Both women gasped and grasped.
“What about you?” Doli asked, breathlessly.
“I’m right behind you. But I have to get out from under the steering wheel.” Her phone sounded. “It’s got to be Creed checking on us. He’ll have equipment. So when you’re safe enough to text, can you let him know my situation?”
The car shifted forward another smidge, just enough to make Auralia’s gut clench. She reached up and cranked her seat belt tighter and gripped the wheel with her elbows locked out.She’d been over the edge of a river bridge a time or two, but she was always free jumping in a known area with friends in the water to help if help were needed.
And then she realized. “Doli, we didn’t break the rail. It was the Morrisons' car. They’re in the water. Tell Creed that, too. They’ll need a fast water rescue team.”
“They’ll need an all-hands-on-deck rescue team. This pile-up is crazy.”
Doli swiveled her cross-body strap so her equipment was on her back.
She stopped talking as she fully focused on getting out.
“Slow,” Auralia said with a level of calm she definitely did not feel. “You’ve got this.”
Doli was supple and strong, and she moved with the grace of someone who grew up climbing cliff walls and crawling through cave systems. Her toes found purchase on the dashboard, but she didn’t thrust her leg into it; instead, she moved her weight hand over hand on the backs of the seats until she could coil her fingers around the few inches of window that were still visible to Auralia in her mirrors.
“Slow and steady,” Auralia encouraged as Doli’s body was a silken ribbon being drawn from front to back.
Doli let her body bend at her hips as she thrust out of the window. As graceful as a yoga flow, Doli was brave enough to let her body fold at her hip joints.
From her side mirror, Auralia watched as Doli placed the flats of her hands on the glass-strewn road. She walked her hands forward, slowly, slowly dragging first her thighs, then her shins out of the car. Once Doli balanced her ankles on the lip of the window that extended past the door, she bent a knee, pulled it to her chest, and stepped down, one foot then the other.
Auralia’s car hadn’t moved an inch through all that. Maybe she’d stabilized.
Crouching, Doli sucked in a breath and panted as she came to stand beside the car. “Should I try to pull the frame back down?”
“I think we’re balanced. If you tip it at all, you might break the thread holding it in place. Text Creed and Gator, then get to work filming. I’m going to be slower than you were.”
Doli called out, “Doing it!”
And now it was Auralia’s turn.
She had to get out.
She would. She could.
It was simply a matter of sliding to the side and working her way to the back seat, then out the window.
Doli did it.
Auralia only had this extra step, and she could do it too.
But just in case she was going to take a car ride over the edge, maybe she should first get rid of the extra weight of the ballistic vest.
Chapter Thirteen
Creed
“Clear the net. Clear the net. Clear the net. Logistics for Striker Force,” came the call. When that pattern was used over the radio, it meant that only Logistics and the commander were allowed on the radio frequency. The commander, Striker Rheas, designated his role by calling himself “Striker Actual.”
Creed opened the back of the transport and loaded Rou into her crate. She stared at him and stomped her foot. He hadn’t seen that before and wasn’t sure how to interpret it other than that Rou probably wanted to check on Auralia. Creed would like that himself. Instead of her danger thermometer going down as she drove away, it seemed to be rising to a fever.
“Go for Striker Actual.”
When Creed closed the crate door, Rou was barking angrily. “Sorry, Rou.” And he shut the back doors, making sure the transport was locked.
