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Darby
I woke. We’d stopped moving, amazingly upright.
Airbags were deflating.
I tried to release my safety belt, but it wasn’t reacting as it should, and I couldn’t reach into my boot for my knife, or even behind me for the emergency kit with a seatbelt cutter. It had flown in the accident and was lodged against the partition behind the passenger bench.
Next to me, Mark’s head rested on the controls. His eyes were closed. Blood dribbled down his forehead.
“Mark!”
I tried to reach for him, but the stupid restraint wouldn’t let me.
“Detectives Shaw and Herman! Can you hear us?” Loud voices approached from my side of the vehicle.
“Help!” I pounded on the glass.
I tried the latch, but it wouldn’t open. The lock system hadn’t released, and I tried the controls. Dead.
I shook my head and looked out the windscreen. Outside were at least a dozen officers and firemen.
I had to get out.
The dash had crumpled and nearly had my legs pinned.
“We’re going to get you out, you need to stay calm! Can you tell me your name, rank, and badge number?” A male voice came through. I couldn’t see him due to the spiderwebbed glass.
“After you tell me yours!”
Through the windscreen, I could see a couple of the officers smile.
“Lieutenant David Huffington, KCBFD, ma’am. Now your turn.”
“Detective Darby Patricia Shaw, badge number 114279.”
“Are you injured, Detective?”
“I’m not sure. My partner is.”
“Partner’s name?”
“Detective Mark Herman. He was driving. I...I think he hit his head. He’s bleeding.”
“We’re going to get you out. Do you have any passengers?”
“No, just us.”
“Okay, hang tight. We’re having trouble getting your doors released.”
“Me too.”
“Well, if you could see it from this side, you’d know why.”
“I think I may be able to wiggle free, but the dash nearly has me pinned. My seatbelt won’t release.”
“I don’t want you to try anything, Detective. You could be injured.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m okay. But I have to see to my partner.” I shifted my leg. It hurt where the dash had bashed into it, but I thought it was probably bruised, not broken.
What I lacked was the room to maneuver. Try as I might, with every centimeter I managed to move, I was blocked between the dash, the seat, and my safety restraint.
“Lieutenant, what’s going on?”
“We’re going to have to cut you out, Detective.”
“I’m getting claustrophobic,” I said, my voice rising. The last time I’d been restrained, I’d been kidnapped. Sure, I’d been given drugs to completely immobilize me, so it was different, but that little weird PTSD part of my brain couldn’t help equating the two. “Can you break the window and let me see you?”
Male voices conferred, then Huffington came back. “We can. Turn away from the glass and try to shield yourself. Tell me when you’re ready.”
I did. Ten seconds later, there were three loud hits to the glass, then it shattered, sending small chunks all over the destroyed cab. When the last pieces had stopped moving, I looked out at the concerned face of the fire lieutenant.
“Detective, you’re bleeding.”
I touched a hand to my head. My fingers came back covered in blood.
“Lovely.” I looked back at the lieutenant. “I need a knife or scissors or something to cut this restraint. I can’t move at all. And I’m worried about Mark.”
“How about a seatbelt cutter?”
“Perfect.”
He handed it through and talked to me as I worked at the tight woven nylon. I needed out of the cab, but I needed to make sure Mark was alive first. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.
A well of panic began to burble in my stomach. What if...the last words I said to him were in anger? I couldn’t live with myself if that turned out to be the case.
“Good work, Detective,” Huffington said, putting his head through the window. “We’re nearly ready to remove the door.”
I nodded, slicing through the last bit holding me in place. As soon as it was separated, I felt a lot of pressure come off my hips, and it was easy to move the strap from my chest.
Immediately, I leaned over and felt Mark’s neck for a pulse. Electricity fired at my touch, and it was enough to assure me he was alive. Just unconscious. Thank God.
The pain from the electricity ran to my head, but nowhere else. As intense as it was, I wondered if he had a concussion. This was still so new to me, it was hard for me to diagnose his injuries based on what I was feeling.
Mark groaned.
“Detective Shaw, we’re going to cut the door off now. It’s going to get loud, and there’s liable to be more glass fall.”
