He was standing next to a car, while Calder and Ash stood on the other side. Calder seemed to be analyzing the situation; the others were clearly waiting on him.
I heard a low, pathetic bark, and that’s when I noticed the small snout inside of the car. There was a dog trapped in there.
3
~
Calder
I had already noticed the crowd forming around the car. It was over 90 degrees outside, and with the sun blazing overhead, the inside had to be boiling. The dog itself had a thick coat, and I couldn’t imagine how it had to be suffering at that moment. We had to move fast.
“Beck, keep the owner out of the way,” I said across the car, and he nodded. He was usually the guy I tasked with dealing with the emotional parts. He might have been a bit of a clown, but he had a way with people that Ash and I simply did not.
“Ma’am, I need you to give us space to work,” he said, taking the still-screaming owner by the shoulders and guiding her further from the car. She continued to yell about her baby, and I caught his name; Harold. An odd name for a dog, but there were more important things to think about right now.
“Stay back,” Ash growled at the crowd, and his authoritative tone convinced them to move a foot or two away.
I went through the situation in my mind, ignoring all of the noise around me. First, I knew that the keys were lost. The owner, Sarah, had made that clear. All of the windows were fully up. Harold was panting and had now stopped barking. He was lying down on the front seat and staring out into space. Not a good sign.
Sarah had insisted that she’d called the closest locksmith, but he was on another call. No way he would get here in time. Even if he managed it, Harold was in grave danger. Every second counted.
There was only one choice. We’d have to break into the car.
“Ash, get the air wedge,” I instructed, and he immediately moved to do so. Beck glanced over his shoulder.
“Didn’t think breaking and entering would be on the schedule today,” he joked, prompting me to raise an eyebrow in return. “Oh, come on. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Harold, Harold! Mommy is here!” Sarah shrieked from behind him, shoving forward to try and get to the car. “You’re going to be alright!”
“Ma’am,” Beck said, gently moving her away again. “You really need to let us do our job.”
“You’re taking too long!” Sarah snapped. “My baby isdying!”
“I know it’s tough,” Beck continued evenly. “But we need you to stay calm.”
She wasn’t going to listen to him. I knew that. Still, I wasn’t going to argue with her. I needed to save Harold first.
“Here,” Ash had appeared next to me, and handed me the air wedge from the rig. I ran my fingers over the front window, looking for any tiny gap that I could get it into. Ash copied my movements on the other side. The problem was, though, that this car was brand-new, and it probably had been built to withstand this kind of attempt at entry.
I couldn’t find a single spot even a tenth of an inch wide; no single spot where I could slide the wedge into. I’d need something even thinner.
Luckily, it seemed like Ash had already thought of that. He reached over the car silently to hand me a Slim Jim. That was a risky move, and could be ineffective anyway. It was possible that it would damage the car, even if it did fit between the window and the weather stripping.
I didn’t think that mattered as much as saving Harold, of course. A little damage was a worthy price for a life.
“Should work,” Beck said, still body-blocking Sarah, whose wailing was not slowing down. “You know how to get thin things into tight spaces, don’t you?”
I took a breath, trying not to let him get on my nerves. But I couldn’t hide the fact that my jaw tightened, and that made him laugh. This drew a glare from Sarah, whose tears were now streaming down her face.
“You think this isfunny?”she shrieked, but Beck already had an answer.
“We joke to deal with trauma,” he said, seemingly very seriously. It didn’t calm Sarah down, but she didn’t continue to berate him, either.
In front of me, Harold tried to get up from the seat. He wobbled and went right back down. We were running out of time. I couldn’t let anything distract me. He was clearly already dehydrated, and I didn’t want things to get any worse for him.
I worked the Slim Jim between the window and the weather stripping, wiggling it to try and find a way through. It was at this point that something caught my eye; Rhea was standing in the crowd, watching. Seeing her was enough to steal my focus for a moment, and the Slim Jim slipped.
It scratched across the side of the car, leaving a line in the paint.
