Unlocked (4 page)

“What if I don't?” Jordan lifted his hands. “Are you going to climb back here and—”

Lily smacked his leg.

“Your funeral, Dude,” Manny said and clicked his own belt into place.

I'd had enough of Jordan tonight, and I wanted to be rid of him. I shifted into reverse and pulled out of the parking space.

“Something smells funny,” I said. Everyone started sniffing the air like a pack of beagles.

“I just smell your dirty old car,” Lily said.

“Like smoke,” I prodded.

“Let in some fresh air. That'll help.” Manny rolled down his window, and I rolled down mine. But the odor lingered.

I drove north and followed the stream of vehicles leaving the fairgrounds. Traffic thinned as people went their separate ways, and once we hit the road winding through the Boise foothills, we were alone. I switched the headlights to high beam and sped up. The dazzling full moon spotlighted the many sagebrushes and few trees bordering the road.

A dark mist danced along the blacktop like a mischievous imp. I swerved and repositioned the car in the lane. I checked my rearview mirror to determine what I'd almost hit.

Jordan glared back at me.

“Are you okay?” Manny asked.

“Fine.” I tightened my grip on the wheel. “I thought I saw something.” I was just tired. But then an ant scampered across the top of the steering wheel and across my knuckles. I jerked and swatted it away.

“Do you want me to drive?” Manny leaned closer.

“No! I'm fine.”

I straightened in my seat and refocused on the road, but my fingers tingled. The dashboard backlit dozens of ants trailing across the wheel and over my skin. I flung the ants loose and then wrung my hands together, embarrassed by my reaction to the little bugs.

“Hannah!” Manny reached for the abandoned steering wheel.

Lily shrieked.

I shifted my foot to the brake pedal, but the edge of my flip-flop snagged. When I jerked it free, my foot smashed back down against the gas pedal. My eyes widened as the needle of the speedometer topped ninety miles per hour.

In front of us, black smoke churned on the roadway, and we slammed into something hidden within it. The car flipped.

And we all screamed.

A loud bang precipitated the abrupt explosion of the airbags. They receded just as suddenly. A fine white powder filled the scorched air. The Mazda's frame groaned as it rolled again and again until it landed against a large hackberry tree. Leaves fluttered down in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights.

Everything went silent.

I hung upside down, held in place by my seat belt. Manny hung limply. Blood spotted his shirt and dripped from his face.

“Manny.” I clutched his hand. “Manny!” I shook him, but he didn't respond. I looked over my shoulder. Lily drooped unconscious in her seat belt. Jordan's body lay against the inside of the roof. A bone protruded from his sleeve. His shoe was wedged beneath his neck. A terrible odor like a rotten outhouse filled the interior of the car. I gagged, my body convulsed, and I vomited. Hanging upside down. I wiped the puke from my face, but it was in my nose, on my eyelids, and in my hair.

I glanced toward the back seat. “Lily!” No reaction at all. Black smoke billowed in through Lily's open window and blew into her mouth, as if she'd pulled in a breath of air. More smoke swirled in and out of Jordan's mouth. At first I assumed it was from the smoldering engine, but then little demon-like eyes took shape from the swelling smoke. I started screaming. The cloud of darkness came closer to me, and I covered my mouth and closed my eyes. A tickle scratched across my skin, and my hair danced against my face. Tears flooded my eyes and ran down my forehead into my hair. I bit my lips together. And then I peed myself. The warm, fragrant urine spread across my shorts, and I realized in that moment I'd lost control of everything. Nothing would ever be the same again.

After an eternity of crying, I heard muffled voices outside. They came closer and yelled to each other.

“Call for an ambulance!”

“She's alive!”

“We have to get them out before they burn!”

And a man said, “This one's already dead.”

Someone touched me through my open window. A woman's voice said, “It's going be okay. We're going get you out.” She slipped her fingers under my hand, which still covered my mouth, and clutched it in hers. I relaxed my rigid muscles and stared at her. She was upside down. Everything was. “My name is Laura. Can you tell me yours?”

“Hannah,” I whispered.

