Ride and Die (Ridgemore #1)

20 My Heart Smashed to Smithereens at the Bottom of a Ravine

20

My Heart Smashed to Smithereens at the Bottom of a Ravine

T he sirens were too loud for my already shot nerves, but when they were shut off, the silence somehow felt more oppressive. The EMTs shouted to be heard over the approaching helicopter, the radios attached to their belts or shoulders crackling with updates and orders that made it too real. Too horrifically devastating.

Griffin was still near the bottom of a dark ravine. EMTs were rushing around us to get down to him, their movements surreal in the flashing lights of their hastily parked vehicles along the side of the road.

A woman in a dark uniform walked over to Layla, me, and Brady, who still held Bobo in his arms. When she crouched next to me, I read her badge, which declared her to be Hayden from Emergency Services.

“Hey, guys. Are you the victim’s friends?”

“No,” Brady retorted right away. “We’re his family .”

“And he’s not a victim,” Layla added.

Hayden nodded, unconcerned by our bristly reactions, as if she’d heard a version of our responses before.

“Tell me what you think I need to know,” she said, having to almost yell. “As fast as you can.”

The helicopter was drawing lower, scattering fallen and decaying leaves in all directions. Layla’s chin-length hair circled her head, and my small braids whipped against my face amid a swirl of loose strands.

Brady said, “We’re pretty sure our friend Griffin went over the mountain. His car’s upside down close to the bottom of the ravine. We haven’t heard anything from him or seen any movement.”

I swallowed thickly as Hayden nodded again, likely thinking Griffin’s chances of survival were slim.

“Our other friend, Hunt, went down to try to help him,” Layla said. “He’s still down there.”

“‘Went down?’” Hayden asked.

“Climbed down,” I answered. “We didn’t know how long you guys would be, so he went down to try to help.”

“I see.” But Hayden’s lips pursed in disapproval before she leaned toward the radio on her shoulder, pressed a button, and said, “We’ve got a situation. Someone’s climbing down the ravine to try to help the vic.”

“Please don’t do anything that would startle him,” I said. “Hunt, our friend who’s climbing down, he’s free-climbing.”

Hayden took a second to frown at me before adding into her radio, “The climber’s going down without safety gear. Proceed with extreme caution.”

She looked at the three of us. “Anything else I need to know before the team descends into the ravine?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Griffin thought someone had tampered with his car, cut the brake line. All of a sudden, the brakes gave out. The emergency brake didn’t work either.”

“And Griffin knows his car inside and out,” Layla said. “He keeps everything running perfectly.”

“Yeah,” I added. “He told me he checked the car’s fluids just yesterday.”

Hayden eyed me and my extended leg. “You were in the car with him?”

“Yeah, me and my dog.”

She turned to check out Bobo too.

“Griffin made me jump with my dog. By the time I rolled to a stop, I heard what sounded like him going over.”

A couple of EMTs in the same uniform Hayden wore ran over to the edge of the mountain, carrying rope and what looked like maybe a harness, though I didn’t get a great view before they started yelling down the mountainside. One of them shouldered a large spotlight and pointed it down into the ravine.

Hayden glanced from them to us. “They’ll get your friend Hunt out too. Better to get him up and out before the chopper starts churning everything right above him.”

As far as I could tell, that ship had already sailed. Even Bobo’s short fur was whipping around under the downwash from the helicopter’s blades.

“It’ll get worse,” Hayden said, as if responding to my thoughts. “We’ve gotta secure everything first so then we can focus on getting our team to the wreck and getting your friend out.”

“What can we do to help?” I asked.

“Stay out of the way. Let us do our jobs. I’ll be right back to check you out.”

Brady scowled, but none of us complained. The sooner Griffin and Hunt were out of that ravine, the better.

Hayden stood and seemed ready to walk away when she faced us again. “Are you guys high schoolers? You go to Ridgemore High?”

“Yeah,” Layla said.

“ Shit . So the Hunt who’s down the ravine is Hunt Fletcher?”

“Yep,” Brady said. “You know Hunt?”

“I don’t, but I’m Hayden Wills , Zoe’s big sister.” She paused for a quick second, likely considering her little sister’s crush on the guy currently down a dark, sketchy, dangerous ravine, now beneath the whipping winds of a helicopter.

“I’ve gotta go make sure they’re being careful with him. Stay put.” She bounded away two steps before glancing back at me. “You’re okay to wait a minute?”

“Of course. Go help them. Please . That’s what I really need.”

She smiled tightly. “I appreciate that, but my job’s to check you out too. I’ll be right back.”

