Read Finding You (By You #3) Online
Authors: Kelly Harper
Okay, the first hard part was out of the way. He took a second to listen to Sarah talking to the emergency operator. It was comforting hearing her talk, and it kept her distracted, too, which was even more important.
Next, Jeremy rotated in his seat until he could press his back up against the driver side door. Putting his hands on the steering wheel for leverage, he pushed himself up just enough to extend both of his legs out over the center console. Slowly, he scooted his butt forward until he was actually sitting on the center console, with his feet on the front dash.
Now here comes the fun part.
Grabbing hold of both of the seat backs to steady himself, Jeremy kicked the front window as hard as he could with both feet. The shatter proof glass had already cracked, and he felt it loosen with just the first try. He scooted himself forward even more, now pushing on the backs of the seats with his hands to give himself more leverage, and he kicked the glass a second time. The window rattled and he felt the whole thing start to give. Steadying himself again, he put all of his strength into one more kick. The window cracked and popped out of place, dislodging enough for him to be able to push it off of the car.
You did it! But we're not out of the woods just yet.
Jeremy spun around and pushed his way out of the car, throwing the window off to the side, as he did. He looked around the street and the only vehicle he saw was the huge F-350 that had slammed into them, that had torn Sarah's Volvo apart. It had crashed into a building on the other side of the street, and it looked like the driver was slowly staggering his way out of the cab.
But he didn't have time to worry about that other guy. He had to get Sarah out of the car. He had to make sure she was safe. If anything happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. He didn't think he could live with himself if she was hurt because of him.
Why did he have to take those dark back roads that no one else took? If things had been any worse...
No, that line of thinking was going to help him, either. Jeremy leaned into the car, trying to ignore what he saw in the torn apart backseat. He could only handle one thing at a time, and he wouldn't be able to focus until he knew Sarah was safe.
"Sarah?" he said.
"I'm here. The police and an ambulance are on their way. The lady said it wouldn't take long."
Jeremy could already hear the distant squeal of the sirens, but after what had happened last time he wasn't about to wait for them.
"Good. That's great. We're going to get you out of there right now, though. Are you ready?"
He thought he saw her nod. "Yeah, I'm ready."
"Okay, this is going to be real easy. You should be able to push yourself forward into the floorboard on the driver's side. Can you do that for me?"
"I think so."
Jeremy leaned even further into the car as he watched her scoot and wiggle her way over the center divide. When she had scooted as far over as she could, she rolled onto her back and looked up at him.
Jeremy let out a sigh of relief when she flashed him a big smile.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he said, grinning.
But her smile didn't last long. Her eyes widened with concern.
"You're bleeding," she said.
He gave her a confused look, and then dabbed his hand to his face. When he pulled it away, there was a fresh, bright smear of red.
"Oh, that's nothing," he said. "Just a nose bleed from the airbag or something."
But she didn't seem very comforted by that explanation. Now that she wasn't stuck, anymore, it didn't look like it would be hard to get her out. He walked her through scooting herself around the steering column so she could make it into the driver's seat. Sarah was a lot tinier than him, and once she'd made it into the seat, it wasn't any problem for her to flip her legs around and lift herself out of the car.
Jeremy bent down and grabbed by her arms as soon as he could reach, and he lifted her the rest of the way out of the car, setting her on the hood next to him.
Her face was still twisted in concern, and she inspected his face from every angle while he assured her that he was fine.
"Really, I don't even feel it," he said.
"That
doesn't
mean you're fine," she said, sharply. "You need to get it looked at."
"I will," he promised.
Just then the first squad car and ambulance veered onto their street. As Sarah turned to face them, Jeremy felt her body go rigid. He knew what she'd seen, and he wrapped his arms around, quickly, catching her before she collapsed.
"Oh my God" she screamed. "
Oh my God, no!"
Standing on the hood of the car, Jeremy had a clear view on the rest of the car. The back half had been nearly torn in two when the huge truck had plowed into them and pinned them against the light pole. And, in what was left of the back seat, were the two twisted forms of Reagan and Dylan. They were tangled into a knot against the side of car, neither of them moving.
And there was blood everywhere.
Sarah tried to twist out of Jeremy's iron grip, but it was useless. His arms didn't budge even an inch no matter how hard she struggled. Her knees were wobbly and it felt like everything around her was going dark as she stood there looking at her friend's broken body.
"Reagan, no..." she moaned, tears already streaming down her face. The words came out as a gargled mess, barely understandable. "No..."
The ambulance pulled to a stop next to the car, and two men were quick to jump out of it. They were each carrying black bags full of equipment, and one of them had a burnt yellow stretcher in his other hand. When they looked up at her and Jeremy, he waved them off.
"We're fine," he said.
They nodded and didn't give him or Sarah a second glance as they rushed to climb into the backseat of the car. One of was talking into a radio on his shoulder, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.
Sirens were still blaring as more police cars filled the street, and in the distance Sarah heard the blaring horn of a fire truck headed their way. She felt frozen in place, frozen no top of what used to be her car, staring down at the mangled form of her best friend.
A cold numbness settled onto her as she watched the EMTs work. She couldn't see exactly what they were doing, and they spoke too fast for her to make any sense of it. She just wanted Reagan to be okay. Oh, God, please let her be okay.
"One DOA," said one EMT into his radio.
Sarah shook her head, not knowing what that meant. It sounded familiar, but was it good or bad? Then she heard the one thing that gave her even the smallest bit of hope, the one thing she
did
understand.
"Got a pulse," one of the EMT's said.
Sarah strained to see around them, to see whom they were talking about, but Jeremy still held her there. One of them grabbed a huge pair of scissors out of their bag, while the other grabbed what looked like white bandages with electrical wires coming out it.
