Strange Girl (32 page)

Yet, except for Aja, we were still pretty banged up. We managed to light another two flares and spread them across the road but the way I was limping, the four hundred yards to Bo’s Mustang looked like a marathon. Frankly, judging by how far it had skidded on its side before coming to a halt, I wasn’t optimistic what we’d find inside it.

I explained what the 911 gal had told me. Janet swore under her breath. “Where’s a cop when you need one?” she said.

I spoke. “They promised to hurry. I’ll check on Bo. You two stay here and try to flag down any cars that drive by.”

“You can’t even walk,” Janet said. “I’ll go.”

“Your arm’s broken. You’re not going anywhere,” I said.

“I should go,” Aja said.

“Yeah. Have Aja go,” Janet said quickly, too quickly for my taste. It was clear she was thinking about Aja’s healing abilities, while conveniently forgetting how sick she’d gotten after healing Mike.

“No way,” I said. “Aja’s not getting anywhere near Bo.”

“How can you say that?” Janet asked.

“I just said it,” I snapped. “Now stay here and take care of each other. I’m going.”

The strength of my order might have prevailed had I been able to follow it up with a brisk pace in the direction of the overturned Mustang. But as I started up the road, my left knee went from bad to useless. I was basically forced to hop on one leg—not a very efficient way to traverse a blanket of snow. The girls, not impressed with my progress, caught up with me within minutes. Aja took my left arm and told me to lean on her.

“We’re all going,” she said.

I gave her a hard look. “As long as you keep your distance from Bo.”

To an outsider we must have looked like a pitiful trio. Even though it was Janet’s arm that was broken and not her leg, she moved no faster than me. Her arm needed a cast and a sling. The way she kept grimacing—and Janet wasn’t one to complain—I suspected the ends of her cracked bones were grinding against each other every time she took a step.

I could do nothing to help her. I could hardly help myself. Without Aja propping me up I would have been crawling on my knees. And Aja was not a big girl. Whatever supernatural powers she possessed didn’t translate into physical strength. Every time I leaned on her, every step I took, I came close to knocking her over.

It took us fifteen minutes to reach Bo’s car. When we got there I let go of Aja and used the body of the Mustang to keep me upright. The air was freezing but stank of gasoline. I warned the girls to stay back.

“The car could blow any second. Aja, give me your flashlight and help Janet to the divider rail. I’ll get Bo out.”

“His neck might be broken,” Janet said. “His back. It might be a mistake to move him.”

“I’ll take that into consideration. Now get back!”

Finally, the girls listened to me. They headed for the rail. I suppose the thought of being engulfed in a ball of fire was enough to get anyone’s ass in gear. But to be blunt, I wasn’t in love with the idea of rescuing Bo. He was the one who had caused the accident. He had caused a lot of grief lately and had I been alone with Aja I probably would have waited until the paramedics arrived and let them deal with it.

Yet Janet was pushing me to hurry. In the space of minutes she had gone from hating the guy to pleading for me to save him. As the girls trudged through the snow to the divider, I slowly made my way along the upturned bottom of the car. I could see the fuel tank in the beam of my flashlight. It had cracked open; and gasoline was continuing to leak out onto the snow. I would have felt safer if the toxic puddle showed signs of freezing but no such luck. I saw a nauseating mist rise from it at the same time I saw sparks crackling in the direction of the engine.

“Great,” I said, pondering the irony of my situation. The very day I’m promised a record contract I get incinerated in a car accident caused by a drunken pervert.

Given the fact that the car was lying on the driver’s side, there should have been no way in hell for me to pull Bo out of the wreckage. But I’d thought of a way to get to him the instant I’d seen the overturned Mustang. Bo loved to drive fast with the sun and wind in his face; and for that reason he’d installed an extra-large sunroof. As I made my way around the top, I was relieved to see the sunroof had totally shattered. That meant all that stood between me and Bo was a wall of snow.

I fell to my knees and began to dig. The stink of the gasoline and the red rattle of the sparks inspired me to hurry. As far as I could tell, Bo could have a broken neck and a crushed spine and I’d still have to drag him out of the car. Otherwise he was going to be toast.