“We're going to help you, Hannah. Do you hurt anywhere?”

Everywhere. But before I answered someone pushed her out of the way and reached toward me with long, slender, hairy arms. He used a pocketknife to cut my seat belt, and I fell to the ceiling. My head and shoulder took the brunt of the fall. I heard Laura in the distance tell him to be careful.

“We have to hurry if we want to save any of them. When that fire reaches the gas tank, this whole thing will explode,” he yelled back to her. Someone on the other side cut Lily's belt.

“Is Lily okay?” I whispered. No one answered. I tried to yell, but my voice failed me. What about Manny? He was my best friend in the world. What about Jordan?

The man tugged me through the window, lifted me, and hauled me away. He propped me on the side of the road against a truck, and then he ran back to the Mazda.

The driver's side was dented and contorted. Flames licked out from the engine, and the mangled blue hood dangled to the side. Black smoke rolled out and up. A breeze fanned the smoke into the main part of the car. The hatchback lid hung open, and the pink elephant lay on its side several feet away from the bumper.

The three strangers coughed and covered their faces with their shirts. Another man ran over to me, clutching Lily. He set her next to me and returned to the burning car.

“I can't get him out,” one man hollered. “His leg is pinned.”

The breeze shifted, and the black smoke blew away from the fire. I saw through the driver's side window that Manny was still in the front seat. The flames shot higher into the sky. They left Manny and worked to rescue Jordan.

Tears blurred my vision. “Help Manny!” I tried to yell, but my coarse voice came out as a whisper. “Help Manny!” I pleaded. With great effort, I lifted myself up, and stumbled toward them. An explosion from the engine rocked the car. The fire doubled in size. The people staggered away from the blast.

“Help Manny!” I yelled.

Laura turned around. “Stay back!” She ran to me, grabbed my arm, and angled me away from the accident. I strained against her, but I was too weak.

“Manny,” I said. “He's in the front seat.” I peered over my shoulder. The two men tugged Jordan out and dragged him a few feet away. I jerked away from Laura and ran back toward them. “Manny!” I yelled.

And the car exploded.

The concussion of the blast threw us all backward. I floated through the air, until I hit the asphalt. My head struck twice, and the black smoke overtook me.

I jerked upright and gasped for air.

“Manny!”

My breaths came faster. I was no longer on the asphalt in the dark of night, but on a bed in a bright hospital room. Time had passed without me.

“Manny!”

I pounded the soft white sheets with my fists. And then I screamed.

A woman in blue scrubs with a stethoscope dangling from her neck rushed into the room and right to my bedside. “You're safe now,” she said and gripped my hand.

“What day is it?” I asked.

“Saturday. You were in a serious car accident, and you've been admitted to the hospital for observation.” Her intense hazel eyes locked onto me, and I remembered the sparkle in Lily's hazel eyes before the hypnotism show. Before she hung unconscious in the back seat.

“My name is Audrey,” the woman said. “I'm your nurse, and I'll be taking care of you today.”

“Where's Lily?” I asked.

A uniformed police officer stepped into the room, but he stayed near the door and scanned the room. His graying hair was neatly trimmed above his ears, but several wild strands stuck out from his eyebrows. He hooked his thumbs into his duty belt and waited.

“That's Officer Stephens,” Audrey said. “He has a few questions for you, but I need to check your vitals first. Okay?”

I nodded.

Audrey lowered the bedrail and pressed her fingers against my wrist. Her lips moved while she counted and focused on her wristwatch. Her blond hair was cut in a cute pixie style, she wore little makeup, and she smelled like Ivory soap. Clean and fresh. Unlike the putrid stench from the car. I gagged, and she snatched a barf bag from the side table. She held it under my chin, and I gagged again. But the gut-wrenching agony only produced shuddering dry heaves. I pushed back my hair and found clumps of stiffened vomit from the accident, which made me remember the blood on Manny's forehead. Had it crusted in his hair?

“Where's Manny?” I asked, panic bubbling within me.

“Manuel Santos?” Audrey adjusted my IV line.

“Yes.”

