Jordan couldn’t seem to let go of the seat belt, even though her fingers were straining from the deathlike grip she had on the fabric. Once the car finally stopped moving, she tried to gather her bearings, but she was afraid to move. She was upside down and disoriented, but held precariously in her seat with the seat belt that was biting into her skin. The good news was she was alive, but for how long? She shifted slightly and felt the car tilt underneath her. Was the vehicle going to topple into the water below? She looked toward the windshield and could see the blue ripples of the St. Johns River churning beneath her. The smells of fish, automotive grease and burned rubber warred for supremacy, and the acrid smells choked in her throat. To make matters worse, Samantha Peretti’s notebook had flown out of her hands at impact, and she wasn’t quite sure what had happened to it. She couldn’t see it, and she desperately wanted to twist around and look for it. She was afraid that if she did, however, she would send the car careening into the river.
She looked quickly over at Ben, who was similarly held in place by his seat belt. He had several small cuts on his face and arms from the flying glass, but his brown eyes were open and alert, and he looked otherwise unharmed.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly. She was surprised at the huskiness of her own voice. She’d done enough screaming during the car chase to last her a lifetime, and her heart was still pounding against her chest and felt like it was about to burst. Would the fear never end? Her life seemed like a roller coaster that never pulled into the station to end the ride. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
“I’m okay,” he responded with a groan. “I’m a bit sore, but right now, I’m just happy we’re both alive. How are you doing?”
“I’ll make it. I don’t have any serious injuries. Yet.” She took several deep breathes, hoping to calm her shredded nerves. She tried to brush the hair out of her eyes but stopped suddenly as the motion caused the car to rock.
“Don’t move,” Ben intoned, his lips drawn into a thin line. “We’re going to be fine, but I think our car is just barely balanced on the concrete guardrail. We’ve got to wait for help to arrive so they can stabilize the car before we try to get out.” He very cautiously moved his arm toward the steering wheel and turned the car’s motor off.
“You’ve got a lot of small cuts from the glass,” she said softly. “Are you sure you’re not dizzy or bleeding anywhere else?”
He gingerly brushed some of the glass from his hair. “I don’t think so.”
The side-curtain air bags had both deployed and were basically filling the space where the door windows had been. The air bag fabric blocked the view, but they could still hear traffic noises from outside. Jordan wanted to push them away so she could see if anyone had stopped to help, but she was afraid to move.
“What do you think happened to the black SUV that was chasing us?” she asked, hoping that their pursuer had chosen to flee instead of sticking around to finish the job. Surely, other drivers had realized what had happened and reported the assault. If nothing else, she hoped one of the drivers had managed to call 911 so the first responders could rush to the scene and help them before their car careened off the bridge. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the driver that had caused the accident, but if they could somehow figure out who had attacked them, maybe they could link him to Southeastern, as well. One could hope, even when the situation was as dire as the one they found themselves in right now.
She said a quick prayer of thankfulness that they had both survived and were relatively unharmed, then turned her focus back to the missing notebook.
“Do you see Samantha’s notebook?” Jordan asked. “It flew out of my hands when we crashed, but I can’t see where it landed. We can’t let it fall into the river.”
She suddenly heard a ripping sound, and she saw a knife sawing through the air bag by her door. A few seconds later, the airbag was mostly removed and flapping harmlessly against the door frame from where it hung by a small remaining section near the windshield. She felt the heat from the asphalt enter the car through the broken passenger door with a whoosh. She couldn’t see who had cut away the thin nylon fabric, but she heard a small laugh. “So, you survived the crash,” a deep male voice she didn’t recognize said from behind her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that notebook for you.”
She startled but dared not move to turn around and see who had spoken. It had to be the driver of the SUV who had gotten out of his vehicle and was now crouching down behind the passenger’s side back door. She could see his shadow, but not the man himself. Although the window glass had shattered upon impact, she guessed that there were still pieces of it that were intact around the window frame. She heard him bat against it, breaking more of the glass as he made the opening wider before he reached inside the car.
The car tilted as a result of his actions, and Jordan couldn’t help herself. She screamed and gripped the armrests so tightly her fingers started hurting and turning white once again.
“Take the notebook,” Ben said, his voice filled with both helplessness and hostility. “Just please don’t push the car over the railing. Take it and go.”
