Primal Force (K-9 Rescue #3)

She made it to the top of the grade by sheer will at a crawl of less than four miles an hour. But her stomach dropped to her feet as she crested the top and stared out across the edge of the curved road, about to head steeply downward.

There were skid marks on the road and a gap in the railing on the outside. Bare broken branches still swayed, flinging icicles onto the road. Out and beyond the break and drop-off was a pair of high beams arching through the darkness below.

“Oh my God. Law!”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jori’s hands shook as she fumbled to plug her cell phone into its charger and punched 911 for the third time. Maybe more juice would help the call get through.

Don’t think about what just happened. Don’t think about it. Don’t think.

There was a single ring this time. Even before she could react in joy, the line went dead.

“Oh, come on!” She glanced at the bars, swinging her phone around on her extended arm inside the SUV, seeking a stronger signal. One bar, then the NO SERVICE message came on. Hills made a joke of wireless coverage claims.

Jori closed her eyes then opened them immediately. Mistake.

Don’t think about what just happened. Don’t think about it. Don’t think.

She couldn’t call for help. She needed to go for help.

Jori stepped on the gas. The SUV jerked forward.

“Crap!” Too much, too fast. The road was slick from rain, and getting slicker from the fact that the water was turning to ice on contact with all surfaces.

Yet even as she applied the brakes softly, the SUV continued to roll because she was now over the crest of the rise. The grade was steep. Too steep for her to attempt. She applied a tiny bit more pressure and felt the back end began to fishtail.

Take your foot off the accelerator. She could practically hear her father’s voice in her ear as he taught her to drive. Don’t apply the brakes until tires regain traction.

In the time it took to think those two thoughts, the SUV found traction and slowed as the rear tires grabbed asphalt. But now her vehicle was smack in the middle of the road and turned almost sideways, pointed toward the outside edge.

“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” Heart thundering in her chest, she glanced over the hood and down over the edge for the first time since she’d seen the accident. Her heart nearly stopped.

Fifty yards away and maybe two dozen feet down, blazing headlights illuminated a swath of evergreen trees, the only indication in the gloom that there was a vehicle down below. Law was down there. He needed help but she couldn’t get it.

Sam whimpered, scratching at the passenger-side door as if she sensed something had happened and what needed to be done.

“I know. I know. It’s going to be okay.” Jori gave her slow hard strokes from neck to tail. A frantic dog wasn’t going to help. “I’ll think of something.”

Sam was shaking, a combination of her own exertions, her wet fur, and the anxiousness pouring from Jori.

Even as she tried her phone for the fourth time, texting a message in the hope it might get through when a phone signal would not, she noticed that her windshield wipers were no longer able to scrape away all the ice from the glass. She looked at the thermometer. Thirty-one degrees, the magic number for disaster. The severe weather was arriving earlier than forecast. She had to get Law help.

She knew he must be hurt. Equally, she refused to even acknowledge the possibility of anything worse.

She needed a plan. She needed to get to him. To tend to his injuries. Keep him warm until help came. Three things.

“I can do this.” She said the words aloud to help make herself believe them.

Except help. What would bring help if her cell phone wouldn’t work down at the crash site?

Inventory.

She needed to think about what she could carry with her to accomplish her goals before she stepped out into the sharp cold slowly encasing her world in ice. Once she was out, every second counted. The freezing rain was forecast to change into snow, eventually. Snow would be easier to deal with.

“Please, let it snow.” The thought came and went. She had to deal with what was, not wishes.

“Inventory, Jori. Think.”

But nothing came to mind. Her heart was in that wrecked truck below. Her brain was stalled. Nothing else came to mind. She was wasting precious seconds.

She thumped the horn, making long hard blasts. “Dammit, think!”

Whining in distress, Sam leaned in and licked her face. “Stop. I don’t have time for a dog—” A lightbulb went on. She grabbed Sam and hugged her neck. “Thank you!”

Working with dogs for a living made her more prepared for emergencies than most pet owners. Training included first aid for dogs. Like Law, she carried a full canine first-aid kit and two blankets. There was also the roadside emergency kit her father had sent her when she bought this SUV. At the time she’d wondered when she’d ever need it, other than maybe the booster cables. But canned compressed air, bungee cords, and flares? Flares! Flares were good. They could be used to mark the way.

But first she needed to find Law.