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Two young men jumped out of the pickup and ran to the edge of the ravine. Frozen with dread, they stood there and watched the van tumbling down the rocky slope end over end, almost in slow motion, each bounce twisting the van’s metal body into a different configuration.
“Tommy...Tommy...what should we do?” Eric Schulze cried.
They watched in horror as the driver’s door flew open and a woman was thrown out onto the rocks. The next instant the van hit bottom, mere inches from the wildly rushing river.
“We have to go down there and see if she’s okay.” Tommy Barrow was already on his way. Eric followed. It was tough going. One misstep and they could end up like that van—or worse, in the nver.
Breathing hard, they finally reached Sierra. She was lying facedown and not moving. “I think she’s dead,” Eric said, his voice cracking.
Tommy knelt down and felt for a pulse. “She’s alive. Eric, go check the van and make sure she was the only one in it, then go back to the truck, get to the nearest phone and call for help. I’ll stay here.”
“But...”
Tommy raised tear-filled eyes to his friend. “If she dies, it’s my fault. I was driving too fast. I took that curve too wide. Go, Eric. Do it now. I can’t leave her alone.”
Eric started backing away. “Her van is smashed all to hell. Tommy! It’s on fire!”
“What?” He stood up to see. “Oh, God, what if it explodes?” He ran as hard as he could over the rocks to peer inside the van. Hurrying back, he said with some relief, “There’s no one else. Eric, we have to move this lady.”
“You aren’t supposed to move anyone hurt in an accident. What if her back is broken, or something?”
“She has no chance at all if we don’t move her and that van explodes. Come on, help me turn her over.”
The boys got down on their knees and very gently turned Sierra over onto her back. “You take her feet,” Tommy said, moving into position to lift her by her shoulders. He glanced at the van. “The fire’s getting worse. Everything inside is blazing. Hurry, Eric, hurry!”
“Where are we taking her?” Eric anxiously asked. “The canyon’s so steep. We can’t carry her clear up to the road.”
Tommy took a quick look around. “Over there, behind that big boulder. Come on, let’s get moving.”
They had just lowered Sierra to the ground behind the boulder when the van exploded. The boys gaped at the sight.
“Holy cow,” Tommy whispered. “She would have been killed for sure.” He tore his eyes from the conflagration to look at Eric. “Get going and make that call. She’s unconscious and could be hurt bad.”
They both jumped a foot when a second explosion shook the canyon. This one was much worse than the first, and what was left of the van and its contents either fluttered to the rocks in minute pieces or landed in the river.
“It’s gone,” Eric said, as though he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Totally gone.”
Two
John Mann of the Montana Highway Patrol introduced himself to Clint and Tommy Barrow, who rose from their chairs and shook hands with the officer. They were all tall men, and their eyes were almost on the same level. Officer Mann probably outweighed the Barrows, as Clint and his son were both lean and lanky, very much alike in appearance with dark hair and blue eyes.
Mann moved a chair from another part of the waiting room to sit closer to the Barrows. They were in the intensive care unit of Missoula General Hospital, where Sierra had been brought by a flight-for-life helicopter.
Officer Mann, big and burly as he was, spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. “Any news on the woman’s condition?” he asked.
“Nothing conclusive. We’ve talked to a couple of doctors and several nurses. They’re running tests,” Clint said in a voice choppy from strain. As concerned as he was about the woman in room 217, he was more worried about his son. Tommy’s face was pasty and gray. It could have been Tommy who had crashed at the bottom of that ravine, and Clint couldn’t get that image out of his mind. The thought of losing his son in a car accident had Clint half sick to his stomach.
“Then she’s regained consciousness?” John asked,looking from father to son.
“If she has, we haven’t been told about it.” Clint noticed John’s close scrutiny of Tommy, and shifted in his chair so his shoulder touched his son’s.
Officer Mann registered the protective gesture and cleared his throat. “It was a serious accident and will have to be investigated.”
“Yes, I know,” Clint said. The stern lines of his handsome face became even more rigid. If Tommy hadn’t gone out of his way to pick up Eric for school, would there have been an accident? Clint knew that same question was haunting Tommy. The boys were the best of friends. Clint remembered his and Tommy’s conversation before the boy had driven off in his red pickup that morning.
“You’re running late, Tom.”
