Chapter 14 Carmen #2
Zane nodded and pulled over to the side of the road. They were out of the car within seconds and carefully traversed to the edge of the embankment, and Carmen sucked in her breath.
“There,” she said. “Oh, my word. It looks like a small wind would push it over into the pond.” Her eyes narrowed. “It should be called Hollow Lake. That’s no pond, it’s huge.”
“It started out as a pond, I believe,” Zane informed her, his eyes scanning the situation. “We’ll need to stabilize the car before we attempt to get anyone out of it.”
The vehicle was down the embankment, twisted and upside down, perched like a dropped toy at the edge of a wide body of water that was more lake than pond. The water’s surface was still, dark, and deceptively calm.
Carmen’s blood went cold.
The car was on its roof, teetering, and the angle made her stomach clench with the knowledge that it could shift and slide with a single wrong move.
“I have to position the SUV so I can use my equipment on it to stabilize the car until the rigs get here,” Zane told her. “You’re going to have to guide me.”
Carmen nodded in response. “We need to hurry.” She tilted her head, her eyes focusing on what looked like long hair dripping over the broken side window, and her heart jolted. “Zane, there’s someone in there. Hanging upside down.” Her eyes flew to his. “I have to get down there.”
“Yes, I know.” He nodded and climbed back into his vehicle. “Let me get my vehicle into position.”
With Carmen’s help, Zane pulled the SUV to the side, angled it safely, and killed the siren.
The sudden quiet sounded too loud. Not even a bird or insect chirped.
Zane climbed out and stood beside her. She drew in a breath.
The air smelled of wet earth, crushed vegetation, and the faint metallic scent that always came with accidents.
Carmen’s eyes swept the scene automatically. There were no other cars. There were no people standing on the roadside or footsteps anywhere around the car as far as she could see.
“From here it looks like something hit it hard,” Carmen said, her voice low, more to herself than to Zane. “Or it spun, hit something, and rolled.”
Zane’s gaze traveled along the edge of the road.
“I don’t see the kind of marks you’d expect if someone braked hard,” he said.
His tone was careful, thoughtful. “And I don’t see debris up here either.
” He pointed. “But there’s a lot of debris spewed along the side of the embankment.
” His eyes narrowed. “It’s like there was no skidding at all. ”
“Well, it didn’t just turn and roll down on its own,” Carmen stated. “We can figure this out later.” She glanced back toward the car. “We need to get down there and now.”
They moved cautiously toward the edge of the embankment. The slope was steep, packed dirt and loose gravel, and the grass was damp enough to be slick beneath their boots. Carmen lowered herself carefully, using one hand to steady herself against the trunk of a tree.
Zane moved beside her, his body angled as if he could catch her if she slid, and Carmen hated that her awareness of him was sharp even now.
Halfway down, she got a better view of the person inside the car. The figure hung upside down, held by a seatbelt, still and frighteningly limp. Carmen’s throat tightened.
“I need to get to them,” Carmen said, already starting forward.
Zane caught her arm lightly. “Wait.”
Carmen paused, turning her head just enough to look at him.
“That car is unstable,” Zane said, his gaze fixed on the vehicle. “If it shifts, it goes into the water. If it goes into the water, we lose time we may not have, and then if whoever is in the car is still alive, they could drown.”
“I still need to assess them,” Carmen replied. Her voice was steady, but her hands were already damp with adrenaline.
“I know,” Zane said, and the way he said it made Carmen pause again, because it was not dismissive. It was not patronizing. It was the voice of someone who understood exactly what she was feeling.
He glanced at the water. “That pond is deep, remember. If the car slides in, we don’t have the equipment to get in to save the person or persons.” He craned his neck, trying to see if anyone else was in the vehicle.
Carmen’s mouth tightened. “I still don’t think it should be called a pond.”
Zane’s lips twitched, and the brief flash of humor was oddly grounding.
Carmen looked around again, scanning the area. “I don’t see any other bodies,” she said quietly. “And I don’t see any other vehicles.”
“Or signs of someone else being here,” Zane added, looking confused. “Which begs the question…”
Carmen took another careful step, testing the ground. “How did it roll?” she finished for him, her mind working, trying to map angles and movement. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Zane didn’t answer immediately. His eyes stayed on the vehicle, and Carmen could see him calculating risk.
“We need to stabilize it first,” he said finally.
“And I need to check on the person now,” Carmen countered, because every second mattered in medical care.
Zane’s jaw tightened slightly. “If you touch that car and it shifts, you lose them anyway,” he reminded her again.
Carmen hated that he was right. She hated it, but she understood it.
Her eyes flicked to the figure inside again, and she forced herself to think like an EMT and not like a person who did not want anyone to die on her watch.