Doomed by Tracy Deebs Page A

green in all directions. No wonder we crashed.
    And we can’t be the only ones. If this has happened at every intersection in the city, in the state, in the country, how many people have gotten hurt? And how many have died?
    Horror is a live thing deep within me, twisting and turning, raging and seething, until I can barely think. This can’t be happening. It just can’t be happening.
    I glance down the street, pray for a car to stop. For a policeman to see us. For a miracle—something, anything, but it’s no use. Traffic has slowed down even more in the time we’ve been out here, which is typical of life around here. By nine o’clock things are quiet, and by nine thirty, people are usually tucked into their houses.
    Still, we’re not completely alone. It just feels like we are.
    Minutes tick by as Eli continues to work, and even in the glow of the streetlamps I can see the sweat pouring off him. Josh has stopped crying, so the only sound that splits the silence of the night is Eli’s harsh breathing and the hammer striking the screwdriver again and again.
    “Hurry,” I whisper, even though I know Eli’s doing the best he can.
    Suddenly Emily screams. I jump, try to peer through the window. Before I can even get a good look, Eli’s crawled out of the car, Emily in his arms.
    “Oh, thank God!”
    “Theo!” he bellows, as he deposits her on the groundunder a streetlamp that’s a good thirty feet away from the crash site. “Get your ass over here.”
    Theo comes running, as if he’s just been waiting for Eli’s shout.
    I crouch next to Emily, check to see how badly she’s injured.
    “I think I’m okay,” she tells me, but I ignore her as I poke and prod at her right leg. Her thigh is black and blue, her knee swollen, but there’s no blood, and she can move everything fairly well. I think she’s probably right, that nothing’s broken, but then, what do I know?
    “Just sit there,” I tell her when she tries to stand, and after a couple of false starts, she listens to me. Which is surefire proof that she’s feeling worse than she’s letting on.
    Just then a car pulls up to the crash site, its headlights focused directly on the two SUVs. I blink, try to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Two men jump out of the car and run around to our side.
    “How can we help?” one asks.
    I’m a little shocked that someone has finally stopped to help, but I finally point at Anthony, who is listing to the side, his face completely white. He doesn’t look good, and I know if he doesn’t get treated soon, he’ll die.
    “Can you take him to the hospital?” I ask. “There are no ambulances—”
    “Of course. Let’s get the two of them into the back of my car.”
    It takes a few minutes of maneuvering, but we finally manage to get Anthony stretched out in the back, his head in Josh’s lap. Then the two men slide into the car and driveoff a lot faster than the forty-five miles an hour the area calls for. Seconds later, the truck that hit us roars to life and careens unsteadily down the street, barely missing Theo where he’s standing on the side of the road.
    Emily hobbles over to me, and the four of us stare after the truck for long seconds. I’m sure my mouth is open, but I can’t summon the will or the control to close it. But then, neither can any of my friends.
    A car drives by—a BMW—and the driver honks at us, not even bothering to slow down. He tosses us the bird, yelling out the window at us for blocking the road.
    As one, we scoot back. Seconds later, lightning flashes across the sky and it begins to rain.
    That’s when Eli starts to laugh.
    Emily and Theo look at him like he’s crazy, and maybe he is, but I understand the emotions ripping through him.
    The surreal shock of our present situation.
    The horrified amazement at the utter callousness of other human beings.
    And, most of all, the sheer relief that the four of us are alive and relatively unharmed, despite the scrapes and