More people in uniform ran around us, setting up spotlights and aiming them into the precipice, making it even harder to see anything beyond their bright beams. But as the chopper flew lower, hovering directly above the ravine, I spotted the outlines of at least two people being lowered into the chasm with what looked like a stretcher in their hold, the taut line of ropes trailing behind them.

Brady knelt beside me. “Can you take Bobo? I’ve gotta go see. Make sure they’re doing things right.”

Anybody else might think it a ludicrous statement. Here we were, high schoolers, feeling the need to supervise the professionals with all the gear and experience. But the tightness in my chest loosened some, knowing Brady would be there to keep an eye out for Griffin and Hunt, and I readily extended my arms to receive the dog.

My pittie’s weight settled heavily on my lap, sending a sharp wave of pain from my hip to the tips of the toes of my left leg, but I didn’t utter a peep about it, telling Layla instead, “You go too. I’m not going anywhere.”

She hesitated for a second, but then took off after her brother, who stood off to the side and out of the way, but perched so that he had an unobstructed view down the incline.

Bobo was sluggish, but I took the fact that he was no longer whimpering as a good sign. His leg was obviously hurt, but I hoped that was as far as the damage went. If he had internal damage too, well, I didn’t want to think about it.

Forcefully keeping my thoughts from heading in that direction, I waited, each inhale feeling incomplete, ragged even, like I wouldn’t be able to take a full breath until I knew my crew was safe.

An hour later, which was probably more like five minutes, Hayden squatted next to me, then opened a large bag and drew out a blood pressure cuff.

“I’m going to need you to move your dog.”

I sighed, guilt rolling through me though I understood it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known what would happen, that I should have left Bobo at home after all.

“He’s hurt too.”

She quickly glanced at him before pinning her attention on me again. I prepared to defend Bobo, to explain how worthy he was of her attention. But then she said, “He jumped out of the car with you. I assume it was moving?”

“Yes. The brakes had already gone out then. Griffin was trying to force the car to slow down through downshifting, but he also didn’t want to strip the gears. Then we’d be speeding down the hill without anything to slow us down.”

“Sounds like your friend handled the situation as best he could.”

“He did. And he didn’t. He didn’t jump out before going over. And he should have.”

“Hmmm,” Hayden said noncommittally. “Can you slide your dog beside you so I can check on you?”

I hesitated. “His front right leg’s hurt.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but my priority is checking on you.”

I started to glare at her, realized she was almost certainly just following official procedure, and gently slid Bobo to lie on the ground beside me. The moment he was off my lap, Hayden snapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm. I kept my other hand resting on Bobo. Though his eyes were closed, I didn’t want him to worry for a second that I was going to leave him.

“Does it hurt here?” Hayden asked a millisecond before she put pressure on my shinbone.

I almost blacked out from the sudden onslaught of pain.

“I’ll take that as a big yes,” she said, though I was unaware of how exactly I was signaling my discomfort. I was doing everything I could just to stay conscious.

“I’m gonna need a couple of stretchers over here,” she said into her shoulder radio. I had no idea how anyone would hear her over the helicopter and the throbbing of my heartbeat through every part of my body.

Next I knew, Hayden was leaning over me, her face close to mine, which made me realize I was flat on my back and didn’t remember getting that way.

“Stay with me, Joss. You’re gonna be okay.”

Had I told her my name? I must have. “I’m not worried about me,” I slurred. “Griffin. Hunt.”

“Hunt’s fine. He’s already coming up.”

“Griffin,” I said.

“Hold still. You’re going to feel a pinch as I insert your drip line.”

“Griffin,” I repeated, more urgently this time. But her attention was on my arm. A quick, biting sting told me the needle was in, and then cold swam through my veins as she adjusted the IV bag above my head.

I tried to turn to look but discovered myself strapped in, my neck in some sort of brace preventing movement.

“What … what’s going on?”

“You’re okay.” But Hayden was distracted by something behind me that I couldn’t see.

“I know I’m okay,” I snapped, pulling on my awareness, forcing it to comply. “I was just walking around, looking for Griff.”

“Well, I don’t know how on earth you managed to do that. Your leg’s badly fractured.”

“Okay. What about Griffin?”

No answer as she riffled through the large bag at her feet.

“Why am I so groggy?”

“It’s the pain meds in the IV.”

“No, before that.”

Finally, Hayden’s face appeared above mine. “Probably the pain. You held it together until you didn’t need to anymore. I’ve seen it a million times.”

Only Hayden didn’t seem old enough to have seen anything like this a million times in our small town, where things like this didn’t happen often.

“What about Bobo?” I was no longer able to focus on her face.

“Bobo’s the dog?” Hayden asked.

“Yeah,” Layla answered for me, “and he’s important to her, to us.”

Damn right he is.

“Lay?” I called out and immediately felt her hand in mine, the arm that didn’t have a tube sticking out of it.

