The Random Acts of Cupid (Christian Romance) (15 page)

Fingers fumbling and shaking, I rolled down my window. At her appearance, an electric current of shock ripped through me.

Blood streamed from somewhere on her head. It trickled down to her chin, leaving a dark red trail. Dirty tears streaked her cheeks, and her hair hung in clumps of frizzy knots.

I frantically jerked open my door.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

But she didn't answer. Instead, she continued to scream, her hysterical cries now slicing through me.

“Help! Help! Please help me! I can't get them out!”

What was she talking about? My eyes traced an invisible line to where she was gesturing. A few yards in front of my own fender, the meager guardrail was bent and scraped. Peering through the falling snow, I could see beyond that to where the frozen earth had been torn up. Standing on the frame of my car door, I looked into the embankment off the side. Red taillights glowed like beacons.

The shock to my senses was like a physical blow. I sprang out of the car, stepping into a blood stained patch of snow. Blood had dripped from the woman's leg where her torn pants exposed a jagged wound. Her sobbing and frantic cries continued, but she wasn't making sense.

Her skin was chalky green. She was in shock, yet I felt paralyzed. My medical background consisted of a three hour CPR and first aid class I'd taken over a year ago. Panic washed over me like a wave. I didn't know how to help her!

Desperate, I gently pushed her towards the backseat of the SUV. Her feet shuffled forward two steps, and then she collapsed. I caught her around the shoulders and practically drug her ragdoll frame to the backseat.

She roused enough to help as I lifted her into the backseat. I unraveled the scarf from my neck and wrapped it around her leg above the bloody gash, tying it as tightly as I could.

Reaching into the back of the SUV, I located a large flashlight and my old coat that I used when skiing. I wrapped the arms of the coat loosely around her leg, hoping the bulky material would soak up some of the blood.

"What's your name?" I asked the woman.

She cleared her throat and shook her head, her brow creasing with confusion. Instead, she began a new litany of faint but frantic cries about her family.

“You can tell me later. I’m Hannah."

"Help! My family . . .!"

"I'm going down into the ravine right now. Stay here. I’ll help them. I promise.”

Hoping I didn’t just make a promise I couldn’t keep, I shut the door and tripped my way through the snowdrifts toward the red haloed taillights.

I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. There usually wasn't cell phone coverage on this road. But, just maybe . . .

No service.

This wasn't supposed to be happening! I should be at my sister's lodge at the top of the mountain not crawling down a steep embankment to help accident victims!

It wasn't even supposed to be snowing! I’d checked the weather report at least a dozen times: no new snow for the next week. Now it was practically a blizzard!

I took deep breaths, trying to control the panic and adrenaline running through my veins as I half climbed, half slid down the incline. This wasn't me. I'm not the brave sort. In fact, I'm pretty much a wimp!

I was facing the risk of a serious panic attack even before any of this had happened. The rational part of my brain said my fear was ridiculous. The roads were supposed to be clear. I'd driven to Silver Springs many times before. And, I was driving the biggest meanest, previously-owned SUV an over-protective father could buy for his college-age daughter. Despite my best rationale, my hands were sweating, my heart was beating erratically, and I was still at the bottom of the mountain.

But those symptoms were nothing compared to what I experienced now. When my eyes collided with the blue sedan at the bottom, I wanted to turn around and run. The front of the car was wrapped around a tree. How could anyone survive an accident like this?

The gas station attendant’s ramblings from earlier replayed in my head like a bad movie. Something about a tragic accident on this same road five years ago. The family had all died.

Taking a deep breath, I felt renewed determination run through my veins as it hitched a ride on an abundance of adrenaline. I had to do this.

“Hello, can anyone hear me?” I called as I slid the last few feet to the bottom of the ravine. My wrist scraped over some exposed branches on the way down, but the pain didn’t register. I called again, louder.

No answer.

I didn't want to do this! I didn't want to see the scene inside the mangled car. I drew in a shaky, hiccupping breath.

Reaching the driver’s side door, I shined the flashlight inside. The beam flickered in my shaking hand. I counted three passengers, motionless and unresponsive to the bright light. My stomach flipped as the beam caught blood marring each pale face.

I bent over, hyperventilating and gasping for breath. I couldn't do this! They were probably already dead! I closed my eyes. "Please, God, I can't do this! Help me!"

I released my breath slowly, then quickly swung my flashlight back inside before I lost my nerve.

The driver must be the injured woman’s husband. In the back seat were two children. The girl I guessed to be about 7; the boy about 5. Though I put all my weight into it, neither door on the driver’s side would budge.

I rushed around to the other side, climbing into the mom's empty seat. Reaching into the back seat and searching for the girl’s pulse, I sighed in relief. She was alive—unconscious but with a strong pulse. I climbed further over the seats and reached for the boy. Another pulse! New energy and determination surged through my veins.

