Under the Moon (12 page)

“Sam.” She touched his face again. His skin was reassuringly warm, his breath even against her hand. The flashes of panic stilled. “Sam. Can you hear me? Come on, sweetie.” She fought not to tap him harder or shake him to try to wake him up. The cut on his head wasn’t deep, but it had already purpled, and head injuries were so dangerous. She tried not to think about that, to focus instead on what to do. Sam moaned and moved his arms but didn’t open his eyes.

“Quinn, we’ve got to get him out.” There were sirens in the distance, but they didn’t sound like they were getting closer. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”

Which meant Nick thought someone had deliberately caused this accident. Maybe he was only being the protector again, but she trusted his judgment. With gentle hands, she palpated Sam’s neck a little. It felt normal, but she was no medical professional. If she had power, she could identify an injury—but she didn’t. Helpless, and aware that the longer she waited, the more at risk they were, she pulled herself deeper into the car and reached for the seat belt.

“Brace him good, Nick.” She swallowed against queasiness. If they hurt him worse…she felt Nick shift, and his arms moved past her legs to wrap around Sam’s shoulders.

“When you release the latch,” Nick said, “we’ll maneuver him in your way. You can support his head and shoulders while I get his legs out.”

Quinn looked up at where Sam’s long legs were wedged under the dash. It bowed inward in the center, away from the partially crushed passenger side.

“It looks like they might be trapped,” she warned.

“I know. I don’t think they’re busted, though, just maybe wedged.”

“Should you get them out first? I don’t want to break his leg when he falls off the seat.”

“We’ve got to reverse his circulation. If he has a head injury…”

Pooling blood in his brain could cause further damage.

“Okay, here goes.” She reached up, held her breath, and pressed hard on the seat belt latch.

She’d expected it to be jammed from Sam’s weight on it, so when it gave way she wasn’t ready. Nick didn’t have a good angle or the strength to hold all Sam’s weight against gravity. Quinn barely kept Sam’s head straight as he came down on top of her, shoving the air out of her lungs. She wheezed and curled her fists into his jacket to drag him up her torso, trying to straighten his body. Nick cursed and pushed himself into the foot well. One of Sam’s legs came free, then the other, his boot heels thudding onto Quinn’s knees.

She struggled for air but kept Sam’s head cradled on her chest while Nick backed out of the car, coughing. Her lungs recovered and filled, and she tightened her hold on Sam, praying she wasn’t doing it wrong. Nick straightened Sam’s legs along hers, then gripped her ankles and dragged them out of the car. When they were clear, he eased Sam off Quinn and onto the gravel shoulder.

The rain hitting his face roused him, and he jerked his arm up to block it. Quinn struggled upright, weak with relief, her back and thighs throbbing from being dragged across the hard metal edge of the roof. Cuts on her back and shoulders stung, but she ignored them and bent over Sam, trying to block the rain.

“Sam.” She touched his face, her fingers trembling. “Are you okay?”

Nick pulled off his coat and draped it over her to shelter them both.

Sam sighed and blinked blearily up at Quinn. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, thank god.” The pain in her chest receded, leaving her feeling raw but whole. She fisted her hands in his jacket and bent her face to his solid chest. His hand cupped the back of her head, and she stifled a sob. Leave it to Sam to try to comfort her when he’d been smashed up.

She pulled back. “I don’t know.” Her hands shook as she released him.

“No, seriously.” He tried to roll to his side, but Quinn pressed him back down. “What the fuck happened?”

“Your car flipped. What do you remember?”

Sam frowned. The movement pulled at his cut, releasing a tiny trickle of blood, and turned his expression into a wince. He touched his forehead. “Something rolled me. Is the car…?”

“Yeah. Can you move your legs?”

His boots scraped on the gravel. “Yeah. I think I’m okay. Hurts. But not bad.” He made to sit up and Quinn backed off to give him room. She watched his movements carefully. He wouldn’t tell the truth about his injuries. Only once she got to her feet so she could hold the jacket over his head did she become aware of all the people standing around the Camaro. A state police car sat several yards behind them, lights flashing. The trooper stood next to his vehicle, talking urgently on the radio he’d pulled through the window, probably reporting in before approaching the wreck. She could see the top of an ambulance winding through the gridlock. They weren’t getting out of here anytime soon.

A man in the crowd made eye contact with her. Her heart skipped, but he turned to talk to the woman beside him, his body language unthreatening. Maybe Quinn was paranoid to think someone could have caused the accident on purpose, but given everything that had happened lately, it was safer to assume so.

“Nick.” Sam’s voice was weak.

Nick crouched next to him. Quinn couldn’t hear what he said, but Nick nodded, then crawled inside the car. He backed out with a laptop case and a huge canvas duffel that almost didn’t fit through the bent window. He carried them toward the Charger as the trooper approached.

“How’s he doin’, ma’am?” The trooper touched the brim of his hat and settled on his heels at Sam’s feet.

“I’m not sure. He seems okay.”

“I’m fine.” Sam pulled his feet under him to rise but wobbled on the hand braced on the ground and sat back down. He pressed his fingers to his eyes.

“Lightheaded?” Quinn asked. He nodded. She put her hand on the back of his neck, wishing she could
do
something.

“You know him?” The trooper stood.

“Yes, sir, we were a short ways back. We were on the phone with him, as a matter of fact, when it happened.”

The officer looked disapproving. “You hear it?”

“No. It was on speaker, and we were talking on our side.”

“You see anything?”

