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“Lainie! Answer me! Are you hit?”
“No,” she whispered. “No,” a little louder. “Are you?”
“No. Can you get out?”
This whole scenario was hauntingly familiar. Hadn’t she just done this two weeks ago? Even though the landing had been a hard one and she’d have multiple bumps and bruises, thankfully the Jeep had stopped nose down against the side of a ditch—and she didn’t seem to have any broken bones. She shoved open the passenger door and released her belt. When she stepped out, she lost her footing on the damp leaves and went down, her shoulder bouncing off the ground and gravity rolling her fully down the next hill. When she came to a stop, she stayed still, absorbing the aftershocks rippling through her, taking inventory once more.
A quick glance over her shoulder spurred her to move as the delivery van’s contents bounced out of the back, scattering around her. “James!”
LAINIE’S CRY ECHOED.James was trying to get to her, but his leg was jammed between the steering wheel and the front seat, which had slid all the way forward upon impact. He was trapped and working furiously to free himself. “Lainie! I’m coming! Hold on!”
But the seat wouldn’t budge. He checked his phone, thankful he’d stuck it in his pocket rather than the cupholder. No service.
“Ahhh!” His frustrated cry ricocheted around him. Panting, he replaced the phone in his pocket and fought the memories of his past. Of being trapped in a burning MRAP in the middle of the desert, hearing the cries of the men he worked with—his friends, his brothers.
And being absolutely helpless while his own pain threatened to send him into unconsciousness.
“Lainie!” He had to stay in the present. Had to help Lainie.
Her sobs reached him, keeping him anchored, refusing to allow him to slide into the past. He pulled the lever on the side of the seat again, and using his good leg, he pushed as hard as he could to move the seat. It finally slid back, and he let go of the lever to lockit in place. Pain sliced through his leg, but James gritted his teeth, released the seatback, and slid up toward to the headrest, pulling his legs as he went. Pain sucked the breath from him, and he noted the blood-soaked tear in his pants, the fiery burning in his back where his recent wound protested all the rough stuff.
But Lainie—
Somehow, James finally managed to roll himself out of the Jeep and to the ground. With a worried glance at his leg, he pushed himself to his feet, grateful that he could stand. The leg wasn’t broken. He just had a huge gash that needed stitches and hurt like someone had used a blowtorch on it.
He could deal with that.
He shoved himself to the front of the Jeep and looked down the short embankment to see Lainie, who had her back against a tree, trying to stand while pressing a hand to a bleeding wound on her head. “Lainie!”
She snapped her head up, winced, then her eyes found his. “James!”
He worked his way down and leaned against the tree next to her.
She hurtled herself against him, shivering. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
She ran her hands over his chest. “You’re not hit?”
“No. I’m good. I promise.” Except for his leg that felt like it was on fire.
Her breath hitched again. Panic attack? James pulled her into a hug, his gaze scanning the place they’d gone off the road. Where was the shooter? It took a minute, but her breathing finally slowed from full-on hyperventilating to a practiced in and out. “You okay now?”
“I will be.”
A low moan to his right pulled his attention from Lainie. “Hold on.” He stumbled to find the driver of the delivery van lying on his back, his right leg twisted at an odd angle and his head bleeding from a large gash.
Lainie had followed him and dropped next to the driver, switching to professional mode. “He needs help. Now. Did you call 911?”
“No signal. I have a first aid kit in the Jeep, but I don’t think I can climb back up there with this leg.” Not with any kind of speed.
She focused on the gash in his leg for the first time and gasped. “Oh, James.”
“It’s fine. Just a cut. Can you get the kit?”
She swallowed, looked up to his Jeep, then nodded. “You need pressure on that leg. If you keep bleeding like that .. .”
She was right. He pulled off his belt, and working quickly, Lainie helped him secure a tourniquet just above the gash while he told her where to find the first aid kit. Then she met his gaze. “That should be okay for the moment. Try not to move too much. Make sure he doesn’t have any bullet holes in him. If he does, put pressure on it. I’ll be right back.”
