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slow motion. Turning sideways
ourselves. Floating on snow toward
the Hummer. Toward the shoulder.
“Kyle!” I scream as we go face-first
off the highway. Over the side.
Gigantic bump. My head snaps
forward. Back. Someone praying.
Kyle? Falling. Somersaulting.
Can a truck turn somersaults?
Finally, no motion at all. And silence.
STUNNED
It takes a few minutes to understand
I am okay, despite hanging at an odd
angle by the shoulder harness that
doubtless saved my life. Kyle is beneath
me, against the window. “Kyle? Kyle!”
He doesn’t answer. But I can hear
him breathing. Okay. What now? If
I unfasten my seat belt, I might fall on him.
But I can’t just stay here, dangling.
“Help,” I call uselessly. My voice is thin,
and there’s no one to hear, anyway.
I test my body. Legs, okay. Arms?
Okay, I think. A little pain where
the harness caught hold of my collarbone,
but overall I got lucky. Please, God,
let Kyle be lucky too. I have to try
and help him, so I chance letting
myself out of the seat belt. With my arm
still looped through the shoulder
