His voice was weak, but his words were clear. Hopefully that meant he didn’t have a serious head injury.
“Stay still. We’re in a ditch. I’m trying to get my phone.”
Mark groaned again, but it had a different tone to it. “I was hoping that was a nightmare. Is he still out there?”
“No way to tell.”
I had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was, but that he’d rather leave this looking like an accident. If we died in this ditch, no one would suspect it was anything other than a tragic accident. My unfortunate accident history would play right into it.
I had to get my phone before he decided to check. With the kind of accident we’d had, the medical examiner who did our autopsies might not spot the difference between crash injuries and the crowbar that finished us off.
I couldn’t simply release my seatbelt. I’d smash down into my steering wheel and probably break my ribs. My upper body wasn’t strong enough to support me and prevent a fall, even if I hadn’t needed one hand to release the seatbelt.
Maybe I could get my knees up so I could balance on the steering wheel while I released the belt.
I pulled up one knee, but I hit the steering wheel. It wasn’t going to fit in the space between the seat and the wheel. Maybe I could swing my leg around the wheel.
I braced my hands against the wheel and swung my knee out to the side.
Something swished against my leg in the water. I lowered my leg and glanced down. Paper?
Oh no. I’d slid the photocopy of the file Grady gave us next to my seat. It must have come loose in the crash.
It wasn’t even like the water was clean. After soaking in muddy ditch water, it’d be unreadable.
Though if we didn’t survive, it wouldn’t matter.
I drew my knee up beside the wheel again. This would be easier if I did yoga instead of riding a bike. Then I’d be flexible with lean legs.
I wriggled around, but I couldn’t get it into position. It wasn’t going to work. The positioning of the wheel, the seat, and my body wouldn’t allow me to bring my legs into a position to help support me at all.
I tried to relax and think, but the seatbelt cut into my skin. Each breath seemed to take a bit more effort than the one before, with all my weight hanging off my waist and chest.
I had to think. My phone couldn’t make a call through my car with the car turned off. Maybe I could still send a text using my voice. I hadn’t tried it before, and no one I knew regularly used the feature. But my phone could do it, couldn’t it? I thought I’d seen it on a commercial.
The best person to text seemed to be Erik. He’d take my text seriously and act swiftly, but he wouldn’t panic. I wouldn’t know if the text went through, and I wouldn’t be able to respond to any questions Erik had, so I’d have to be perfectly clear the first time.
“What road are we on?” I asked Mark. “And the crossroads as best as you can remember.”
He gave me the names.
I thought about crossing my fingers, but that wouldn’t help anything. Instead I sent up a quick prayer that this would work.
“Siri, tell Erik I was run off Brookside, between Green and Willowvale. I need help.”
“Okay,” the automated voice said. “Telling Erik I was run off Brookside between Green and Willowvale. I need help. Is this what you want to say?”
“Yes,” I nearly shouted.
“Sending.”
I tried to listen for the little swish sound that signaled a text had sent, but my purse muffled it too much.
Hopefully this wasn’t a dead zone. If it was, the text would sit in limbo until my phone reached a spot with service. If nothing else, if we didn’t make it out of this, my text would tell Erik this hadn’t been an accident.
It wasn’t as good as calling 911, but it was the best we had.
My teeth chattered. The chill was starting to feel like it came from the inside rather than just the outside. “How long can we afford to wait to see if he got it?”
“Ten minutes,” Mark said. “The water’s too cold. After that, the guarantee of hypothermia will outweigh the risk of making our injuries worse by unbuckling and letting ourselves fall.”
21
I pressed the light button on my watch again. The face glowed bluish-green, illuminating the numbers.
“What are we at?” Mark asked.
“Nine minutes.”
I brushed my fingers against my seatbelt. I’d give Erik every second of the ten minutes to send help for us. I’d need that time to brace myself anyway. There was no way this wasn’t going to hurt if I dropped from my suspended position.
The seconds ticked away. My watch light clicked off again a few seconds before we hit the ten-minute point.
I sucked in a long breath. “I’ll go first. I have a shorter distance to fall.”
“Wait.” Mark reached out toward me. “I think I hear them.”
I strained my ears. It was faint but…yes. Sirens. And they were coming toward us.
