Huge tree.
The Lexus plowed into a bank of snow and then smacked the tree.
Hard.
His head snapped forward on impact and then something slammed into his body.
Air bag.
The entire time Emma had been screaming. Or maybe it was him? He didn’t know. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t breathe.
Instinctively he fought the air bag, gasping for breath. The air bag immediately started deflating. “Emma?”
He didn’t hear anything.
“Emma! Are you okay?” he shouted.
He heard the sound of spitting and then her hand connected with his leg. “I’m here. I think I’m okay.”
Erik pressed down the expended air bag and looked over to find Emma covered in a powdery dust. Right when their gazes made contact, something slammed into the roof. She screeched, ducking down. He recoiled, too, before realizing the tremendous thump had been snow dislodging from the branches above them.
His heart beat in his ears and his body felt numb.
“Are you hurt?” he panted, adrenaline igniting, coursing through his body.
“I don’t think so.” She moved her legs, wincing a little. “My neck hurts a little, but I’m okay. You?”
“Yeah,” he said, flexing his arms, wiggling his legs.
They’d been very lucky. The thick snow at the bottom of the hill had helped slow them before impact. If they hadn’t had that bank of snow, they might have been gravely hurt. As a firefighter he’d seen plenty of head-on collisions.
The engine had died and he couldn’t see anything through the spiderwebbed windshield. A fir-tree branch pressed against his driver’s-side window, blocking his vision, so he looked past Emma, who still struggled with the air bag, to see they’d landed in brushy woods.
Erik breathed a sigh of relief when he pushed the unlock button and the doors made a telltale clicking sound. Then he unbuckled himself and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. He pressed the home-screen button and his apps appeared along with the signal display that read No Service. “Goddamn it.”
He smacked the steering wheel, sending up a cloud of white powder that made him cough.
“What?” Emma said, stamping down on the fabric of the air bag.
“No frickin’ service.” He wagged his phone. “Try yours.”
Emma unbuckled and felt around for her purse. Things must have fallen out, because she mumbled something that could have been a really naughty word before pulling out a pink phone with a bow on the top.
“Oh no,” she breathed.
“What?”
“I forgot to charge it last night. Only one percent battery life.”
“Who forgets to charge a phone?” he asked, feeling aggravation welling in him. It was like dealing with Alexis. No common sense. And now they had no way to phone for help.
Emma’s eyes flashed fire. “Someone who was unfamiliar with the place she slept. Someone who had a naked man slide into bed with her. Someone who doesn’t have to answer to you.”
Touché.
Erik sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. Stress. Can’t you charge it with the car battery?”
She ignored his apology. “Mine only charges when the engine is cranked. So who should I call?”
“That doesn’t make any sense. It runs off the battery. Did you check your fuses?” Emma gave him a flat look, so he said, “Dial 911.”
After getting the particulars about where he thought they were, Emma dialed the number. He watched, fear seeping into his gut. The temperatures weren’t arctic, but they would drop when the sun went down. They needed to find help before that happened. He glanced at his watch: 4:33 p.m.
“Um, hi. Uh, my name is Emma Brent and my friend and I were traveling out here on—what’s it called again?” She looked at him.
“Old Fox Farm Road,” he said.
“You heard him? And we were cutting over to 105 when we hit some ice and ended up going over the shoulder, um, about ten miles past Mill Creek Run. Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?” Emma pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it. “No, no, no.”
Then she lifted those pretty green eyes to him. “Sorry.”
Erik wanted to slam his hand against the wheel again, but he didn’t. “Okay. No big deal. I’m going to climb out and walk up the incline. I should have service once I’m on the road. You stay here. Put your coat on and stay warm.”
Erik pulled his coat off the back floorboard and struggled into it. Tucking his scarf under the zipper, he opened the door, pushing hard against the bent metal, and climbed out into the bitter-cold day. Just as he slammed the door shut, sleet started falling, pinging on the smashed hood of the car. Not bothering to look over the wreckage, he began the climb up the steep embankment, praying that another vehicle might pass by, hoping beyond all hope he might get a signal.