Roommates Box Set #4-6

3. Sierra

3

SIERRA

No matter how much I twisted and turned, I couldn’t get out from under the tree branches. They were everywhere, and they were heavy. The ice made them slippery, and I was so damn cold. My body was horizontal, squashed flat by the weight on me. I tried with all my strength to get to my hands and knees, so that I could push up with my back, but I could barely move.

From somewhere beneath me, I could hear my phone buzzing, but I couldn’t reach it.

And so I was stuck here—who knew for how long. The only way to measure the passing of time was by the bad thoughts that came every few minutes. What if I couldn’t get out from under this? What if I starved to death under here? Except that wouldn’t happen. Freezing was the more immediate concern.

I pushed those thoughts away and tried to look at the positive. Though the weight on me was heavy, I could breathe. That was a definite plus. And I didn’t seem to be bleeding.

And if I died, I’d never have to watch myself in the sex scene I’d filmed in Thrill of the Chase . I was already planning to close my eyes during that part at the premiere. Filming it had been one of the most stressful things I’d ever done.

Still… even with the unpleasant thought of the press tour and the premiere hanging over my head, I wasn’t ready to go.

But how in the hell was I going to get out of here?

I forced myself to breathe deeply. To calm my mind. To rid it of panic and fear so I could think.

Maybe if I couldn’t push my way up through the branches, I could move sideways. The damn tree had to end somewhere. But it wasn’t just the tree; the roof had caved in, too. There were boards and beams and ice and snow everywhere.

Still, I tried to wiggle to my right. Maybe there would be a little more space under the desk.

Except I couldn’t even see the desk. For all I knew, it had gotten pushed right out the side of the cabin—if this pile of rubble could even be called a cabin anymore.

This was bad.

Really bad.

Then I heard it—the most beautiful noise in the world.

Barking.

Such an exquisite sound. It was almost like it entered my ears and traveled through my body, warming it. I wasn’t alone. The collie was nearby. He knew I was in trouble.

“Help!” I cried out, wishing I knew the dog’s name. I knew he was a male, but he hadn’t been wearing a collar during his visits. Why would he wear one out in the middle of nowhere? But I wished I could call him by name. “Here, boy. I’m in here!”

And an even more beautiful sound. “We’re coming!”

Tears formed on my lower lashes and instantly froze. The shaking in my limbs wasn’t just from the cold. Someone was coming.

Help was coming.

Then there was a thud, coming from the direction I thought the porch was in. “I’m here!” I called again.

The collie barked from close by. I could hear him jumping around. In my mind’s eye, I pictured him trying to get to me. Even though I doubted he could, it helped tremendously to know he was nearby.

I closed my eyes as relief filled me. No matter what happened, I wasn’t by myself anymore. Ironic how comforting that thought was, when I’d come all the way out here just so I could have some time alone.

“Are you okay in there?” a deep, masculine voice called. Before I could answer, another one of them answered for me.

“Of course, she’s not.” There was another thud, and then some cursing.

“Don’t go that way, it’s too unstable,” one of them said. I think it was the first guy again. “Miss?”

“I’m here.” My voice sounded weak to my own ears, so I tried again. “I’m stuck.” That was better. Over the years, I’d done a play or two, and that had taught me to project my voice when I needed to.

“We’re going to get you out of there.”

Thank god.

The voices retreated, and I pictured them in front of the cabin, trying to figure out the best way to get to me. Few clear words drifted my way, but it sounded like quite the debate.

“I’m coming in,” said a voice from a different direction. This man sounded younger than the ones I’d heard before. “If I do anything to make the branches press down on you more, let me know and I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

From the direction of his voice, it seemed like he was trying to get in the kitchen window—if the kitchen was even still standing.

There was a grunt of effort, and then a scrambling sound. Then his voice came again, closer than before. “And if I don’t end up careening down the side of the mountain on a pile of rubble, then the others are going to try to get in as well.”

A quick laugh escaped me, but then I groaned. Every movement I made caused a sharp stick to poke into me.

“Are you injured?” he asked. He didn’t sound any closer, but it was a relief to know he was inside the cabin.

“I don’t think so. I’m all scratched up, though.”

“That’s good,” he said, then corrected himself. “Not about the scratches, I mean. But that you’re not too badly hurt. My name’s Drew Curtis, by the way. I thought I should tell you that since I’m in your kitchen.”

