We began to spin and I squeezed my eyes shut and held onto the seat so tightly my fingers ached.
I felt it when the two wheels on the driver’s side left the pavement. It was as if the entire world tilted toward me for an instant before we started rolling. I braced myself as much as I could and held my breath.
As if the sounds played in my head from a distant recording, I heard the crunch of metal and the breaking of glass right before I felt a sharp pinch in my stomach just as the car came to a halt on its side in the woods. The reason I knew we were in the woods is that, when I opened my eyes, part of a tree branch was sticking through the windshield.
Shaken and confused, I looked around.
The car had come to rest on the passenger side. Drew was unconscious and dangling from his seatbelt, his arms lolling lifelessly toward me. If I unfastened his seatbelt, he would no doubt fall right on top of me.
“Drew,” I called. No response.
“Drew,” I said, more loudly this time. Still no response.
I tried to move, but something was holding me in my seat. The seatbelt strap was on the left side of my chest rather than my right, so I reached down to unbuckle it. When I did, I stared in confusion at the tree branch that was coming through the windshield. It seemed to disappear right into my body, into my left side.
At first I didn’t understand how that was possible. I thought maybe the branch had broken off and it was just pressed against my body, looking as if it disappeared inside me. I thought surely if I was impaled, it would hurt. Right? I’d probably be unconscious, too. Right?
When I tried to move out from around the branch, pain lanced through my back and side. Thinking I’d move the branch instead, I pulled at it in one sharp tug. Blood oozed out from around it.
Following the sight of that branch shifting inside my stomach, a surge of adrenaline flooded my body and burned away the fog that had settled over me. As the haze lifted, there was a moment—a single moment of perfect clarity—when I realized that the branch was indeed deeply imbedded in my abdomen and that if I didn’t find a way to get us some help, I was in serious, serious trouble.
I fought against the hysteria that welled up inside me, knowing it was imperative that I keep my wits about me. We could die if I didn’t. I knew from experience. Sort of.
I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, deep enough to make my side start to hurt again. I cringed in pain. When I reopened my eyes, it was to see a pale face hovering over the hood of the car. In it was a hauntingly familiar pair of eyes, eyes I’d seen in a similar circumstance three years ago. Only today, I recognized them. They were Bo’s.
A flash of relief was followed by even more confusion. I thought to myself that it couldn’t have been Bo’s eyes I’d seen that night so long ago. It just couldn’t have been.
“Stay still,” he cautioned.
I nodded, fending off a surreal sense of disorientation that was threatening to swallow me up.
Bo crept carefully up to the car and looked in to assess me. His face was a tight mask, but I thought I probably knew why. The sight and smell of my blood was likely very hard for him to tolerate.
“How did you find me?”
“Google maps.” Obviously, he felt the need to lighten the mood. Why, I don’t know.
Turning his attention to Drew, Bo reached through the broken windshield and checked his pulse.
“Is he alive?”
“Yeah,” Bo confirmed. “Just at a glance, I don’t think his injuries are that severe. Probably hit his head after the airbag went off, when you rolled. Yours must’ve been punctured by the tree,” he concluded.
Backing away from the car, Bo disappeared for a few seconds. I heard the rustle of leaves and gravel as he moved around. When he reappeared, his expression was grave.
“Ridley, I’m going to get you out, but you’re gonna to have to trust me, ok?”
I nodded.
“The branch is still attached to the tree. I have to break it off so I can pull it out of you, ok?”
Again, I nodded.
“It’s gonna hurt,” he warned.
I looked out at the piece of wood protruding from my left side and I felt my heartbeat speed up in fear and dread.
“Ridley, look at me.” When I looked up into the eyes that plagued me day and night, I felt a strange sense of calm permeate me, body and mind. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
I nodded again, believing his words despite what my eyes saw as a life-threatening injury and an impossible situation.
Once more, Bo disappeared. I heard some crackling and then a loud snap followed by a jarring to my side that felt like it was pulling my guts out. My head swam dizzily, the pain was so incredible. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
When Bo popped up in front of the windshield again, the air he stirred cooled the clammy sheen that was covering my face.
Bo’s brow was furrowed in obvious worry. He reached in and cupped my cheek.
“Hang in there. It’s almost over,” he said softly.
He dropped his hand and I saw him wrap his fingers around the branch up close to where it entered my body. I took a deep breath, trying to steel myself against what was coming. Bo looked at me and I nodded, giving him a silent go-ahead.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
Then, with a quick and violent jerk, Bo yanked the huge stick from my side. It hurt, but no worse than it had when he’d broken the branch from the other end. I looked down to make sure it was gone and what I saw made my stomach churn nauseously.
Dark red blood was gushing from the hole in my side. I felt the warm wetness of it all down my hip and stomach and between my legs where it pooled. Strictly from the amount of blood I was losing, I knew the tree had pierced something important, either an artery or my spleen. Not surprisingly, at that moment I was not very successful at retrieving information from my anatomy class.
I looked up at Bo and he was staring at the blood, his face looking paler, his skin thinner than usual. Right before my eyes, it seemed to become more and more translucent. I wanted to touch it, but I was finding it increasingly difficult just to focus on his face, much less touch it. It was already blurring before my eyes. My head was growing lighter by the second, as if someone was lowering a dimmer switch on my consciousness and I was slowly fading into darkness.