Nick joined them on the shoulder. “The wheel flying by, that’s it. Doesn’t look like any other car was involved.”

“It wasn’t.” Sam braced himself again. Nick bent to help him up and steadied him when he swayed. Quinn slipped under his other arm to take some of his weight. His T-shirt was soaked through, and fine tremors shook his torso.

“What happened, son?”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and blinked them back open, as if his vision were fuzzy. “I’m not sure, Officer.”

The ambulance had made its way to the crowded shoulder, and paramedics hustled over. Sam threw Quinn a pleading look as they led him to the ambulance, but she didn’t know what she could do. He was hurt, and she had no power to heal him. They would be safe here with paramedics and state police around.

The trooper asked Nick and Quinn a few more questions. When he seemed to have all the answers they could give, he moved on to canvass the onlookers for eyewitnesses. As soon as Sam was taken to the ambulance, though, the people who’d stopped to help or watch thinned out. Traffic streamed by at a faster rate now, and in minutes a tow truck appeared.

“Crap,” Nick muttered. “Sam’s gonna freak about them towing his car.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Quinn walked over as the driver climbed down from the tow truck’s cab and eyed the flipped Camaro.

“That’s my friend’s car,” she told him. “Where are you going to take it?”

“Garage in Angola.” He handed her a business card. “Where’s the driver?”

“He’s in the ambulance. I can fill out any paperwork you have.”

“Here.” He harrumphed and handed her a clipboard and pen. “I gotta talk to the cop.” He lumbered off. Quinn quickly filled out the form and signed it, then left it on the seat and hurried back to Nick, who leaned against the Charger, waiting for her.

He looked grim and pocketed the business card she handed him. “Every record created from this thing is going to flash a trail.”

“I know. Police report, tow, ambulance, hospital.” She looked back to where Sam sat on the ambulance bumper. “At least it happened here, not right outside of Benton Harbor.” They were far enough away that whoever had done this—still assuming it had been deliberate—wouldn’t be able to guess their destination.

“Whatever. We’ll deal.” Nick gave the back of her neck a little squeeze and left his hand there as they watched the paramedics take care of Sam. The warmth could only counter the rain where he made contact, but it was enough to ease Quinn’s worry. One thing at a time, and right now, the one thing had to be Sam.

“Could this have been deliberate?” she asked Nick. “How could someone flip a car without being on the road?”

“We have to find out what Sam saw.” Nick pointed up the slight rise at the side of the road. “There’s a vantage point that could have given enough visual notice, and you know how it could be done.”

“A goddess again,” Quinn agreed miserably. “Just like the hotel room.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions until we talk to Sam. It might have been an accident.”

But what if it hadn’t been? She eyed the crowd with fresh eyes, worried now about an innocent being hurt if the attacker tried again. They had to wrap this up as soon as possible.

When the paramedics seemed to be finishing up with Sam, Nick and Quinn walked over. The woman smoothing a butterfly bandage over his cut looked up at them curiously.

“We’re with him,” Nick said. “How’s he doing?”

The other paramedic climbed into the back to stow equipment.

The woman said, “He lost consciousness, so we’re taking him to Cameron Memorial in Angola for additional testing.”

“I don’t—”

Quinn cut Sam off. Nothing mattered but making sure he was okay. “We’ll be right behind you. Don’t worry.”

“I’m going to check with the trooper to make sure he doesn’t need anything else,” Nick said. Quinn nodded and watched the EMTs helping Sam onto a stretcher. As soon as they’d closed the door, she headed to the Charger.

Nick climbed in a few seconds later and frowned at her. “You’re hurt again.”

“What?” She’d been concentrating so hard on Sam, she hadn’t even realized she was avoiding pressure on her back. Now the stings became throbs, the scrapes and bruises from being pulled out of the car clamoring for attention. “It’s minor,” she assured him. “We’ll take care of it after we make sure Sam’s okay.”

…

The ambulance was still in the bay when Nick pulled into the hospital parking lot. They hurried into the surprisingly quiet ER, where Sam was just being processed. Quinn went through the triage, registration, and preliminary exam with him. At each step the staff response was more positive about his condition, easing her concerns.

Nick went back to the car and brought in dry clothes for them to change into, and Quinn used paper towels to absorb some of the water from her hair and Sam’s.

“How you feeling, dude?” Nick asked Sam, who shrugged.

“Not bad. Tired of waiting. I want to sleep, but they think I’ve got a concussion so that’s not a good idea for a while. They’re going to do a CT of my head.”

“Everything else okay? No broken bones?”

Sam shook his head very slightly. “No, just bruises.”

“Okay. I’ll wait in the lobby,” Nick told Quinn. “I want to watch the news reports, see if it comes up.”

“All right.”

When the door soughed closed, Sam managed a small smile. “Who gave him a niceness transplant?”

“Stop that,” Quinn scolded. “He appreciates you.”

Sam made a noncommittal grunt and stretched his neck gingerly. “Whatever.” He winced while he stretched his back, then slouched again. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

Quinn rubbed her hand across his shoulders. “I missed you, too.”

He met her gaze. “
Me
me, or assistant me?”

She smirked. “Both. So what happened? You do remember, don’t you? Even if you didn’t want to tell the cop?”

“Of course I do. The more I think about it, the more mundane it seems, but there’s still a possibility…” He glanced at her, then away. “I don’t know. My lane was clear for about six car lengths. I hit a patch of…something. Water, oil? It wasn’t cold enough for ice, and the road is well drained, but there might have been a dip in the pavement or something. I spun away and rolled over.”