Silence.
Gen opened her eyes. Things were rocking, back, forth, back, forth...a seesaw. It was like she was on a seesaw, vertical, facing down. She needed to throw up, but she was wheezing, a hard pressure against her chest. Her forehead was itching. What a crazy thing to annoy her right now.
"Gen. Gen. I need your help." Noah's voice. Urgent, imperative. "Look at me. Look toward my voice."
Her head turned before her eyes opened, and she fought the desire to throw up. She was looking up at him. How was that possible?
"Gen."
Noah had never snapped at her, as demanding as Lyda, his eyes hard as stone. Why wasn't Lyda saying anything? "I...I can't seem to move."
"Wiggle your fingers and toes."
She did, relieved to feel those. A similar look crossed Noah's face, seeing her do it.
"You're wearing your seat belt and the car's on its side on a slope. Keep looking at me. Don't look away. I'm your focal point."
Dazed, she tried to look away, get her bearings, but he made that sharp noise. He even lifted an arm toward her, carefully. He had one hand wrapped around the chicken strap, elbow hooked around the seat back, one foot braced on the back of the driver's seat. She could see sky through the back window. Their various luggage items seemed to be clustered at odd places in the oddly angled car, like one of those funny skewed perspective paintings.
"Gen."
She forced herself to focus again, and he nodded in approval.
"You're going to go out my window." He pointed above himself and she saw it was broken, jagged pieces of glass forming teeth around the opening. She saw trees, smelled forest. As well as burning metal, smoke. "When I say go, I'm going to unbuckle you, give you a lift up there, all right? But you have to hold onto the seat so you don't fall forward, and try to help me, move this way and come right to me, okay?"
She was starting to realize what was happening, understand the slight rocking motion of the car. She knew now why he didn't want her looking toward the front of the car. She swallowed, hard. "Noah, what if...shouldn't we wait..."
"We can't. It will be too late." Though he spoke calmly, his brown eyes were brilliant and intent. "You remember that day Chloe got hurt? I know you wish you'd been there. That you could have helped and protected her. This is your chance to do that, Gen. You're going to save all three of us. Okay?"
"Okay." She wasn't sure of any of it, but then the car groaned, the seesawing abruptly becoming more pronounced.
"Now. Hold onto the seat." With the sharp command and a curse, Noah leaned forward, his pocket knife already out to slice through the seat belt. Gen's arms were too shaky, and she lost her grip, but Noah grabbed her arm. She was able to seize it with the other hand as well, and he pulled her up into the back seat. "Move slow and steady. Be still. Be still now."
He held Gen against him with a rigid-as-steel arm. He made that harsh noise to keep her motionless, both their weights pressed to the seat like glue, against gravity. Slowly...so slowly, the seesawing went back to a more gentle motion again.
"Okay." Noah let out a breath and lifted his head, directing her attention to where the broken out window beckoned. Then he looked back down at her. "Out of the two of us, I'm the only one who has the upper body strength to pull her free, lift her up to you. I'll push and you'll pull her through. Okay? I know your arms are shaking, but you have to find the adrenaline, Gen. You have to be strong enough. Understand?"
His dark gaze bored into her face. Though she sensed she was in shock, possibly concussed, things were becoming clearer and his message got through. "Okay. Yes. I will."
"I know you will." He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Once you're out there, move back as far as you can to counterbalance."
She noticed he had blood on his neck, running down into his shirt from his hairline. She wasn't the only one shaking. "Everything working good enough to do this?" he asked. "Anything feel broken?"
It wasn't like they had a lot of options if anything was. He'd just made that clear. Maybe he was just giving her that extra second to let adrenaline juice her up even further. Kudos to the powers-that-be for providing that perk in life-or-death situations. But now that some clarity was returning, she had to look for Lyda. She had to, even when Noah tried to stop her. She looked toward the driver's seat. And bit back a cry.
Her beautiful hair was a mass of blood. She was draped over the
steering wheel like a ragdoll, face turned away. She wasn't moving. "Noah."
"She's alive. I refuse to believe anything else." He set his jaw. "We just do this. No talking about that."
"Okay." She bit back the fear, fought the fuzziness in her brain that could kill them all. "What do I need to do again?"
"I'm going to give you a boost out that window. We'll try to do it smooth. Fast, but not too fast. Once you're up there, move back as much as you can to help us counterbalance. Once we're steady again, I'll cut Lyda loose and push her up through the window. You pull, and we'll get her out of there. Move both of you toward the back, so I have a clear track out the window. All right?"
"But...why not just get out and open her door?"
"Her door was the main impact point. It's dented and probably not able to open. And there are other reasons. No time to explain. Here, use this towel to grab the edge of the window, since it has broken glass. Ready?"