My heart stammered a little because I recognized the vehicle immediately as one of Ruby Red Landscaping’s Ford F250s. The light on top of the vehicle flashed bright orange, encouraging everyone to use extra caution, but I paid no attention to the road as we drove by. Instead, I looked closely at the driver, hoping to see Alex. I was more than a little disappointed that it wasn’t him.
Ruby Red Landscaping wasn’t the only company out working in the storm. A few other privately owned companies were clearing some of the larger parking lots to the grocery stores and shopping centers. I always felt bad for them, knowing firsthand how tiring it was to get called out in the middle of the night for a job and then have to turn around and do your normal shift immediately after.
We carefully made our way across town toward my house. “I could drop you off if you want. Alex and I can bring your car by tomorrow.”Assuming he’s talking to me.I certainly wasn’t going to wait long before demanding we talk. I missed him too much.
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
As we came around one corner, a black-and-brown dog bolted from the side of the road, stopping directly in my path. I carefully but urgently slammed on my brakes, trying not to spin out of control.
“What the hell!” Bri said, gripping her seat belt.
The dog was holding one paw off the ground and didn’t move or shy away from the car but barked twice and looked off the side of the road, its tail straight.
“It’s signaling,” I said in amazement.
“What?”
“It’s a pointer. A hunting dog. It’s signaling!”
I quickly pulled off to the side of the road and climbed out, yanking my hood up over my head. Grabbing a flashlight and a pair of gloves from the center console, I slowly approached the dog, who had started to wag its tail. Barking twice more, the pointer then awkwardly ran to the side of the road, still not putting any weight on the front paw.
“VAUGHN!” my sister yelled from the car.
“Just give me a minute!”
I had no idea what I would find by following the animal, but my instinct told me it had jumped in front of my car for a reason. Was it asking for help? As soon as I reached the side of the road, my stomach plummeted. A small, white sedan was about six feet down the ravine, nearly buried in the snow. If it hadn’t been for the flashing red taillights, I might not have seen it.
The dog glanced back at me once before carefully sliding down a narrow path along one side of the car. I followed it as far as I could, but it was too steep for me to descend safely. I noticed claw marks along the way, as if this dog had tried to dig his way through the snow to reach the vehicle.Or maybe dug its way out?
The poor dog must have been freezing by now and yelped when it slipped, once again lifting his paw. That’s when I saw the bright red spots in the packed snow.
I tapped on the back of the car. “Anyone in there?” I shouted.
The car jostled. “HELP!” a woman screamed from within, her voice weak and scratchy.
“I’m here! Hang tight. I’m going to get help.”
I turned to head back to the car, relieved to see Bri had climbed out and was walking across the street toward us. “CALL FOR HELP!” I said. “THERE’S SOMEONE DOWN HERE!’
Bri’s eyes went wide, but she quickly shoved a gloved hand into her coat pocket in search of her phone.
Turning back to the car, I saw the glint of broken glass in the snow. The pointer, though very clearly in pain, was still pawing at some of the snow, as if trying to reach the driver’s side window. I whistled to try to get it to stop, but its soft brown eyes only looked up at the window. Its tiny nub of a tail danced a few times before it started to dig at the packed snow again, obviously desperate to get to the person inside.
Not wanting it to get hurt any more than it already was, I tapped on the car to get the woman’s attention again.
“Is the dog yours?” I asked loud enough for her to hear.
“Y-yes.”
“What’s its name?”
“D-diego.”
I held my hand out and whistled. “Come here, Diego.”