“I’m here.”

“Tell her to back off the meds. I can barely think.” I blinked up at my friend. Her face was blurry, her hair falling around it in a yellow cascade.

“Too late, woman. From the looks of you, you’re gettin’ the good stuff.”

“I don’t want the good stuff.” Panic suddenly squeezed my throat. “I want Griff and Hunt and Bobo.”

“Hunt’s already up, and Hayden’s got Bobo strapped into a stretcher, even though I don’t think she’s supposed to treat animals the same way she does people.”

“And Griff?”

Layla paused.

I squeezed her hand so hard she squeaked, then pulled hers away, shaking it out.

“They couldn’t get any of the doors open. They just finished cutting a hole in Clyde’s undercarriage. They’re pulling him out now.”

“So he’s def in there?”

“Yeah.” The way Layla said it didn’t make it seem like a good thing. “Brady and Hunt are talking with Wade’s and Reed’s dads.”

Xander Jones was the sheriff and Kyle Carter one of his deputies.

Despite my fervent attempts to keep track of what was going on around me, I faded in and out of awareness. I wasn’t passing out, I just wasn’t able to focus, no matter how hard I tried. I registered shouted voices around me and crackling through radios, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. The whirring of the helicopter and what might have been a saw that cut through metal. More cars arriving, doors opening and closing.

“Layla?” I called, but no one answered. Again, I tried to turn my head to find my friends and Bobo. I managed only to press against the foam padding of a neck brace I didn’t think I needed.

“Brady? Hunt?” I attempted, but still nothing. “Anyone?”

Hayden filled my vision.

“Are you okay, Joss? Do you need anything?” This time, her brow was low with concern. Or was that sadness?

“Yeah,” I said, unsure how clear my words were. Whatever was in the IV was working overtime to knock me out. “Where’s Griffin?”

Her eyes clouded before she opened her mouth to answer. In that brief moment, my heart wanted to shatter. “Is he okay? Is he…?” I swallowed with difficulty. “Is he alive?”

Before she could respond, a wail cut through the racket, suffocating me.

That was Layla’s voice.

Hayden pressed her lips together before saying, “I’m really sorry, Joss. He didn’t make it.”

“No. Nope. Uh-uh. That’s not possible.”

My heart said it was, careening toward a lethal crash of its own. I pushed through the anguish, refusing to accept Hayden’s news, though it seemed confirmed by Layla somewhere beyond my line of sight.

“Joss,” Hayden began, her voice filled with compassion. “There’s nothing we can do. He’s gone. He’s been gone.”

“No.”

“His neck’s broken, probably on impact. There’s nothing we can do now to revive him.”

“Get me the sheriff,” I barked as my faculties returned through sheer force of will.

“Joss, that won’t do anything—”

“Hayden,” I said, encouraged that I remembered her name since I couldn’t get my eyes to sharpen enough to read her nametag anymore. “Please. It’s important. I need to speak with the sheriff.”

She wavered. “Your friends have already talked to him.”

“But I don’t think they’ve told him what he most needs to hear. Please . Take me to him.”

She looked behind me. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Then ask him to come to me. I’m literally begging you.”

She sighed heavily.

“I promise you, I’m not crazy. I need to speak with him. He doesn’t know everything.”

“You can tell me whatever it is and I’ll pass it on. He’s busy coordinating—”

“Hayden. You’ve gotta do this. Right now. It’s urgent.”

She stared at me hard while I tried to make myself appear lucid. I didn’t think I succeeded, because when she rose, it was with a heavy sigh, like she’d just been talked into doing something incredibly stupid.

I exhaled in relief and waited, hoping she’d actually gone to get Xander Jones instead of simply walking away from me. Since I couldn’t get out of this contraption on my own, it’d be an effective escape from my pleas.

Enough time passed that my awareness slipped in spite of my ferocious grip on it. When the sheriff finally crouched down beside me, I had to fight to regain lucidity.

“Hey, Joss,” he said. “Just take it easy, okay? We’ve got everything handled. Just rest and get better. Your parents will meet us at the hospital.”

And he pivoted to walk away.

“Wait, no!” I felt as if I screamed it; I don’t know how it actually came out. Either way, the sheriff turned back toward me.

Furiously, I blinked away the fog until my focus landed on his furrowed brow.

It was more important than ever that I say the right thing. I’d only get one chance at it, and I felt as if I were drunk, high, and massively sleep-deprived all at once. Not good.

But it didn’t matter. It was what I had.

“Listen, Sheriff. I know this is gonna sound crazy and that you might think it’s ’cause of whatever pain meds I’m on right now, but please listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” he said, but his gaze was elsewhere, as if he were only going through the motions.

