Groaning, she rested her head against her hands that were clutching the steering wheel as if it was a floating device and she was drowning. Her breaths were ragged. Silence filled the car. Zack wanted to accuse her of not paying attention, and yet he was the reason she’d become distracted.
After a few minutes, she blew out a gush of air from her mouth and straightened. She reached for the door handle and wrapped her fingers around the knob.
He grasped her arm, stopping her. “What are you doing?”
She threw him a glare. “I need to get out and assess the damage.”
“Damage? You didn’t hit the tree.”
“No, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get the car back on the road.”
Fear made his throat tighten. “Why?”
“The ground is muddy.”
He grumbled under his breath. “Well, don’t go out alone. I’ll go with you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You?The boy scout who might be able to start a fire?”
His mouth twisted as he stared at her. He wished she’d stop treating him like an imbecile. “All I know is that it’ll be better if we both go out... to protect each other, of course.”
“What do I need protection from?”
He sat back and folded his arms. “You don’t watch many horror films, do you?”
She shook her head and opened her door. “Whatever.” As she climbed out, she turned and looked at him again. “Are you coming?”
He jerked his door open and climbed out. The ground under his feet squished when he walked. Frowning, he shook his head. Just as he feared... they were stuck in mud.
The car sat in front of a tree, but there was enough room for him to move in front of the car and push, and yet, he doubted it would do any good if the tires didn’t have the traction they needed. From what he could tell, the road was a good twenty-feet away... on an incline. Even with help from Whitney, there would be no way to push the car back onto the road.
Whitney growled, stomped to the back of the car, and opened the trunk. Zack met her there.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“A flashlight.” She moved their luggage in her search. “I don’t exactly want to continue our journey on foot unless we have a flashlight.”
“What?” His voice rose in volume. “You want towalk?”
She looked at him from her over shoulder. “Greyson, you sound as if you’re afraid of the dark.”
He huffed and folded his arms. “It’s not the dark that scares me. It’s whatin the darkthat I’m worried about.”
“I can assure you,” she said slowly and demeaning, “there are no axe murderers out here, or any masked men running around with chainsaws.”
“What about a masked man slowly walking toward us with a knife? Yeah, he killed a lot of people in that movie, you know.”
“Zack, be serious.”
“Fine.” He leaned closer. “Do you know there are bears and moose in these woods?”
She sighed and straightened, facing him. “Yes, I’m aware of that, which is one of the reasons I’m looking for a flashlight.”
“Can’t you just call your stepfather and have him come get us?”
“I suppose.” She withdrew her cell and pushed a few buttons, but as she watched the screen, her frown deepened. “No service. That doesn’t surprise me.”
In Zack’s thirty-two years, he’d never been so frightened – even twice when he was shot, he’d not been this scared. Closing his eyes, he tried to decrease the fast spreading panic inside of him. He didn’t like feeling this way. He was a tough guy. He could handle anything. Although convincing his mind of this wasn’t that easy.