Jordan quickly looked over at Ben, her eyes wide. He could definitely see the interloper more clearly from his seat than she could, but why was he offering up the notebook? She couldn’t lose it. She just couldn’t—especially now since they finally had their hands on the proof they were seeking. She opened her mouth to protest but felt Ben’s hand give her arm a tender squeeze. She glanced up and met his eyes, seeing the gentle plea there—Trust me. I know what I’m doing. She nodded and clamped her lips together, still gripping the armrests. Ben understood the significance of the notebook. She knew he would do what he could to save it, and she also knew that whatever the notebook contained, it wasn’t worth their lives.
Their attacker reached in and closed the open notebook, which was resting on the ceiling of the overturned vehicle, before pulling it out the window and brushing off the bits of broken glass and debris that had collected on the cover. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses any longer, and Ben could see a coldness that filled the man’s dark brown eyes. The man had no remorse or conscience. Even though his hair was covered with a Jaguars cap, Ben thought the assailant looked remarkably like the same man that had attacked him only a couple of days before in his own home. He even thought he saw the same small scar under the man’s left eye. He had no doubt that a company the size of Southeastern could have several men such as this mercenary on their payroll. He wondered fleetingly if he was also looking at the man who had murdered Jeremy Sparks and his wife, along with Samantha Peretti.
“Thanks for this,” the man said in a gruff tone. “We’ve been looking for it for quite a while.” He smiled, but there was no mirth in his expression. He put his hand on the frame of the car. “You’ve caused me all sorts of trouble. I hope you can swim.”
“Don’t do it,” Ben said quickly. “You have what you need. You don’t need to kill us.”
“Ah, but if I don’t, you will continue to be a problem. Besides, what’s two more? As I said, I hope you can swim.” He smiled malevolently again, then stood. Ben could see the man’s legs as he circled the car, and he grabbed Jordan’s hand and squeezed it, imagining that the man was studying the best way to cause the most damage. He knew their time for talking was short.
“Don’t be afraid,” Ben said quickly and softly, hoping their enemy couldn’t hear him. “We can do this. Okay? Hold on to your seat belt as we fall, just like you’re doing, and pull up your feet so your ankles don’t get hurt.” He felt the car tip and rushed on with his instructions. “That seat belt is going to save your life. From this angle, the car will probably hit the water upside down. Once it does, the front air bags will deploy. After that happens, just shove yours out of the way, okay? Then you’re going to have to push yourself against the roof of the car to ease the tension before you try to get out of your seat belt. If the car doesn’t flip over, then as soon as we hit, just go straight to work on getting out of that belt.” He caught her eyes and held them, making sure he had her full attention. “Since the windows are broken, the car will fill up really quickly with water, but there will be a minute or so before it goes under and sinks. Keep your seat belt on until we hit, and if we’re upside down, then just push against the roof and unfasten it as fast as you can. Then swim out of your window, okay? If you get disoriented, look for air bubbles or head toward the light. That river is pretty murky, but I don’t think it’s very deep. The bubbles and the light will show you the way up to the surface. Got it?”
Her eyes were filled with fear as they both felt the car tilt even more precariously. The man was apparently pushing against the frame, and they all knew the car needed very little pressure to go over the edge. Ben heard metal scraping against the concrete, and the car whined like a badly played French horn. Jordan screamed again, but Ben kept talking, his tone low and steady, even as the car moved.
“Once we’re in the water, don’t worry about me. Remember, push against the roof before trying to release your seat belt. Just get yourself out of the car, and swim toward the surface. Got it?”
“What about you?” she asked, her voice frantic.
“Worry about you,” he repeated. “Just remember—get out of your seat belt first, then swim to the surface. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The metal groaned, and they could hear it bending and straining against the pull of gravity. Suddenly the car tilted even farther toward the water, and the metal whined once more before the entire car careened toward the St. Johns River below. It felt as if they were on a roller coaster that had just started moving, and the car seemed to be falling in slow motion at an incredibly sluggish rate. In fact, Ben actually noticed the sky and land through the windshield and even recognized a seagull flying by before the car hit the water. It was an odd yet chilling feeling that sent a fission of anxiety down his spine.
