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Nigel and his companions broke into a run, meeting the child in front of a boarded-up shop. "Que necessita?"
"My mother, the car is tipped, and she can't get out." Close-to, the child's arms revealed scraps, and his nose bled. His sodden clothes leached salt.
"Get the team—we might need them." To the child, Nigel said, "Show us. We can help you." The boy grabbed his hand and tugged him onward, Devi striding ahead now as Joe raced back toward the dock, pausing to issue a sharp whistle.
Devi and Nigel raced along the narrow road out of town, an uneven affair that hadn't seen fresh pavement in decades. A cluster of heavy construction machines sheltered behind a ruined fence just before the salt-drying pans began with their thick rime of pink and gray crystals and fresh moisture. Normally shallow and broad, these pans close to the water became murky pools accumulating both rain and storm surge.
The boy pointed, and an aging sedan came into view, its rear end pitched upward and roof revealed, the hood nose-diving into the adjacent salt pan. The storm's rage undermined the road so it crumpled beneath the vehicle's weight when it strayed too close to the edge. The driver's side door lay half in the salt.
"Alta!" Nigel freed his hand from the child. "Stay back."
"You, too, Nigel!" Devi circled around the car, scanning. "Let's make sure it's stable before we get in there."
By the time she'd finished the sentence, he slithered down the slope and splashed into the salt pan, the water level up to his ribs. The viscous stuff dragged at his legs, but he pushed forward, watching the car subside a little more. Was the driver even still alive in there?
A dragging trail showed where the child had clambered out of the partly open door.
"Hola! Viene ayuda." He sank a little down as he approached the vehicle. Water splashed as if in response to his greeting.
"Nigel! Oh, for—" Devi's glance caught his over the front end.
Leaning his hip against the crumbling road bed, Nigel searched into the window. Metal groaned and the vibration of the shifting ground chilled his flesh.
Inside, a woman struggled against the water that lapped in around her. One arm braced against the door as she tried to keep her head free of the muck. If she relaxed, she'd slide straight into the water. She'd had the presence of mind to try opening the door—then Nigel noted the position of her lower body and the deepening pink tinge of the liquid around him. She had thrust one leg through the door. Trying to get out, or just to hold the gap long enough to free her child.
She tipped back her head to keep her nose above the water, and her desperate gaze clung to his.
He dropped down into the water and slipped an arm through the open door. Scooting closer, he brought his arm around her shoulders, lifting her as best he could. His shoulder strained. If only the gap were a little wider. Nigel squeezed himself closer, for once grateful to lack the bulky muscle possessed by so many men.
The driver's face broke free of the water. She gasped for breath, gulping at the pocket of air between her head and the ceiling of the car.
"Sitrep?" Devi edged closer, but not encroaching on the limited space beneath the car.
"She's propped the door with her leg. It's cut, I can't tell how badly. If the car sinks any further, I can't hold her." He flattened himself as best he could against the slope. The trapped vehicle brushed the back of his head, reminding him, at any moment, that he might be crushed beneath a ton of antique auto. Another death that hadn't made his list. Really must update that.
"Right." Devi swished past and tried to get a grip on the door frame to pry it further. Metal groaned, and Nigel winced. The driver cried out. Devi let go immediately. "Seems like the door's bent."
To his right, something rumbled and Nigel's head rapped the car as he tried to look up. Thunder? No. Worse: traffic. The road vibrated behind him and the car shifted a little further, the water inside shivering.
"No, no, no!" he shouted. His hand bunched into a fist, resisting the urge to beat it helplessly against the car. Devi burst away, running, the salt pan impeding her, but she refused to be halted as she vanished around the end of the car.
Inside the car, the driver's eyes, reddened with tears and wide with terror, sought him out. "Señor. Mi hijo."
"He's safe, don't worry." At least, not on that count.
Leave her now, let her head fall back into the water fighting the moment that the road collapsed enough to submerge her completely. Leave her, and he would live.
How long dared he wait? How long could the road and the car in their precarious embrace, resist the urge of gravity and the extra vibration of the oncoming vehicle?
A moment longer, at least. And another moment after that.