Read Online Frostbite (Touch of Frost) by Lynn Rush - Free Book Online Page B

icicles.
    “Come July the rain won’t cool anything down,” Zach said.
    “Man, my car’s getting all wet.”
    “It’s not going to melt.” Zach hit his shoulder.
    “No, I mean inside.”
    I sank into the leather seat, and let my head fall against the headrest. Dan revved the engine and flicked on the vents. The windows fogged up, and it felt like I was in a dream. Couldn’t see out, but I didn’t care. I was having fun. And after what happened last night—hell, over the past four years—I was due.
    Dan peeled out of the parking lot, along with most of the other people.
    “Dude, pull over. Get these windows defogged,” Zach said.
    “Stop back-seat driving.”
    “You’re worried about a little water inside, how would you like a big dent on the outside?”
    He perked up and slowed down. “Maybe you’re right.” He steered the car onto the bumpy, gravel shoulder.
    The sound of metal colliding rang in my ears.
    “Whoa.” Zach grabbed my arm.
    “What was that?” Please let it be nothing Coat -related. Not here. They wouldn’t do anything so public, would they? Shit.
    I wiped through the condensation to see. Steam rose from the crumpled engines of two cars that hit head-on behind us. I glanced around as much as the fogged up windows allowed, but couldn’t take in the scenery very well.
    Not a good thing.
    Our car rolled to a stop. Dan opened his door and stepped out. Without thinking, I shrugged from Zach’s grip and bolted out. Steam spewed into the rain-soaked air from the front ends like a volcano.
    Trees at the end of a field at least one hundred feet long made for a good hiding place. But a line of cars stopped along the road because of the accident. Lots of witnesses.
    We should be safe.
    “Oh, my God, I hope they’re okay,” Georgia said.
    The hairs on my neck prickled. I sprinted toward the mangled cars. Why weren’t people helping?
    “Dan, call 9-1-1,” Zach ordered. His voice sounded near. “Amanda, what are you doing?”
    As I ran, rain pelted my face, stinging my eyes. Through the broken glass of the Honda Civic, I saw two kids, my age, sitting motionless in the front seats. The hood resembled an accordion.
    The SUV didn’t have much damage other than a dangling front bumper. Blood dribbled from the old lady’s forehead, but she was awake.
    I hurried to the Honda and tugged at the driver’s side door. It didn’t budge. I bolted to the other side. No luck. The metal was bent enough to prevent it from opening, and I couldn’t rip it off in front of everyone. My secret would be out.
    But these guys could die.
    Zach ran to the SUV. Georgia and Dan stood by his car and Dan had the phone pressed to his ear. The rain poured down in sheets. No one behind me or to the side. Could I get away with yanking it off the hinges?
    “Amanda, get back. I smell gas,” Zach yelled.
    Now that he’d said that, I smelled it, too. Lots of it. “Zach. Come here, quick. Door’s jammed.”
    Flames shot out from under the hood.
    “Amanda,” Georgia screamed.
    Zach finally made it to me.
    “Grab the handle, help me pull.” It was the best cover I could think of on such short notice. He’d assume his strength opened it. “I’ll pry it from up top here.”
    “We’re never going get this open.”
    “Yes. Yes we will. On three.” I squeezed. Made finger-sized dents. Hopefully Zach didn’t see that. “One. Two. Three.”
    I pulled. The door flew open, sending us falling onto our butts, but it dangled from the crunched car.
    “Get them out. Hurry.” I rolled over, and worked my way to my feet. The gravel stung as it dug into my wet palms.
    Zach dragged the first person out. I scurried to the door, and leaned in so I could reach the driver. The steering wheel dented the girl’s legs at the thigh. Water ran pink down her bare skin, puddling at her feet.
    Bile stung the back of my throat.
    If I pulled her out, I’d hurt her legs even more than they already were. I glanced behind me. The pouring rain