She repositioned my blood pressure cuff, and I wanted to scream again. I needed an answer.

“Is he dead?” I whispered.

Audrey patted my arm. “He has a concussion and cracked ribs, but he will be fine.”

“I need to see him.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and winced. The edges of my vision blurred, but if Manny was alive I had to find him. The police officer took a step forward.

“Not yet,” Audrey said. “The doctor hasn't cleared you.” She lifted my feet back up, and then she raised the bedrail.

“I don't hurt,” I said.

She pursed her lips.

“Not much.” But I did. I peeked beneath the neckline of the gray dotted hospital gown. A purple bruise marked where my seat belt had been, and even the cotton fabric made it sting.

“You received pain meds when you arrived, but I can give you more if you need them.”

“No, thank you.” I wanted to be alert, unhindered by pain medicine, if they decided to let me see Manny. “I really need to see him.”

“His doctors need to finish with him first.” Audrey tugged the bedcovers over me, and I used the sheet to wipe away my tears.

Officer Stephens moved to the foot of my bed and pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket. He glanced at Audrey and raised his wiry eyebrows. “May I now?” he asked her.

“Yes, go ahead,” she said.

“Manuel had his wallet in his pocket,” Officer Stephens said, “and we've already spoken with his parents. They told us your name is either Lily Sloane or Hannah O'Leary.”

“Hannah,” I said.

“Hannah, we need to phone your parents. Where can we reach them?”

“My mom's at work.”

“How about your dad?”

“My dad?” More tears rolled down my cheeks. He was dead, and the last time Mom had been in a hospital was back in Princeton, New Jersey, when it happened. She'd received a phone call then, too, telling her he'd “passed away” . . . as if vague words would lessen the pain. It had been almost six years, and the wound was still fresh in my heart. Maybe it would never heal.

“Hannah?” the officer asked again. “Can we call your dad?”

I shook my head. “He's dead.”

The officer fixed his eyes on me. “And your mother works at four in the morning?”

“Four?” Out of habit, I reached for my cell to check the time, but it wasn't with me. Nothing in this room belonged to me. My phone most likely lay in a million bits on the side of the road. My heart hammered inside my chest. Four in the morning. Mom had to be worried out of her mind. I'd never missed a curfew before. She probably left work and sped home to search for me when I didn't answer my cell or the house phone. She'd think something had happened to me. Which it had.

“Hannah?” Officer Stephens asked again. “Does your mother usually work overnight?”

“Sometimes. She's the general manager of the Main Street Hotel.”

“The large one here in downtown Boise?”

“Yes.”

“What's the number?” he asked.

“Excuse me,” Audrey said, “but maybe Mrs. O'Leary would react better if she heard Hannah's voice first. To know she's okay.”

She read my mind.

The officer agreed, and Audrey passed me a phone. I dialed Mom's cell number, and she answered immediately.

“Hello?” she said.

I wanted to sound calm, but my breath caught in my throat.

“Hello?” Mom said again. “Hannah?”

“I'm okay,” I said, but my voice trembled.

“I've been looking for you,” Mom said. “Where are you? You're supposed to be here at home. What's happened?”

“I'm sorry—”

I gasped and covered my mouth and sobbed. I was sorry. For everything. For losing control of the car. For hurting my friends. For scaring Mom.

Her voice softened. “Oh, honey—”

The phone slipped from my grasp, and the officer recovered it.

“This is Police Officer Stephens,” he said to my mom. “There was an accident. Yes, she's at Gracen Hospital, but she's fine. Yes, we'll give you more details once you arrive. Yes.” He ended the call and returned the phone to the nurse. He jotted something in his notepad, and then he stared at me.

“Hannah, did you have anything to drink last night before you got behind the wheel?”

“No.”

“Drugs?”

“No.”

“What caused the accident?” he asked.

“There was this awful smell, and there were these ants . . .” As soon as I uttered the words, I knew I sounded foolish, but I needed to explain what happened. I replayed the events in my mind and tried again.

“There were these beady eyes . . .”

Audrey's jaw dropped, but Officer Stephens kept his disciplined composure.