“Bo,” I called when I’d cleared away enough snow to see him flopped around an air bag in the crumpled front seat. Trails of blood poured from his forehead and his breathing was ragged and wet but he was alive. “Bo, it’s Fred. Can you hear me?”

He moaned in pain. “Fred? How are you doing?”

“All right. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He coughed and a mouthful of blood splashed over his tan leather coat. He added, “I think I’m dying.”

I chipped away at the jagged edges of the sunroof with my flashlight. “Nah. You can’t die yet. Janet’s pleading for me to rescue you and if I fail she’ll never speak to me again. You’ve got to help me help you get out of here. You’ve got your seat belt on. You’ve got to unlatch the belt. Can you move your arms?”

Bo groaned mightily as he dragged his right arm over the swollen air bag. The damn thing was supposed to deflate after impact. “Where is it?” he gasped.

I focused the beam on his bloody fingers. “Keep going. Two more inches. That’s it—your hand’s right on the latch. Can you feel it?”

He sounded weak. “I don’t know. Sort of.”

“Good. That means you’re not paralyzed, that you’ll make a full recovery. If you move your ass. Your tank’s gushing gas and someone threw a handful of sparklers in the engine. We’ve got maybe a minute or two to get you out of here before we’re both barbecued. Are you hearing me?”

Bo fumbled without luck with the seat belt. The effort exhausted him and he coughed up another wad of blood. “It’s no good. Get away, Fred. Save yourself. I’m not worth it.”

“Not an option. Janet’s waiting and she says I’ve got to save your ass. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to undo that latch and I’m going to pull you out. Do it!”

Bo made one last desperate grasp at the seat belt latch and I heard it pop loose. Quickly, chipping away a few last jagged spikes of glass from the sunroof, I kicked with my right leg and propelled myself, headfirst, into the front seat of the Mustang. I could just reach the collar of Bo’s jacket. I got a grip on it.

Unfortunately, I had another problem. My position was way beyond awkward. I was practically falling into the car. I had no leverage, nothing substantial to brace against to pull him out.

“Are we there yet?” Bo babbled. He sounded delirious; he probably had a concussion.

“Bo, I need some more help. I need you to push with your feet. Push with one of them if that’s all that’s working. But push now and push hard. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. On the count of three: one, two, three!”

Bo pushed and screamed simultaneously. He probably had a broken leg; he might have had two of them. Whatever, the stab of pain seemed to reawaken him. His eyes popped open and he looked around at the mess he was in. Luckily, his shove had pushed him high enough to where I could wiggle back a couple of feet and still wrap my right arm around him.

I used my left arm to press against the edge of what was left of the sunroof. It was lousy leverage but it would have to do. Bo began to move. Shards of glass dug into my palm but I chose to ignore them as I continued to pull him up and out. I had never felt such an urge to hurry in all my life. I smelled smoke. Something was burning and I knew we had only seconds before we would join it. The car was about to explode.

I yanked Bo free of the Mustang. Using one hand for support on the side of the car and the other to drag him over the ground, I pulled him clear of the heavy powder and onto what I hoped was a sheet of ice. A pity I had forgotten about my lame knee. As soon as we moved away from the car, I collapsed beside Bo. He looked at me and tried to smile.

“Thanks for saving me,” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I replied as I struggled to get back on my feet. It was lucky for Bo and myself that the girls chose that instant to disobey me. Suddenly they were by our sides. Janet fighting with me to pull her dad clear of the car; Aja struggling to keep me upright. Except for Aja we were all a mess, all in agony, but we didn’t stop working until we were a hundred feet from the Mustang.

It was then the bomb went off; a mushroom of fire; and a shock wave so powerful it knocked us back on our butts.

“Daddy!” Janet cried as she tentatively embraced Bo. “Are you all right?”

I had not heard her call him “Daddy” in ages.

Not even “Dad.” Not since she was a little girl.

“Don’t worry about me.” He coughed, more blood spilling from his swollen lips. His breath was scary; a wet wheeze. It sounded like a death rattle. I suspected the impact had cracked a dozen ribs. He didn’t seem able to catch his breath. I tried rolling him on his side but he cried out. I rolled him back. His jacket was soaked red. He was bleeding from so many places. There was no question he had major internal injuries.

Janet fretted over him but was afraid to touch him. “What do you need? How can we help you?” she said.