She just wanted to know whom they were working on!
The EMT closest to the outside of the car reached out and grabbed the yellow stretcher. He laid it flat in front of him, and they rattled off a quick count before lifting someone onto it.
Please be Reagan, please be Reagan
.
It was the only thought going through her head.
Finally they shuffled their way out of the car as the first police cruisers were pulling up, and just as another Ambulance pulled onto the street. Sarah strained to see whom they were carrying. But after they made their way out of the back of the car, she didn't need to see whom they were carrying anymore. She had her answer, because she saw the broken figure of the person they
hadn't
pulled out.
Tears streamed down her face as she twisted against Jeremy even harder. He let her go, his eyes fixed on the crumpled form in the back of the car. Sarah scrambled off the hood and sprinted over to the EMTs. She got to them just as they were sliding the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.
Sarah gasped, fresh tears spilling down her face. Reagan body was bloody and broken, and they'd cut away her shirt to work on her...but she had a pulse.
"Ma'am, I need you to back up," one EMT said, pushing her aside so he could close the back doors.
"Where are you taking her?" she said, frantic.
"Memorial North West," he said, as he ran around to the front of the ambulance. She chased after him.
"I'm coming with you."
He looked back at her, considering her for only a second before he nodded.
"Get in, we've got to go."
She nodded, and sprinted around to the passenger's side. Jeremy was standing there, watching her, looking stunned.
"We're going to Memorial North West," she said, as she threw open the door and scrambled into the cab. She looked at him out the window. "Get a ride with the next ambulance. I'll see you there."
He stared at her for a moment, but finally jerked his head in a nod. Then the ambulance sirens blared to life, and they veered down the dark and nearly empty road. Sarah couldn't stop her hands from shaking.
Oh, God, Reagan. You can't die on me. God, please don't let her die.
The siren of the ambulance blared the whole way to the hospital. Sarah spent most of the drive trying to peer through the tiny window that showed what was going on in the back of the ambulance. She wasn't sure what all was happening, but as long as the EMT was still working on her, that meant she was still holding on.
He'd cut away all of her clothes and shoved a breathing tube down her throat. Heart monitors were attached to her fingers, and he'd even stuck little shock pads onto her chest in case he needed to shock her back to life. It was like it came straight out of a scene of a television show, but the girl lying on the stretcher wasn't an actress--she was Reagan, she was Sarah's best friend.
Come on, Reagan. You've got to pull through this. I know you can do it, you're the strongest girl I've ever met
.
The wishful thoughts did little to make Sarah feel any better, though. Images of Dylan's broken body still flashed in her head, and she could still hear the EMT's voice when he'd radioed in that one victim was DOA. She hadn't remembered what it meant, at first. But it had come back to her.
Dead On Arrival
.
They didn't even waste time trying to revive him, and Sarah hated herself because she was actually thankful for that. But what could she say? If there was any chance of saving Reagan she wanted all of their attention on her.
She shook her head. It didn't matter, anymore. What was done was done.
When they finally pulled into the Emergency Room bay at the hospital, there were already doctors waiting. Sarah scrambled out and rushed to the back of the ambulance where they were transferring Reagan to a gurney. A cloth covered most of her exposed skin, but doctors were still poking and testing with their instruments. Sarah barely had the chance to see what they were doing before they whisked her into the hospital, through doors where she wasn't allowed to follow.
A nurse with a clipboard pulled her aside.
"Miss, you're here with her?"
Sarah nodded. "Her name's Reagan. Reagan Dalton." Her voice came out strained and hoarse.
"Are you related?"
"I'm her best friend. I she going to be alright?"
The nurse gave her a noncommittal look. "The doctors are with her, and I'm sure they're doing everything they can."
What kind of answer was that? That didn't tell her anything.
The nurse gave her a soft look. "Don't worry, dear. She's in good hands. I do have one more question, though. Do you know if she has any allergies? Anything at all?"
Sarah shook her head. "I don't know. We only just met at the beginning of the semester."
"Well, she sure is lucky to have a friend like you at her side, then."
Sarah gave her a weak smile, and the nurse motioned her toward the waiting room promising she'd be back with updates whenever she had news to share. Then she disappeared behind the swinging double doors where the doctors had taken Reagan just moments earlier.
For the longest time, Sarah couldn't bring herself to move. Her feet were anchors that held her fixed in place. Even walking to the waiting room felt like some kind of betrayal, as though Reagan needed her as close as possible if she were going to pull through.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there, but after a while another nurse appeared in front of her, a concerned look on her face.
"Sweetie, are you alright? Is something wrong?"
Sarah looked down at the short, plump lady, seeing her for the first time.
"My friend," she said, pointing a finger toward the doors. "She's in there and I'm stuck out here. I should be in there."
The pained look on the nurse's face nearly went unnoticed. She hooked her hand under Sarah's arm and started leading her toward the waiting room. Sarah didn't put up much of a struggle. She was a walking shell of herself. She didn't feel anything anymore, and she didn't think she'd feel anything again until she knew Reagan was alright.
After getting Sarah situated in the waiting room, and asking her one more time if everything was alright, the nurse returned to whatever her job was. Looking around, Sarah noticed that the waiting room was full of people huddled together while they waited on their loved ones. This must have been the saddest, most depressing room on the face of the earth. And she was there alone.
Jeremy will be here soon
, she reminded herself.
She pulled out her phone to call and check on him, but when she looked down at it, a moment of confusion washed over her.
This isn't my phone
.
A groan escaped her as she realized that she'd never given Jeremy his phone back after he had her call 911. A bout of panic made her heart race when she realized that she had no way of getting in touch with him. What if something happened to him and he needed her? Or needed anyone, for that matter?