“Breathe,” Knox is saying somewhere to my left. His hand is still gripping mine—when did that happen? Did we ever let go?And he’s squeezing so hard my fingers are going numb. “Sawyer, breathe. You have to breathe.”
I try but the breath is more like a gulp. It doesn’t reach my chest but reminds me that I’m still alive.
Some of the white spots clear away and I see that we’re not fully upside down anymore but we’re not right side up either. We’re hanging at an angle. How is this happening? Why isn’t anyone coming to help?
I’m looking straight down but Knox grabs my chin. “Don’t. Don’t look down.”
But I already am. I can’t help it. My eyes pull down despite his grip on my face, and I can see the gap ahead. The place where the track used to be is nothing but warped metal.
And the bodies. My vision is fuzzy but I know what’s there in the wreckage.
We’ll be next.
“Sawyer.” Knox says again, more urgent. “Look at me. Not down there, at me.”
I drag my eyes to his face and he looks…Oh God, he looks terrified. His skin is pale and there’s blood running down his temple and into his eyes from a cut somewhere on his head, and his jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
“Are you hurt?” he asks. “Tell me if you’re hurt.”
Am I? I don’t know. Yes…no. The restraint is crushing and there’s pins and needles creeping into my arms, and everything is sore, but we’re still here. Even if whatever is keeping us holding on might give way at any second.
“I don’t…” I manage. “I don’t know.”
Someone is crying again, loud gasping cries that bring me back to the present. Beyond that, a low moan comes through. I know it immediately.
Owen.
Realization hits me like a punch to the gut and I try to twist around in my seat. I need to see him, but the restraint won’t let me move more than an inch and Knox’s grip on my hand tightens to the point of pain.
“Don’t move,” he says. “Sawyer, don’t move. The structure isn’t stable.”
“Owen!” I cry out. “Owen? Are you?—”
I can’t finish the question because somewhere behind us there’s another sound. It’s different from the groaning metal. Sharper and louder. It’s a crack followed by this horrible grinding that makes my whole body seize with terror.
“What was that?” It’s the couple behind us. The woman is awake now, screaming the question. “What’s happening? Oh God, what’s?—”
The grinding gets louder.
Knox’s eyes go wide, and his gaze snaps behind us as much as he can. I watch the color drain completely from his face…watch his mouth form a word that doesn’t come, and in that split second, I know hell is coming.
I know what’s about to happen.
“OWEN!” It tears out of me, loud enough to shred my throat raw, and I’m fighting against the restraint and Knox’s grip and gravity trying to hold me in place because I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.
That terrible sound…it’s louder. So loud that I use my free hand to cover an ear. But that means…
Something is happening behind us. I don’t know what and I can’t see so I desperately call out to them.
“Knox? Can you see him? Owen, I’m here! It’s okay!” I can barely get the words out through sobs.
Metal groans again and I hear the exact moment the support gives way behind us, but mostly I hear the screams…his screams.
They’re cutting through everything else, high-pitched and so completely unlike any sound I’ve ever heard him make that my brain almost doesn’t recognize it as him. He’s screaming my name. “SAWYER! SAWYER!”
He’s so scared. Oh fuck, he’s terrified.
Knox is calling to him beside me. He’s repeating something again and again but I’m trying to hear Owen. I need to hear Owen.
