and more dangerous as the rain keeps pouring. I look back over my shoulder at him to see him securing the safety harness around his body.
“She’s not responding.” I’m near frantic at this point, shoving past him to the passenger side of the car, which thankfully has been spared the brunt of the impact.
I lay on my stomach to look through the window, that is still intact, and everything in my body starts to buzz with fear and anger.
I can see her, twisted around with her torso laid over the center console, but slightly hanging as the seat belt has her pinned in the seat, completely upside down.
“Fuck! Sawyer!” I pound my fist on the glass window but the metal begins to groan and hiss from the movement.
“Christ, it’s going to go any second!” Grady yells out.
The driver’s side of her car is completely crushed in, pressing up against the left side of her body. The center console has totally encased the latch for the seat belt. The belt itself is pulling tight over her chest, keeping most of her body pressed tightly