“I told Eric I’d pick him up. Remember, Dad, Barrows don’t go back on their word.”
“Figured you did,” Mann said quietly. “Well, let’s get started.” He produced a small note pad and a pen from an inside pocket of his jacket and flipped it open to a specific page. “Thomas Lee Barrow and Eric Roger Schulze,” he read and glanced up. “Names correct?”
Both Clint and Tommy said yes.
“Okay, Tommy—are you called Tommy or Tom?”
“Either one is okay,” Tommy said. He was looking down, and Clint could tell he was scared.
“Tell me what happened, Tom,” Officer Mann.
“I already told Sheriff Logan,” Tommy said. “He’s the one who came when Eric called for help.”
“I know you did, but I wasn’t there and I’d like to hear it for myself.”
Tommy drew a deep, slightly unsteady breath. “We were afraid of being late for school because of finals, and took the shortcut over Cougar Pass.”
“You and Eric.”
“Yes. I was driving. I came around that hairpin curve—you know the one—and there was one of those minivans smack-dab in the middle of the road. I hit the brakes and so did she, and we—we collided.”
“You hit an icy spot.”
“Frost It was only melted where the sun, uh, shone on the road.”
“Did you see that the driver was a woman?”
“Didn’t have time to see anything. I was trying to straighten out my truck.”
“Understandable.”
“The van went off the road.” Tommy swallowed hard. “I got the truck stopped, and Eric and I ran to the edge of the ravine. It was still going down, rolling end over end. We saw the woman fly out through the driver’s door and land on the rocks. The van landed upside down about a foot from the river. We hurried down the grade as fast as we could. Eric thought she was dead, but I found a strong pulse and realized she was just knocked out. I told Eric to get back to the truck and go for help. He was about to leave when he spotted the fire. The woman was too close to the wreck, and I started thinking about, uh, maybe it would explode, you know? Eric didn’t want to move her, but I knew we had to.”
Tommy raised stricken eyes to look at Officer Mann. “We had to move her—she would have died in the explosions if we hadn’t—but what if we hurt her more?”
“Tom, you did the right thing,” Mann said. “She’s alive and she wouldn’t be if you’d left her where she was. Okay, I have a few questions. Did she come to at all and say anything?”
“No.”
“Did you happen to notice the license plate on the van?”
Tommy frowned. “I don’t remember one.”
“Then again, you might have been too occupied with other things to notice.”
“That’s true. It’s just that the van’s back end was toward us, but I can’t remember a plate.”
“It might have been thrown off during the tumble.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s possible, I guess.”
“Where is this leading?” Clint asked.
“Have you seen the wreckage?” Officer Mann inquired.
“No.”
“Well, there isn’t any, other than a widespread ground cover of tiny pieces of fabric and metal and other unidentifiable debris.” Mann sat back in his chair. “We don’t know who she is. If Tommy had seen a license plate, we’d at least know in which state she lives.”
“Lots of stuff fell in the river,” Tommy said.
“Yes, but the river’s running high and wild in that canyon from spring runoff. Everything’s probably miles downstream by now.”
“You’re concerned about her identity,” Clint said. “Won’t that question be cleared up when she comes to?”
Officer Mann put away his notebook and pen. “I’m sure it will.” He got to his feet and looked at Tommy. “That should do it for now. If any other questions come up that I think you might be able to answer, I’ll contact you.”
Tommy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Clint sensed Tommy’s relief after the officer had gone. Neither Clint nor his son had ever been involved in anything that required police intervention, and Clint knew his son well enough to also know that that aspect of the accident made him nervous.
He put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Relax, son, Officer Mann is merely doing his job.”
Tommy didn’t answer, just kept staring across the room as though his father hadn’t said a word.
Clint drew his hand back. He loved his son more than life itself, and felt his misery in his own soul. Tommy had never given him one moment of justified concern. Yes, Clint had worried some when Tommy began driving those mountain roads, but throughout the boy’s life, Clint had been concerned for his safety, not because he had been misbehaving.
Clint changed the subject, simply to get Tommy thinking about something else. “When I called the principal and explained the situation, he said you could make up the tests you missed today.” He paused, then added, “Guess I already told you that.”
“That’s okay, Dad.”
“At least Eric didn’t miss a full day.” Clint frowned slightly. “How’d he get from the accident site to school?”
