dusty ravine most of the time, but the heavy storm had turned it into a raging miniriver that was pummeling her car and rapidly seeping inside of it.
Of course, if it hadn’t been for the water filling the ditch, she’d have likely flipped over completely. Only now she had another set of problems to worry about. Namely getting out of the car while she still could.
She reached downward, straining against the seat belt to get to her backpack, which was lying against the passenger window. She had no idea where her cell phone was. She’d pitched it in the general direction of her backpack when the tire had blown, needing both hands to grip the wheel. Hopefully Ryan had assumed they’d lost connection. She didn’t want him worrying about her.
She was doing enough worrying for both of them at the moment.
After all but dislocating her shoulder, she finally managed to snag the backpack’s strap, then awkwardly wrapped it around her fist. The seat belt was cutting into her body, choking off her breath. She needed to get out. As the rain had gotten heavier, the sky had grown swiftly darker, despite that it wasn’t even noon yet. And the wind was picking up speed, which, considering it had been buffeting her little car all over the road for over an hour now, was saying something.
Hanging as she was, she couldn’t see over the edge of her side window to what was on the other side of her door, but it was her only avenue of escape. Rain was beating against the glass, and from the tiny tapping sounds she heard, she realized it was mixing with bits of hail. Not a good sign during tornado season. Like she needed more bad ones.
This was supposed to be a beautiful June day. Thekind where you watched an old friend get married, threw rice, then danced under the stars while drinking too much champagne. “So much for my compatriots at the local National Weather Service,” she muttered. At least she wouldn’t be getting the letters and phone calls complaining that the forecast was wrong. This wasn’t her district. Hell, it wasn’t even her state.
Using the center armrest for leverage, she opened her door and levered it straight up, sticking her foot out to keep it propped open against the wind. “See,” she grunted, “this is why you should join a gym. If you’d done a few leg presses in your life, this wouldn’t be killing you.” As it was, by the time she got a good grip on the slick edge of the doorframe, her muscles were screaming against the constant force the wind was putting against the thinly made door. She levered herself as close to the open door as she could, hoping she could bail out when she released the seat belt. The car tipped more upright with every shift of her body weight, causing it to sink even more rapidly.
She was already getting wet and now hail bits were pricking at her skin. Water and muck were oozing into the passenger side and filling up the foot well. “Time to get the hell out of here,” she muttered, then hauled herself up as best she could while simultaneously popping her seat belt off. The buckle caught her hard in the cheek as it whipped past, but she could do no more thanswear, as she was now fighting gravity all by herself. It took everything she had to heave her body up and out onto the edge of the car doorframe. The car began to flip the rest of the way over as she quickly reached for the open door. Pushing it against the wind, she levered herself against it. Wobbling badly, she shoved herself upright.
Without time to so much as glance downward to gauge the distance needed, she made her leap. The car went the rest of the way over as she shoved off, reducing her leverage just enough to send her sprawling a foot short of the other side of the water-filled gully.
Water and muck smacked her in the face, filled her mouth, making her sputter and choke. She flung her backpack toward the road, then literally clawed her way out of the water. Gasping, she lay on the side of the road, heedless
Of course, if it hadn’t been for the water filling the ditch, she’d have likely flipped over completely. Only now she had another set of problems to worry about. Namely getting out of the car while she still could.
She reached downward, straining against the seat belt to get to her backpack, which was lying against the passenger window. She had no idea where her cell phone was. She’d pitched it in the general direction of her backpack when the tire had blown, needing both hands to grip the wheel. Hopefully Ryan had assumed they’d lost connection. She didn’t want him worrying about her.
She was doing enough worrying for both of them at the moment.
After all but dislocating her shoulder, she finally managed to snag the backpack’s strap, then awkwardly wrapped it around her fist. The seat belt was cutting into her body, choking off her breath. She needed to get out. As the rain had gotten heavier, the sky had grown swiftly darker, despite that it wasn’t even noon yet. And the wind was picking up speed, which, considering it had been buffeting her little car all over the road for over an hour now, was saying something.
Hanging as she was, she couldn’t see over the edge of her side window to what was on the other side of her door, but it was her only avenue of escape. Rain was beating against the glass, and from the tiny tapping sounds she heard, she realized it was mixing with bits of hail. Not a good sign during tornado season. Like she needed more bad ones.
This was supposed to be a beautiful June day. Thekind where you watched an old friend get married, threw rice, then danced under the stars while drinking too much champagne. “So much for my compatriots at the local National Weather Service,” she muttered. At least she wouldn’t be getting the letters and phone calls complaining that the forecast was wrong. This wasn’t her district. Hell, it wasn’t even her state.
Using the center armrest for leverage, she opened her door and levered it straight up, sticking her foot out to keep it propped open against the wind. “See,” she grunted, “this is why you should join a gym. If you’d done a few leg presses in your life, this wouldn’t be killing you.” As it was, by the time she got a good grip on the slick edge of the doorframe, her muscles were screaming against the constant force the wind was putting against the thinly made door. She levered herself as close to the open door as she could, hoping she could bail out when she released the seat belt. The car tipped more upright with every shift of her body weight, causing it to sink even more rapidly.
She was already getting wet and now hail bits were pricking at her skin. Water and muck were oozing into the passenger side and filling up the foot well. “Time to get the hell out of here,” she muttered, then hauled herself up as best she could while simultaneously popping her seat belt off. The buckle caught her hard in the cheek as it whipped past, but she could do no more thanswear, as she was now fighting gravity all by herself. It took everything she had to heave her body up and out onto the edge of the car doorframe. The car began to flip the rest of the way over as she quickly reached for the open door. Pushing it against the wind, she levered herself against it. Wobbling badly, she shoved herself upright.
Without time to so much as glance downward to gauge the distance needed, she made her leap. The car went the rest of the way over as she shoved off, reducing her leverage just enough to send her sprawling a foot short of the other side of the water-filled gully.
Water and muck smacked her in the face, filled her mouth, making her sputter and choke. She flung her backpack toward the road, then literally clawed her way out of the water. Gasping, she lay on the side of the road, heedless
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