“Get the door open?” I squinted through the fogged-up glass to see her shake her head. Shit.
“Window?”
Another shake.
I stepped back, looking at the big picture. It wasn’t just the ledge and tree—a chain-link fence held the car in place. Good.
“You got a coat or something?”
The woman didn’t react at first.
“Got a scarf or a blanket? Put it over your head.” I reached for my Leatherman. “Gonna break the window.”
I watched as she pulled something from around her neck and covered her body.
“Ready?”
I gave her a couple seconds and tapped the glass, hard. In an instant, it cracked, blurring the space between us even more.
“Push it out with the scarf.”
Once she’d shoved the glass outside, I reached in and tried the door. No luck. “Sure it’s unlocked?”
“Yeah.” The woman’s voice was breathless, almost a whisper.
“Can you unbuckle?”
“Kinda…hanging from the belt.” She sounded breathless. Scared as hell.
“Can you hold yourself up? Use the other seat if you have to.” I put out a hand and paused. “Okay if I hold your arm?”
A pause and then another nod.
It took her a few seconds, which was understandable. Finally, holding up her weight so she wouldn’t fall against the passenger door and knock the whole damned car down, she unbuckled.
“You get your arms around me?”
“But…” Her voice was high and strained, like she could barely get the words out. “I’m…holding myself up.”
“Use your legs to stay steady.”
“Right. Okay.” Her eyes met mine. They were huge; so deep they looked black. “I can’t fit through the window.”
“You’ll fit.” That was one of the funny things about survival. Didn’t matter what size she was. She’d fit through a damn porthole if she wanted it bad enough. “Grab me on three.”
With a grimace, she shifted her weight, steadied herself, and put a hand out.
The car moved. Felt like a fucking earthquake. Or a missile strike.
I didn’t think. No time. Just grasped her under the arms and pulled. Not fast enough. She caught on something.
“Push off! Use your legs.” I yelled, picturing the carnage if I couldn’t get her out. “Push!”
Everything happened at once—the car sliding, the woman tightening her hold on my waist, while one hand grasped mine. Then, slow as a tree falling, the car slid, slowly at first, then picking up speed as it smashed a pinball path to the bottom of the ravine. I threw us back against the dry, grassy bank, where we landed in a rough heap.
We lay still long after the last echo from below.
I caught my breath enough to ask, “You okay?”
