Travis was first over the snowbank and down onto the road. The driver who had, without knowing it, been towing the two boys was already out of his car, the door wide open and the interior light casting an eerie glow onto the scene.

Nish was lying flat on his back, moaning, holding his arm.

Data was lying to the side, halfway up the bank, his head pushed down against his shoulder. He was silent, as if sleeping.

“What the hell’s going on here?” the first driver shouted. There was anger in his voice, mixed with concern.

The door of the other car popped open, and the pale light inside revealed a large figure, huddled over the steering wheel, in a thick woollen tuque pulled down low.

The second driver made an uncertain move to get out, his galoshes catching on something and kicking it free so that it jumped out the door and fell, ringing, on the icy road.

Travis and Andy had to skirt the second car to reach their friends. Travis was so close he could feel the heat rising from the open door. And he could smell something. Something strong.

Alcohol!

“Nish!” Travis called. “Data!”

Nish was moaning, twisting his body so he could cradle his arm. He was starting to cry. If Nish was crying, he had to be hurt.

But still Data was silent, not even moving.

Travis headed for Nish; Andy for Data. Andy dropped down onto his knees, almost spinning into their injured friend.

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

It was Sarah, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“ANDY, DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Andy backed off as if Data were suddenly too hot to touch. Sarah’s scream had such urgency to it, such sureness, that he scrambled out of the way as Sarah and Jenny and several of the other Owls arrived at the scene.

“He mustn’t be moved!” Sarah shouted. “Somebody call an ambulance!”

The driver of the second car, the one that had hit the boys, was half out of his car. Travis looked up from where he was crouched beside Nish, who was starting to cry louder from the pain. Travis couldn’t make out a face; all he saw was someone large and unsteady. Then suddenly the bulky figure dropped back into the car and slammed the door.

“I’ve got a cellphone,” the first driver said. He hurried to his open door and reached in towards the passenger seat.

The engine of the second car roared. There was a loud clunk as the transmission was forced into gear. The car jumped slightly, and then the tires caught.

“Look out!” Andy called. “He’s moving!”

Travis had to push Nish farther to the side, raising a terrible, blood-curdling shriek from Nish, who was in no condition to move.

“STOP! STOP!” Sarah screamed at the driver, half crying. “CAN’T YOU SEE THERE ARE PEOPLE HURT HERE?!”

But he would not stop. The car lurched, shuddered, slid again. The wheels sang hideously on the ice, and the car jerked away, the Screech Owls scattering in its path.

“We need the police here, too!” the first driver shouted into his cellphone. “And hurry, please!”

There was such desperation in the man’s voice that Travis shuddered.

“STOP!…STOP!…PLEASE STOP, BEFORE YOU HURT SOMEONE ELSE!” Sarah screamed after the departing car. But it was useless. Sobbing now, Sarah sank to her knees in the snow-covered street.

Travis pulled her up, and as Sarah regained her feet, still sobbing, he helped brush off the snow.

“How’s Nish?” she asked.

“His arm might be broken,” Travis told her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” she said, starting to run back. “Come on, we’ve got to make sure no one moves Data! He’s hurt bad.” She sobbed again. “Really bad.”

They turned together, holding on to each other. Travis could feel Sarah shaking through her heavy winter clothes. Car headlights danced over her face, showing not only tears, but also a fury Travis had never imagined possible in one so kind and mild as Sarah.

There were more headlights approaching.

And sirens.

The ambulance was here.

And right behind the ambulance, the police.