Her teeth chattered until they felt like they were going to pop out of her head, but fear and determination kept her warm as she slipped and slid her way around to the front of the car. Only one lonely headlight illuminated the dark. Smoke and snow glowed eerily in the beam. Beyond it was nothing but a dark void.
In order to get to Camille, she was going to have to crawl in front of the car. The car that was suspended by two skinny, splintered saplings.
Her breath coming in wheezes, Remi slid and scooted her way along the hood. She wrapped her hands around the first tree and scooted forward, her foot catching on a rock. Pain warred with the numbness. Air became a precious commodity.
Another foot forward. Another tree. This one was leaning hard toward the valley or ravine below. She was almost grateful for the dark. Almost relieved that she couldn’t see what was waiting for her below.
The tree gave another groan, and the carcass of the car slid forward another inch.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she whispered. Picking her way carefully around the base of the tree, her heart pounded so loud it sounded like a drum beat.
This was fear. She’d never experienced anything like it before. Never come face-to-face with her own potential demise.
It wasn’t fun. She didn’t recommend it. But everything that had mattered to her to this point stretched out in front of her in a glorious kind of clarity. Mackinac. Her parents and sister. Brick. The way she felt when her brush moved across the canvas, erasing the blank whiteness, fulfilling potential.
She thought of the things she loved. The people she loved. Of cold Vernor’s on a hot day and red lipstick. She wanted more. More of all of it.
She wanted to be loved.
She wanted to live.
She let out a broken cry when she finally made it around the car, crawling her way up the steep grade to Camille’s door.
“For the love of Ella Fitzgerald,” she whispered and wrapped her frozen fingers around the handle.
Tears froze to her cheeks as the door creaked open. Then she realized it wasn’t the door, it was the tree. There was a horrible splintering noise and then a groan.
It was going to give. And without that anchor, the car could fall.
Now or never. She reached inside, pushing the airbag down and fumbling for Camille’s seatbelt. Her friend was still horrifically motionless.
Don’t move an accident victim, she heard her mother’s voice clear as day in her head.
But it was either move Camille now or watch the car plummet to the bottom of a goddamn ravine.
The car slid another few inches forward, dragging Remi’s feet with it.
It took a long moment before she realized that the broken sobs she heard were coming from her.
“Come on, Camille. We’re not letting him win. This is not the end!”
Her fingers finally found the buckle and released it. Trying to figure out the best way to pull her friend from the car, planning swiftly changed to action when the first tree gave up its fight and cut through the beam of the headlight in slow motion.
“Shit!” Remi grabbed Camille by the shoulders and heaved.
She fell over backward, awkwardly dragging her friend’s unconscious body with her. She barely had time to get them both clear before the wreckage shifted and slid. Only this time, it didn’t stop. The weight was too much for the broken tree to bear.
With a terrifying snap, the tree and car disappeared into the black.
They were sliding, too. Slipping into nothingness as the wreckage crashed and crumpled its way down the steep incline. With one arm looped around Camille’s chest, Remi scrambled for a grip with her other.
Her arm struck something. Hard. She only imagined the sound of the snap, Remi told herself as pain lit up numb nerves.
Through the pain, she managed to curl her arm awkwardly around the thing, arresting their decent. She dug her heels in. And tried to breathe. Tried to think of what next.
The guardrail and road were above them. Somewhere. She didn’t know if it was danger or safety that waited.
“Fuck,” she whimpered through chattering teeth.
She closed her eyes and pictured her parents’ kitchen. The place she was happiest. She’d missed Christmas with them. Why hadn’t she gone home? Because she’d found out about Warren, she reminded herself. She found out her friend was married to a monster and didn’t want her to be alone with him.
What if that had been her last chance at Christmas morning with her family and the monster still won?
“NO!” she sobbed out the denial.
He wasn’t stealing anything else from her or Camille.
“Camille, we are going to climb up there, get some help, and we are going to put that motherfucker behind bars,” Remi whispered. Her friend remained motionless in her grasp.
“I know I give you shit for being so thin. But it really worked out in your favor tonight,” she said as she carefully set her heels in the snow and scooted a few inches up the incline. When she felt her footing was secure, she released her grip on the rock. Her arm sang when she tucked it under Camille’s. But it was either feel pain and move or feel pain and freeze to fucking death on the side of a ravine.
Or pass out from an asthma attack and let them both tumble into the dark.
Gritting her teeth, she leaned back, pulling Camille with her. Again and again. Inch by inch. There was no time. Only distance. Darkness. Cold. The hitching sound of her own labored breathing.
And then there was a flicker. Blue. Then red. Again and again. It landed on the brush surrounding them, lighting up the fog, painting the snow and her breath. Blue. Red.
There were voices now. And more lights.
Her heart sang. She wanted to call out, but her lungs wouldn’t allow her to suck in enough air. So she hung on to her friend’s limp body and sent up a silent prayer.
When her eyes opened, a beam of bright light blinded her. Was she dying? Was this officially it?
“I’ve got two vics on the slope,” a voice reported.
“Get me a rope and the sled,” someone else barked.
Remi squinted up into the light, still clinging to Camille. They were safe.
She’d tell the police everything, and they would go break down Warren’s door and arrest him. She’d go with them and kick him in his motherfucking balls.
That’s when she noticed the tall shadow looming over the guardrail.
“Senator, we need you to step back.”
32
“Remi.” Her name fell from his mouth in two strangled syllables.
He was pacing in front of her without even remembering rising while she told him her story.
He wanted to pick her up in his arms, promise her that no one would ever get that close to hurting her again. He wanted to fly to Chicago and break every fucking bone in Warren Fucking Vorhees’ body.
He wanted to carry her across the street, lock her in his house, and stand guard.
As a cop, he knew how dangerous domestic disputes could be. How quickly they could go sideways. The thought of Remi putting herself between a friend and a fucking monster took ten years off his life.
“Are you okay?” she asked, those jade green eyes searching his face.
Brick stopped mid-stride and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He would never be okay again.
“Do you want some water or something?”
“Just…give me a minute,” he said, finally managing to choke the words out. Visions of her, restrained by a seatbelt, holding her friend’s hand as she tried not to cry out. As she waited for a madman to end her life.