I wasn’t sure if what I was about to do was the right thing. But giving up on Griffin surely was the wrong thing.

“You know how Brady came back from the dead?”

He chuffed. “Well, it was a miracle of medicine.”

“No, it wasn’t. He’s not like everyone else.”

Finally, Xander Jones’s attention was fully on me.

“This is top secret, Sheriff. Promise me first you won’t tell a soul what I’m about to tell you.”

“I can’t do that. If it’s police business, then—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, please . This is my friend’s life I’m talking about here.”

“Griffin or Brady? I’m so sorry, Joss, but Griffin’s gone.”

“No, he’s not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Please promise me. Please, please, please.”

“Okay, fine. I promise I won’t repeat what you say unless I’m legally obligated to.”

As far as promises went, even through the pain-med fog, I knew this one sucked. But it seemed to be as good as I was going to get.

“We’re not normal. Brady, Griffin, the rest of us. We can’t die the same way others can.”

My stare might not have been sharp, but the sheriff’s was like a damn razor blade as it narrowed in on me then.

“How do you mean?”

“I’m not really sure about the science of it all, but it wasn’t just chance that Brady survived his accident. I mean, Sheriff, he had a hole the size of an arm going right through his chest. When have you ever heard of anyone surviving rebar through the heart?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. We were experimented on when we were kids. We have super healing, or something like that.” It sounded completely insane, but what the hell did I have to lose? If I lost Griffin, nothing much would matter after that. It was now or never. Time for the Hail Mary pass.

“You have super healing?” the sheriff repeated, his voice thick with disbelief.

I tamped down my own disbelief and made myself keep going, even though an insistent part of me was urging my mind to let me pass out. But fuck no.

This was for Griffin.

“Yes.” I imbued the affirmation with a confidence I hardly felt. “Please, Sheriff, you’ve gotta believe me. You have to shock Griffin to make him come back.”

This time, the sheriff sighed, sinking back onto his haunches while silencing his radio as it came to life with words I didn’t attempt to decipher, my entire focus on this one mission.

“Defi … brate him.” I heard myself mispronounce the word but didn’t have the energy to correct it. “Like what happened with Brady. He only came back to life after the shock.”

The sheriff did nothing more than stare at me for several beats.

“Please,” I repeated. Never one to beg for anything, I was making up for a lifetime of reticence in this one night.

Eventually, he shook his head, muttering, “I must be out of my damn mind even talking about this. Your friends asked me to do the same thing. But Griffin’s neck’s snapped. No amount of shocking will help him now.”

I inched my fingers forward, attempting to reach him through the restraints keeping me in place. It was futile, but he seemed to notice the effort.

“Nothing to lose here. Just give him a chance,” I pressed.

The sheriff shook his head again. Fuck . I hadn’t convinced him.

Tears stung my eyes, making everything even blurrier. To a smudge of tan uniform and hair, I murmured so that he had to strain to hear me over the chaos surrounding us, but it was all I had.

“If you try it and it doesn’t work, no harm done. If you don’t try it, and Griffin dies, I’ll never recover. My friends will never recover. Please, Sheriff, for all of us. Just try . That’s all I’m asking for. One shot. One chance.”

My tears receded. I blinked them away to find him staring at me hard, until his jaw finally tightened.

“Fine. Okay. We’ll do it. But you and your friends keep this between us. No one else knows.”

“Yes, yes, I promise. Thank you, thank you.” But before my last words left my lips, he’d stalked out of my frame of vision.

Afterward, too much time passed without any sign of what was happening. My friends didn’t come check on me or Bobo. Neither did Hayden. Nothing stuck out from the din.

Then, finally, voices shouted, radios crackled with renewed urgency, and the helicopter flew so low I had to squinch my eyes shut, wishing someone would come to reassure Bobo. Several strands of my stray hair whipped against my eyes, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

It took everything I had to hang on and not lose my ever-loving mind, cinched in place on this gurney, ready for transport, when I needed to find out what was happening. I thought of nothing but Griffin.

He’s fine. He’s alive. He’s gonna be okay.

I realized full well I might be lying to myself, but it was the best I had.

When the whirring of the chopper finally receded, Layla slid to a halt beside me. Her hips jolted the side of the gurney, catapulting a fresh wave of pain through my leg and making my vision swim.

“Oh my God, Joss. They did it. He’s alive. They got a pulse. He’s fucking alive. Griff’s alive!”

I tried to smile, probably failed, then allowed myself to check out. I didn’t pass out, I didn’t fall asleep, but I was no longer focused on anything as my stretcher jostled. I was picked up and set down. Doors shut and people talked to me.

I didn’t talk back.

Griffin’s okay. He’s alive.

That was what I held on to.

It was enough.