Then, like a light switch being flipped, her memory clicked and it all came back in a rush. Darwin. The Helton woman and that big dude. The storm, the ice, and the edge of the world.
The dashboard lights glowed softly, even though the engine was dead. One headlight shone, marking her spot in the night. All she could see through the shattered windshield was the tree that had stopped her descent down the mountainside. The entire front end of the Blazer was crumpled, the dash twisted and crushed and caved in on itself. Slowly she turned her head, because she felt as if it wasn’t securely attached to her neck. What a weird feeling; she didn’t like it. But her neck worked, and that was good.
A big limb had crashed through the window, impaling the passenger seat. Broken glass was strewn about the front seat, and cold wind whipped into the cab from all the broken windows.
Niki touched a hand to her head, felt the sticky blood there. Her entire scalp throbbed, and she was shaking from head to foot, one big convulsive shudder. She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t make her muscles stop quivering. Damn it, she could’ve been killed, she could be dead right now, like Darwin. And it was all their fault!
A part of her wanted to stay right where she was. She was so tired, so cold. Moving would take more energy than she had. After a few minutes, though, her survival instinct kicked in. Ordering her thoughts was difficult, but determinedly she set about getting them all lined up. She couldn’t stay here. Once the battery wore down, she wouldn’t have even the little bit of light she now had. She’d freeze to death here, in the dark and cold, if she didn’t bleed to death first. Again she gingerly touched her head. The cut there was bleeding, but wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Hell, she was alive, and she didn’t seem to be missing any body pieces, so she’d already come out ahead. She listened, wondering if Lorelei and the big guy were working their way down the mountain looking for her, to come help … but there weren’t any voices. There was wind, there was ice, and the creaking of the tree. That was it. Those bastards had left her here to die. What kind of people would do something like that?
She stared at the limb that had come through the windshield, imagined what would’ve happened if it had been just a foot or so to the left, and shuddered.
The driver’s side window had broken out, too, and Niki turned her head in that direction as she attempted to orient herself. Most of the light from the one remaining headlight was blocked by something, maybe the bumper, but some leaked out to show her where she was.
On the side of a freakin’ mountain, perched on an old, creaky, badly damaged tree that was coated with ice. If the tree went, if it snapped and gave way, the Blazer would go the rest of the way down. She doubted she’d be so lucky the next time some obstacle stopped what was left of the truck.
Niki pulled the door handle and pushed. When nothing happened she pushed again, putting all her weight, such as it was, into the task of opening the door. The Blazer creaked and rocked and she stopped for a moment. Anger flared up inside her, making her forget her physical pain. Everything that had happened so far—the storm, Darwin’s death, the destruction of the Blazer, and Niki’s injuries, even the fact that the damn door wouldn’t open—it was all Lorelei Helton’s fault. That bitch, look what she’d done. If she’d just stayed where she’d been told to stay, none of this would’ve happened.
Where was her flashlight? She felt around for it but couldn’t find it, and she didn’t have time to look for it. There was just enough light from the truck to show her the way. The door wasn’t going to open, she finally decided, so she heaved herself up and crawled through the broken window, her movements cautious so as not to rock the Blazer. As she crawled out into the cold wind, she decided the vehicle was pretty firmly caught against the tree.
The slope was so steep she couldn’t stand upright. Clinging to the wrecked truck, Niki looked down at herself. She hadn’t escaped the wreck entirely unscathed. Her head was bleeding, there was a huge rip in the right thigh of her jeans and blood was seeping from it, and her shoulder hurt. It wasn’t broken, but it might’ve been. Still, as she looked up to the top of the slope, she felt pretty damn lucky, and she knew there had to be a reason for her survival.
She had survived so she could take revenge on those who’d done her and Darwin wrong.
She had survived so she could do what was right.
With ice covering everything, the only way up the steep hill before her was to crawl, so that’s what she did. With every inch she moved forward, she was more and more certain of her purpose. She wasn’t going to run. She wasn’t going to find a warm spot and cower until morning. She was going to kill Lorelei Helton and the man who murdered Darwin. After all, it was justice, plain and simple.
“How many damn clothes do you have on?” Gabriel growled, pulling at yet another shirt.
“Enough!” she said, slapping at his hands. “Stop that! I can get my own clothes off.”
“Then do it.” He couldn’t carry her, but he could bully her and half-drag her and push her up the stairs, with only the bobbing light from one increasingly dim flashlight to show him the way. In a newer house maybe there would be a full bath downstairs, but the only downstairs bathroom in the Helton house was a half bath that had been added on years earlier.
A hot shower would warm Lolly up. Shower, dry clothes, warm food. It was a simple plan, a necessary plan, if she’d just cooperate.
“I can walk, you know,” she said, sounding grumpy but also more tired than he was comfortable with. He didn’t think she was so far gone that she needed hospitalization—not that he could’ve gotten her to a hospital if she did—but she was on the edge. Another half hour outside, and a hot shower wouldn’t have been such a great idea.