North on I-35 [Index of Writers and their contributions]]
Second section by Carol Cassara
| Where was he? Where were Amber and April? Got to get to them. He
tried to roll over onto his back, but a sharp pain shot through his leg.
He lay still. Shit.
Jason tried to look around the cab of the truck. Where the hell was he? The muggy air clung to his body. He could barely breathe. There was no sound. No light but the stars. Nothing. A drop of warm liquid hit his arm. Slowly, he managed to get his fingers to his face and then held them in front of his eyes. He couldn't see his hand in the darkness. Must be blood, he thought. Or gas. He had to get out of there. Then, another moan, this time, louder. In the distance he could hear a siren. He had to get to Amber and April. Pushing through the pain he released his legs from their fetal position in small, tenative movements and propped a shoulder up against the window. Holy shit. This didn't feel like his pickup. How the hell did he get here? Amber and April must be outside somewhere, maybe thrown from the cab. He maneuvered his body gingerly toward the open passenger window. The siren was muffled in the thick, warm air, but louder. Maybe an ambulance was on its way, he thought. The sound got louder. He reached his arm up and grasped the metal doorframe. Slowly, he pulled himself toward the window, grimacing at the stabbing pain. Stepping on the gearshifts he managed to get himself kneeling with his shoulder against the passenger door. He leaned on it, sweating and out of breath. His eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, focused on the cornfield below. It was a long way down. Shrieking now, the siren approached rapidly. He squinted against flashing lights that cut the darkness. He couldn't see the vehicle. "Anyone in there?" an amplified voice cut through the night. "Yes!" He thought he'd yelled but it was barely a squeak. Footsteps,a bright beam of light, then the green shirt and gray pants of the Texas Highway Patrol appeared. "You hurt, son?" the officer asked. "My daughter," Jason croaked. "Where is she?" "Out there somewhere," he said. Static crackled as the officer radioed for help. "Big rig rolled over out here, trucker says he's got his kid with him, maybe thrown out of the vehicle," said the trooper. "Code 8, need two ambulances I-35 just past the Loop 20 exit." Feeling for the door handle Jason pushed hard against the door and lost his balance with the sudden, wrenching pain. He fell back into the cab and then into the dark void of unconsciousness. |
This is part 2 of a story
written by a 'committee' - writers from the Writing Workshop.
It will be gradually added to as each new section appears.
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