“Got it, Lieutenant.” I shifted and checked Mark for injuries.
Like me, he was pinned, but his door had been smashed in with the initial roll. I pulled him across the center console, laying his wounded head in my lap, and shielded the rest of him with my body and coat. The electricity went wild wherever I touched him, and on me, it ran straight to my head.
It was probably better if we healed each other before either of us were examined anyway. Fewer questions.
Metal screamed on metal. I peeked over my shoulder. The giant mechanical scissors were hard at work, cutting the door at its hinge.
I closed my eyes and buried my face against Mark’s side.
I heard him talking a moment later. More felt than heard, actually, what with the noise from the Jaws of Life.
“Stay down!” I shouted. “They’re trying to get us out of here!”
“What the hell’s going on?” I could barely hear him, but my ears were attuned to his pitch.
“You blacked out. I’m shielding you!” I lay across his body, my jacket draped over his head.
The noise stopped.
“Detective Shaw?” Lieutenant Huffington inquired. “You okay?”
I raised a little and nodded. The door was mostly gone now. “My partner’s awake.”
He nodded. “Good. I think we can help you out, but I need to check your legs to make sure you didn’t break anything.”
I was pretty confident I hadn’t sustained any other injuries, but I let him check me out and put me in a neck brace anyway. I couldn’t afford to tell them why I was unconcerned.
“Okay, Detective, I think there’s enough room we can slide your legs out carefully. You ready?”
I tried to nod, but the brace wouldn’t let me, so I verbalized my assent.
They got a neck brace on Mark first, since they had to move him off me before I could get out. I probably shouldn’t have moved him to begin with, but they hadn’t exactly been handing the neck braces out. I hadn’t felt anything in my neck to indicate he or I had an injury there anyway, though it was possible the electricity had its own form of triage and hit the worst injuries first.
Carefully, Huffington and his team pulled me out, and when I was free at last, strapped me onto a stretcher as the BPD guys clapped.
Panic set in. “No, you don’t get to strap me into anything.”
“Detective,” the FD guy said. “We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way.”
“Please. I’m fine. I promise. But please, don’t strap me in.” I stretched to reach his hand, which was barely within my grasp.
When he looked reluctant, I lowered my voice. “I was held captive and forcibly restrained two years ago. I’m about to have a panic attack.”
“I can’t transport you without you being strapped onto the stretcher.”
“I’m not leaving this scene until I know my partner is out.”
He looked uncertain. “You need to get to the hospital. You could have a concussion.”
“Not until I know my partner is out. Then you can transport us together. I don’t need a stretcher. He probably does.” I made him meet my eyes. “Please.”
“It’s your life you’re gambling with.” He unfastened the straps.
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath, focusing on settling the panic attack.
I didn’t want to get in the way, so I remained on the stretcher. It seemed like it took forever before the KCBFD finally brought Mark out. My BPD colleagues clapped for him too. He looked pretty shaky as they brought him to the stretcher. I hopped off and waited while they put him on. They wheeled him to the ambulance. I stayed with him every step of the way.
The FD guy helped me into the back, and I sat opposite him as he looked Mark over. The ambulance started up, and sirens started to roar.
I quietly took Mark’s hand, tears coming to my eyes.
He squeezed my fingers. Already, his green eyes looked clearer than they had back when we’d been pinned inside the Flexion.
Electricity ran through my head, but I could already tell it was less intense than when I’d first touched him back in the ruined Flexion. Maybe, if our healing powers took over, we could get past the doctors with a clean bill of health.
Mark looked like he was about to say something to me when the EMT interrupted.
“Detective Herman, can you look at me?”
He shifted his gaze as the tech checked his pupil dilation and double vision. He then recited his name, birthday, badge number, all of his sisters’ names, birthdays, and wedding days, and finally a good portion of the Declaration of Independence.
I hid a smile and another tear. Only Mark would do that.
“I’m fine,” he insisted as we neared St. Mary’s.
“You can remember more of the Declaration than I can, that’s for sure,” the EMT said. “But we’ll let the doctors figure out whether you’re both okay.”
We groaned.
The EMT muttered, “Tough ass cops.”
“And don’t you forget it,” I replied with a wink.