“When he called the sheriff, he also called his dad. Mr. Schulze picked him up.” Tommy suddenly leaned forward and put his hands over his eyes. His voice broke. “It was awful, Dad. I’ll never forget it.”
Clint rubbed his son’s back. “Of course you won’t forget it. But you did everything you could to save that woman’s life. I’m very proud of you, son. I hope you know that.” He felt Tommy’s shoulders heave with a sob, and he continued rubbing his back, doing what he could to comfort his boy.
There was no question of leaving the hospital and going home. Whatever they were finally told about the woman’s condition, both he and Tommy had to hear it, firsthand and from a doctor. They had already occupied this little waiting room for five hours; they would remain right here for what was left of the day, and all night, if necessary.
At eight o’clock that evening nurse Nancy Cummings summoned Dr. Melvin Pierce to room 217. “She’s showing signs of consciousness, Doctor.”
Dr. Pierce glanced at the monitor screen that displayed the patient’s heart rate and blood pressure. “Appears so,” he murmured, and turned his attention to the woman in the bed. There were abrasions, cuts and scrapes on her face and hands. The gash on her right temple had required stitches, but X rays and other tests had revealed no broken bones, and even her concussion was not severe. In his opinion, she was extremely fortunate to have survived such a fierce accident with so little bodily damage.
He laid his hand on her upper arm and shook it slightly. “Miss? Miss, can you hear me? Open your eyes. You’re in a hospital and I’m Dr. Pierce. Try to open your eyes.”
As though from a very great distance, Sierra heard a man’s voice. Open your eyes. Try to open your eyes.
Her eyelids felt weighted down by something heavy. Her entire body ached, especially her head. The palms of her hands burned as though on fire, her knees as well. She tried to think and couldn’t.
But she heard the voice, and it seemed to be getting closer. She struggled to obey it, and finally her lids fluttered open. She saw a blurred face, and heard, “Miss, can you speak? Say something. Tell us your name.”
Her brain felt stuffed with cotton. Her eyes closed, and she heard the voice again. “Try to stay awake, miss. Try to speak. What is your name?”
“Sierra,” she mumbled thickly, and fell back into that dark place where her body didn’t hurt and voices could not be heard.
Dr. Pierce straightened up and moved to the foot of the bed for her chart, on which he wrote the time and what had just occurred.
“Watch her closely,” he said to the nurse as he wrote. “I’ll be leaving the hospital in about thirty minutes. Dr. North will be on duty. Call him if she awakens again.”
He swung out of the room and strode directly to the ICU waiting room. Clint Barrow and his son stood up with expectant expressions.
“Go ahead and sit down again,” the doctor said. He sat as well. He looked tired and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Okay, here’s what we know with some degree of certainty. She has a mild concussion and numerous abrasions. There are no broken bones, nor any detectable internal injuries. We do not count her as completely out of danger, but the outlook is favorable. She came to a few minutes ago for about ten seconds, and the fact that she understood what I was saying to her is an excellent sign. I asked her name and she said Sierra.”
Clint and Tommy looked at each other. “Sierra? That was all she said?” Clint asked.
“The only word.” Dr. Pierce got up. “I have other patients to see. My advice to the two of you is to go home and get some rest. The only thing you’re going to accomplish here is to exhaust yourselves. Good evening.” He left.
Tommy looked puzzled. “Isn’t Sierra a peculiar name? Sounds more like a last name than a first. What do you think, Dad?”
“I don’t know what to think about that, Tommy. But the rest of what Dr. Pierce said is very good news.” He got to his feet. “Come on, I’ll walk you out. It’s time you went home. You have those exams to deal with tomorrow.”
Tommy rose. “You’re not going with me? How come?”
“I’m not sure. I just have this feeling that I should stick around.”
“But you won’t have a car.”
“If I need a car, I’ll rent one.”
In the parking lot, Clint saw his son off. “Drive safely, and no shortcut over Cougar Pass.”
Tommy nodded grimly. “Don’t worry about that.”
Clint watched the red pickup until it was out of sight, then walked back into the hospital. In ICU, he went directly to the nurse’s station.
“May I see the woman in room 217?”
Nurse Cummings looked sympathetic. “She’s still unconscious, Mr. Barrow.”
“I know, and I would only stay a minute. But I need to see her, ma’am.”