Finally, I leaned over to the dad for a pulse. But I already knew the answer. The front driver’s side had taken most of the impact. No one could survive in his position. To my surprise I felt a slight bump against my finger. It was very faint, but the man was alive . . . at least for now.

I tried to focus. What could I do? I could drive to the lodge and get my sister, Abby, and her husband, Tom, to come help. We could use the phone at the lodge to call for medical assistance. Then we could get some of the other lodgers, come back and . . .

I shivered, feeling the freezing cold seep through my coat. It would be too late. I closed my eyes. A sob of fear and frustration caught in my throat. We wouldn't make it back in time. They couldn't survive their injuries or these temperatures for very long. I couldn't leave them. It was all up to me.

I tried not to think. I tried not to feel. I just acted.

The door by the girl opened easily. I unbuckled her seatbelt, took a deep breath, and hoisted her in my arms. She stirred and moaned slightly.

“I’ve got you. You’re going to be alright,” I cooed softly as I struggled through the drifts and still-falling snow back up the ravine.

My arms burned with the effort and my labored breathing came in short gasps. Just when I thought I couldn't take another step, I finally reached the SUV. Gently, I placed the girl in the backseat beside her mother.

“Maddie! “The sobbing woman gathered her daughter into her arms.

“I think she’s going to be okay," I said, shocked the woman was still conscious. "I have to go back for the others.”

Knowing every minute counted, I hurried back to the ravine and climbed into the backseat of the car. I unbuckled the boy’s seatbelt. He stirred and groaned, his eyes fluttering open.

“Hi, I’m Hannah. I’m going to get you out of here. Where are you hurt?”

“My legs and my head.”

The driver’s seat was pushed up against him. We both had to work to free his pinned legs. Grunting and groaning, I eventually dragged him out.

Even though this was my second trip back up the ravine, the boy was much easier to carry. Because he was conscious, he wasn’t the dead weight his sister had been. As he held on to my neck and buried his face in my hair, I learned his name was Timmy and his favorite thing was fire trucks.

When I put Timmy in the back seat of the SUV, I saw that his mom was struggling to remain conscious.

I faced a moment of indecision. The man might already be dead. It had been tough carrying the kids, and I had no idea how I was going to get a large man up the ravine. Besides, if I took the time to get him, it might be too late for the mom.

Hesitating, I realized it wasn’t really a decision. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try. Having a sudden epiphany, I opened the back of my SUV and removed a tow rope and a tarp.

Since I'd always had a healthy fear of just about every worst case scenario, I took serious the motto, “Always be prepared.” My phobias insured I had well-stocked emergency supplies. I’d just never imagined this situation was one I’d need to prepare for.

When I got to the sedan, I found the man’s pulse still barely registering life. It was probably good he was unconscious. He was stuck. I pushed and pulled, trying not to think about any other pain or injuries I may be inflicting. I had to get him out.

He wasn't budging even a little. Panting and sweating, I tried to catch my breath. But it kept coming in short gasps.

I couldn't do it! Great sobs scraped past my throat. I was losing it!

 “Please help me!” I prayed desperately, yelling at the top of my lungs.

I crawled over him, kicking and punching his seat like a madwoman.

To my shock, the seat broke. I quickly removed the seat back, using the space to pull the man from behind. His lifeless body finally slid from its cage.

Breathing heavily, I dragged him out of the car and onto the tarp I had positioned. I wrapped the tarp around him and tied one end of the rope under his arms. Grabbing the other end, I pulled. The tarp slid across the snow.

Even with the tarp, the man was dead weight. I’d heard that adrenaline had been known to give a person superhuman strength. That and some divine assistance is the only explanation I have for how my 5’6’’ frame was able to drag that man uphill out of the ravine and then lift him into the rear of the SUV.

Finally back inside my SUV, my frozen fingers gripped the steering wheel in terror as I drove through the snow. The woman was unconscious now. I had to get to the lodge.

Timmy was the only one conscious. He was amazingly calm. We talked about his Christmas list. From Hot Wheels to remote controls, Timmy wanted such variety of cars and trucks that Santa would have his work cut out for him.

My breath caught with relief as I saw lights of Silver Springs through the swirling snow. Stopping in front of the lodge, I jumped out. Frantic, I yelled, banging my fists on the front door. An elderly man I didn’t recognize opened it.

I don’t remember what I told him. Everything I said seemed like gibberish in my head, but he apparently understood.

“Go get McAllister!” he called to an older woman near the stairs, explaining to me that a doctor was vacationing at the lodge.

The older man and two others gently carried each person to the large living room where the doctor known as McAllister was putting on a pair of rubber gloves.

Scanning the patients, he called to the man from the door. “George, we’re going to need a helicopter.”

My eyes met the doctor’s blue-green ones and held. He was a lot younger than I had expected, with a strong face and dark, wavy blond hair to go with those rather incredible eyes.

“Who’s injured the worst?” he asked.

“The man,” I replied. “I’m not sure he’s still alive. His pulse was very weak even before I pulled him out of the wreck.”