With a loud crash, the front of the car hit the water, as if the vehicle had just hit a wall of concrete in a head-on collision. The front air bags instantly inflated upon impact, and the car bobbed a couple of times before flipping upside down once again. Once the car settled, it took Ben a moment or two to regain his bearings, and he was actually stunned at how fast the car was sinking. Water rushed in through the broken windows, and Ben quickly pushed the air bag away from his chest. He looked for Jordan to make sure she was okay. He was relieved to see she was conscious, and their eyes met for a brief moment before they both started to work on unhooking their seat belts. Jordan’s arms flailed, and she struggled with the belt as her eyes grew wide and filled with panic.
“I can’t get the seat belt off!” she said frantically. “It’s stuck!” Water was already in their hair and continuing to rise at a rapid rate. The murky water bubbled around them and seeped into every crevice of the car.
Ben braced himself against the car frame to ease the tension on his own seat belt and quickly pushed the button to release it. With one final tug, he was free. He continued to push against the frame as he maneuvered himself so that his feet were on the ceiling of the car and he was crouching upright. He was instantly glad once again that all those hours he had spent working on his upper body strength were finally paying off. He leaned over so he could get a better grasp of Jordan’s seat belt trouble. She was growing more terrified by the moment and her arms thrashed in desperation as she tugged against the belt. He tried his best to avoid her fists as he quickly assessed what needed to be done.
“Pull yourself up against the frame and try to keep your head above the water,” he yelled, hoping to get her attention over the rising panic she was exhibiting. He wasn’t even sure she understood him in her current state. He reached across her body for the cam-lock belt buckle and pressed against the button, but the belt mechanism simply wouldn’t release the tongue. Suddenly, an idea hit him and he reached into his pocket. Upon graduation from the police academy, his father had gifted him a three-inch engraved Spyderco Police Model folding knife. He kept it with him always as a keepsake, never really expecting to use it, but incredibly thankful that he had it with him today. He flipped it open and started sawing at the seat belt webbing that stretched across her waist. He glanced up into Jordan’s face and saw the fear mirrored back at him as the water started to cover her mouth. She sputtered and choked, even as he saw her strong determination to survive in her eyes. His own adrenaline surged in response.
With one final tug, the belt separated, and he tried to catch her body and ease her out of the strap that was holding her to the seat. The water had risen past her head by now, and her flailing had increased somewhat as she had struggled just to find air to breathe. He understood her panic. The body had a natural instinct to protect itself against drowning, and Jordan’s instinct was to push against him and find air regardless of the cost, just like a panicked swimmer. That inner voice didn’t recognize reason or the help that Ben was trying to provide, and the best thing he could do now was get out of her way. He pushed himself back, giving her some space to flip her body right-side up and get her legs underneath her.
The air bag that the assailant had ripped was waving in the water and kept getting in his way as he tried to open the passenger’s side door. It was impossible. The door was stuck. Time might have been moving in slow motion during their fall, but it was now speeding by at an incredible rate. He knew he only had moments before the entire car was underwater. He finally gave up on the passenger’s side door and pushed against his own driver’s side door. It opened slowly but was hampered by his own curtain-side air bag. He made short work of the nylon fabric with his knife and saw enough space to pull himself through. He turned back to Jordan and stretched out his hand. She had righted herself and found a small pocket of air, and she was gulping and sputtering.
He found his own pocket of air and inhaled a deep breath, then called to her. “Jordan, come with me. I found a way out.” She glanced at him, but in her current state of fear, he imagined his voice barely registered. The taste of oxygen made her more frantic instead of calming her, and when he reached for her, she pushed against him, fighting his efforts without really understanding that he was trying to help.
The car continued to fill with water, and Ben took in a large lungful of air from the last little available pocket before the vehicle was completely inundated. He pulled Jordan’s body against his own and wrapped one strong arm around her torso. She wrestled against him, but he held her fast. Then he used every ounce of strength he had to pull himself and Jordan out through the driver’s side door. Once their upper bodies were out, he continued to push against the car with his legs until both of them were completely free of the car. As he verified that they had both cleared the metal, he pushed against the car frame one last time and saw it slowly sink beneath them. Then he turned and headed toward the surface with Jordan securely in his arms.
Jordan had stopped fighting him.
Ben’s heartbeat accelerated. She was drowning! He couldn’t lose her now. The need for air pressed heavily within his own chest, and he turned his face upward, heading toward the light above him and following the air bubbles that escaped from his nose. He kicked with all of his strength and swam with one arm while pulling Jordan with his other. His lungs burned, and his entire chest started to ache as he slowly propelled both himself and Jordan upward toward the light. Could he make it to the surface in time and still save Jordan, or was he too late?