The car engine had stopped. My headlights illuminated the underside of the snow-laden trees. I tried to shove the gear into park, but the shift had jammed. My emergency brake had broken a year ago.
A gust of wind shook the car. I blinked through the haze from the airbag, barely able to make out a murky darkness ahead. Fractured glass marred the windshield in a spiderweb pattern. My thoughts settled onto one point of focus: I could not fall with the car. And if it rocked onto its tires, this car was going to fall.
Snow pelted the cracked windshield. A burst of cold brushed across my face. I realized the whistle I was hearing wasn’t the wind, but my own frantic breaths.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I have to remain calm.”
Maybe someone would come help. Could anyone have noticed from the road? Not likely, but I flashed the brights just in case. There was a small chance someone would see my brake lights.
But the chance was very, very small. Almost nonexistent. I hadn’t seen any other cars in the canyon. Nope, help wasn’t an option, then.
Had to get out of this myself.
Panic filled me like a hot teakettle. How long would it take them to find me? What if the car washed downriver and took my body with it? Bethany might never know what happened. Ellie would always wonder.
The car moaned.
I froze.
The snow continued to fall, thick and gauzy, while I fingered the seat belt. Maybe I could get free, then jump out once the car landed back on the wheels. But how to undo the seat belt now without falling toward the passenger side?
Well, I had to try.
Moving an inch at a time, I reached for the door. Thankfully, the window rolled down. An icy chill snaked into the car. I froze as the car groaned, tires inching closer to the ground.
It didn’t matter anymore. Whether or not I moved, this car was going down. If I wanted to live, I had to get myself out. With a sharp breath, I threw my weight against my door and jammed my hand into the seat belt. The car shivered. The seat belt stuck.
I did it again.
The car shrieked this time. With a guttural cry, I slammed my hand into the seat belt again. It loosened, hissing as it retracted. The movement tipped the car to the side until it landed back on the tires.
Blood pulsed through my body. It thundered in my ears. A scream built in my throat, rushing out in a wild shriek even though no one could hear.
“Help! Please!”
Frantic, I threw myself out the window just as the wheels started to roll. The edge of the window cut into my torso as I tried to scramble free. My left leg didn’t follow the rest of my body. Something hugged my ankle.
The seat belt.
Ice cut into my palms as I grabbed at snow in a poor attempt to extricate myself. The car inched forward. Grunting, I yanked at my left foot. Rocks skidded beneath the front tires as the car crested the edge of the cliff face. It slipped, then shuddered.
“No!” I shouted. “No!”
My body slid forward with the car. Ice raked against my fingers as I uselessly grasped for purchase. The movement only seemed to encourage the car forward. Just as the front tires tipped off the edge, a hand gripped my arm.
With a cry, someone yanked me free.
My leg pulled away from the seat belt, and I slammed into my rescuer. A pair of strong arms dragged me to safety. We landed on the ground together.
“Oof.”
The sound of the Honda crashing down the mountainside ended with a splash and a sickening crunch. I blinked, suspended in time as I stared at the snow swirling in the spot where the car had disappeared. My mind raced, unable to comprehend any of it.
How was I not in that car?
A voice called over the gusting wind. “You all right?”
I spotted a pair of bright olive eyes tucked into the hood of a parka. Broad shoulders and a strong hand held onto me.
My breath caught—this time, I wasn’t sure I’d get it back. I knew those eyes. The sprinkling of stubble on a chiseled face. My stomach dropped all the way to the river.
“JJ?” I whispered.
He grabbed my shoulders. “Lizbeth, are you okay?”
What were the odds that JJ Bailey, of all people, would have saved me? I put a hand on my swimming head as my fingers tingled.
Then everything went black.
2 JJ
Lizbeth shivered on the seat next to me.
This old truck—aptly named the Zombie Mobile—issued only a desperate gasp of heat. It drove like a tanker, weighed as much as a mountain, and plowed through snowdrifts with joy, but it kicked out heat like an arctic breeze. The perfect truck for a night like this, unless you wanted to be warm.
She blinked awake slowly, half-dazed. She looked so frightened with her wide emerald eyes, ghost-white skin, and limp hair.
I fiddled with the knobs on the dash to give myself something to do. “Are you cold?”
She stared at me, blinking.
“Did you hit your head?” I asked.
Her fingers brushed her forehead. She shook her head. “No.”
I reached into a bag behind her seat. An assortment of clothes were stashed in a small duffel there. I grabbed a hoodie and handed it to her.
“Put this on. Then you can put on my parka. They’ll help.”
She wasn’t wearing a coat, although there had likely been one in the car. Her thinness probably meant a whiff of wind could chill her. There weren’t many lights in the Zombie Mobile, but her dazed expression and dusky lips were unmistakable. She slipped her arms into the hoodie and pulled it as far down her body as she could. I slid out of my parka and handed it to her.
“My parka too.”
She hesitated. “W-what a-a-bout you?”
“I’ll be fine. We’re only a few miles away from the turnoff to Adventura. Once we get over
