He heard a muffled cry. Amelia, calling his name. He inhaled with relief, getting a hit of burnt rubber and fresh dirt. He could make out her shape in the front seat. She was pushing against the driver’s door—pointlessly, seeing as a large branch was flush against that side of the car. But if she opened the passenger door, she’d go straight down the cliff.
“Amelia, don’t move! The door isn’t going to open, and the other side’s not an option. We need to get you out the back.” He tried the boot, but it was either locked or jammed shut. Adrenaline crawled over his skin, but he forced his voice to remain steady. “Is the handbrake on?”
He heard a ratcheting sound as she yanked it up. It wouldn’t help much, but if locking the rear wheels gave even a little traction…
“Can you open the boot?” he called.
“The what?”
“The trunk. Open the trunk.” He heard a click as the mechanism tried to engage, but the boot wouldn’t budge. “It’s not working. I’ll have to smash the back window, get you out that way. Can you start making your way back here?”
“I don’t want to unclip the seat belt! What if the car falls?”
She had a point. If the car dropped, it would likely go nose-first. Eddie and Connor hadn’t been wearing seat belts and had been thrown clear, but only after Eddie broke the windscreen with his head. The boys had been lucky the car had bounced right over them. Relatively lucky. The chances of even that small mercy happening twice had to be slim.
The tree groaned.
“Tom?”
“If we can get you to the back, it’ll help shift the center of balance. Leave the seat belt on for now and slowly start reclining the seat. That’s it,” he called, as he saw it move. “Nice and slow.”
“Okay, it’s all the way back.”
“Now, unclip the seat belt and scoot super-slowly back onto the rear seat.”
He scanned the ground for something that would smash the rear window, settling on a hefty rock.
“Tom? I’m in the back seat!”
The car keened and tipped forward. Amelia screamed. Tom caught the terrified expression on her face for a second before the back of the car flipped into the air, putting the hatch out of his reach. Shit. The car was facing almost directly downwards.
“Tom?” He had to focus to hear her over the blood pulsing through his ears. “I could probably fit through the side window, but the electrics aren’t working. I can’t lower it.”
Even the side window was a little out of his reach, but she was right, it was their best chance. “I’ll tr—” He shut his mouth. She didn’t need to hear the word “try.” People in life-or-death situations needed certainty, even if there was none. “I’ll break it,” he yelled. “Cover your face. Cover as much of your skin as you can.” He lined up the rock. If he calculated this wrong, the force of his blow would be enough to send the car plummeting. “Amelia?”
“Yeah?” she answered thinly.
“Clip the seat belt on, just for a few seconds, while I do this. The middle one, if you can get to it.” That would allow her the most protection, should this not work. “If the car starts falling, ball up as much as you can.” He gave her a couple of seconds. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
The car scraped against the tree and tipped up again—only a few inches, but enough to lift the side window out of Tom’sreach. He’d have to climb the tree to get near enough. He tore off his coat and tossed it onto the road, pulled on a branch, testing it, then hauled himself up. It swung under his weight. Now that he too was hanging over the cliff edge, he could see just how little held up the tree—a few spindly branches and a couple of tautly stretched roots that hadn’t yet torn away. The drop was shrouded in milky fog, but he knew only too well how far it was to the bottom.
“Tom?”
“Just getting into a better position.” If this didn’t work, he’d never forgive himself, if he even lived to regret it. “Cover yourself. Here goes!”
He plunged the rock into the middle of the passenger window. Only a tiny crack appeared. The car creaked, swaying, while the branch below him heaved like a seesaw. He slammed the rock again, the impact reverberating up his arm. The glass splintered. Another hack and he had a hole, but the car was starting to swing like a pendulum. He smashed away the jagged edges, then pulled off his jumper with one hand and used it as a glove to brush away the rest.
“Amelia? Unclip, and ease over, slowly.” As much as he wanted to whip her out, a quick movement could unhinge the little stability they had.
A gunshot-like crack sounded, blanking his hearing, and the car dropped a meter. Tom slipped sideways off the branch. Amelia gave a muffled yelp. He grabbed for the nearest handhold—little more than a bunch of twigs—and hauled himself back up, his abs at full strain. Amelia’s forearms were out of the window. She was trying to haul herself out.
“I’ve got you,” he said, gripping her arms. He locked his thighs around the branch and pulled. She slid towards him. Another crack, and with a muffled groan, everything fell—him, Amelia, the car, the tree. His stomach lurched. Branches andleaves and dirt flew up all around, like gravity had glitched. A stick scraped his side.
His back slammed onto a hard surface, pain radiating down his spine. His head smacked backwards, triggering an instant headache. Amelia thumped down on top of him.
But holy shit, they were on the ground and clear—and not the ground at the bottom of the gully. He went to speak but Amelia skidded off him, careening towards the drop.