“Sierra Brogan.” My real last name flowed past my lips even though I’d worked as Sierra Sloane for years.

“Pretty name,” Drew commented. “I’d say ‘nice to meet you,’ but I’ll save that for when I can see you.”

The sound of wood breaking underneath him gave me some sense of his progress, but he wasn’t near enough to affect any of the branches on top of me.

There were noises coming from the porch, too. “My buddies are trying to get in through the front, but the door’s blocked.”

“Imagine that,” I said dryly, but then I bit my lip. The last thing I wanted to do was offend the guy who was trying to rescue me.

But Drew just laughed. “I know, right?” He grunted and for the first time, I felt something near me shift. “I think maybe I see your arm. Can you wiggle it?”

I tried. “Not much.”

“Shit, you’re really buried in there.”

“It’s like being in a bird’s nest.” A freezing cold nest.

A crashing sound came from the porch, and chilly wind hit me from a new direction.

“Nice to see you guys,” Drew said, but it didn’t sound like they’d been able to open the front door more than a few inches.

But then the cabin—what was left of it—shook. It sounded like they’d rushed the door together. A beam of light filtered through the tree limbs, but that wasn’t what made me gasp. “Don’t,” I moaned, unable to gather enough air to say more.

“Stop!” Drew shouted immediately. “You’re hurting her.”

The door evidently shut again, and some of the added pressure eased off. “Are you okay, Sierra?”

“I think so.”

“We’re going to get you out.”

I nodded, not saying anything. The air was so cold it was difficult to pull it into my lungs, and even though the other guys had backed off, I still felt more cramped than I had before.

“Can you hold that big branch back?”

For a moment, I thought Drew was talking to me, but then I realized that one or both of the other men had joined him in the kitchen.

“Let me try,” one demanded.

“Drew’s the lightest,” the other one countered. “Just help me clear this branch.”

They both grunted with exertion. “Wish to hell we had an axe,” one of them muttered.

“That’s perfect.” That was Drew’s voice again. “I can see her.”

“How are you going to get closer without crushing her?”

“I’m not going over, I’m going under,” Drew said. “Here, hold this one up.”

“With what hand?” the deeper voice said. I was beginning to think of him as the grumpy one.

But whatever they were doing seemed to be working. Drew’s progress was marked by vibrations in the branches around me. His efforts weren’t crushing me. Instead, it was like someone was trying to wiggle through the side of the bird’s nest to join me.

“So, what do you do when you’re not trapped?” Drew said, his voice strained from exertion. But he sounded closer than ever.

“I’m a writer.” It felt weird to say that after so many years of being an actress. Well, I was still an actress, too. But that wasn’t something I wanted to share with strangers—not unless they recognized me. Prior to the big-budget action movie last year, I’d mostly been in cable movies and television shows.

“Well, then, don’t worry, Sierra. We’ll have you back to writing the great American novel in no time.”

I didn’t correct him, even though I was writing a screenplay. “Thanks.”

“In fact, we—shit!” He winced in pain, and one of the other guys cursed.

“Sorry.” It was the one who had a musical tenor. I was beginning to think of him as the calm and collected one, unlike the deep-voiced one. “It’s hard to hold.”

“Are you okay?” I hoped I didn’t sound as anxious as I felt.

Drew gave a quick laugh. “That’s supposed to be my question to you.”

“Are you getting closer to her?” That was the grumpy one.

“Yeah,” Drew said. “Sierra? Can you reach your hand behind your back?”

“Um… maybe?” Between the cold and the rubble on me, my limbs were numb, but I gave it a shot. However, my arm didn’t want to bend that way. I tried to turn toward Drew, the way I would if I were rolling over in bed, but that made the branches shift, and I cried out.

“Don’t do that,” he said, and somehow it was comforting that he was close enough to see me. “At least not until I can get some of that stuff off you.”

Branches behind my back moved, and I bit back a yelp of pain. Then suddenly, something next to me shifted, and my body rolled into the gap so that I was facing upward.

It felt like there was more room by my shoulder, and I wiggled my hand through the branches in Drew’s direction. When his fingers touched mine, I gasped. His skin felt so wonderfully warm.

Drew clasped my hand, and I braced myself for the pain that would come when he pulled. But what he did instead caught me by surprise. He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Sierra.”

If my lips hadn’t been trembling from the cold, I would’ve smiled. “Nice to meet you, too.”