Bo opened his eyes and looked up at his daughter, managed a feeble smile. More blood dripped from his mouth. “You’re here. That’s enough,” he gasped.

Janet looked at me with pleading eyes. “How long before the ambulance gets here?” she asked.

I checked my watch; it was broken. “Soon.”

“That’s not good enough. He’s dying.” Her eyes went to Aja. “We have to do something.”

Aja stood silent, her face calm in the orange rays of the burning car, staring down at Bo. She did not look at Janet, which pissed her off. Janet stood and grabbed Aja with her good arm and shook her.

“Do something!” she cried.

Aja stared at her but said nothing.

I stood and pushed Janet back, wrapping a protective arm around Aja. “We’re not doing this,” I said.

Janet gestured to her father lying on the road. His condition was deteriorating rapidly. I feared yanking him out of the car had not helped; that my tug had caused the sharp edges of his shattered ribs to puncture his lungs. He tried to say something to his daughter but couldn’t. His struggle to take in oxygen had become all-consuming. He kept sucking at air that couldn’t help him. The sad truth was he was drowning in his own blood. It didn’t matter that I was supposed to be furious with him; it was agonizing to watch.

“So it’s okay for her to heal total strangers,” Janet said bitterly. “But because it’s my dad you’re not going to let her help him. Why is that, Fred? Huh? Is it because he doesn’t measure up to your moral code?”

I pulled Aja closer. “You know that has nothing to do with it. Bo’s near death. Healing him could kill Aja. We can’t risk it.”

“Liar! You want him to die because of what he did to me!”

I went to speak and stopped.

Was it true? Did I hate him that much?

Janet turned to Aja, pleaded. “Can you do it? Can you save him?”

Aja stared at her before shaking her head.

Janet wept. “Why not? You did it for Mike. So you get sick for a few days. You’ll live. And he’ll live. . . .” She lowered her head as tears fell from her face. “You can’t let it end like this. You can’t.”

Was she speaking to Aja? The Big Person? God? I wasn’t sure but I could have sworn, the way Aja was studying her, that Aja believed Janet was talking to herself. And that Janet was the key to what would happen next.

Perhaps Janet sensed that. She raised her head and defiantly threw out a challenge. “You’re waiting for me to forgive him, is that it? If I do that, will you heal him?”

I worried Janet might be right. I pulled Aja back.

“Forgive him all you want,” I said. “She’s not risking her life to save his.”

Janet pointed an ugly finger my way. “You’re not in charge here. She is.”

I let go of Aja and took a wobbly step toward Janet. “You’re wrong. I’ll drag him back to the Mustang and throw him in the fire before I’ll allow her to heal him. I’m not bluffing.”

Bo began to choke; he shook on the ground. He could cough blood out but he could no longer draw air in. His whole body began to convulse. The back of his head banged the ice. Janet hastened to his side, gripped his hands, trying to steady him. She looked up at me with scorn.

“You let him die and I’ll hate you until the day I die,” she said.

“Aja doesn’t owe you a miracle,” I said.

Janet stood. “Maybe not but you do. How many times have you told me that you’re my best friend? That you would do anything for me?”

Her words pierced me like a sword. Suddenly I felt unsure of what I was doing. But it wasn’t as if my resolve to protect Aja wavered. I knew in my heart how much I loved her; knew I’d die before I’d let her risk her own life. Especially to save Bo.

Yet my doubt remained and it was odd because I suddenly questioned whether Janet had anything to do with it. I sensed a power gathering around us, an ancient force that was uninterested in my desire to save Aja or Janet’s efforts to guilt me. Something switched, inside and outside, and I suddenly felt as if we stood on a wide-open plain where no horizon existed. I sensed a huge presence approach, which should have been a comfort. Yet I felt lost and very much afraid.

Janet moved close to Aja, reached out with her good arm, tried to take her hand. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything you ask if you’ll heal him.”

Aja stared at her a long time.

What she said next stunned us both.

“Let him die,” she said.

Janet winced. “What?”

“He’s dying. Let him die.”

“But you can heal him. You have the power. How can you say that?”

Aja shrugged. “He sexually abused you. You were just a kid. Why do you want to save a man like that?”