Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,74
belt holding me in place.
What the hell had happened?
For too many vital seconds, I puzzled over that question, even as I struggled to open my eyes. My head pounded like crazy, and there was moisture—warm moisture—running down the side of my face. Then memory hit, and so too did panic.
We were in the fucking river!
I sucked in air and tried to calm down, to think. We could escape this, but only if I acted calmly and quickly.
I forced my eyes open. For an instant, all I saw was dark water. It had risen halfway up the windshield and was slowly climbing ever higher. It also poured in through the vents and from who knew where else.
We had to get out. Now.
I kicked off my boots and then braced one hand against the dash and undid my seat belt. The movement made the car rock unsteadily in the water, and I fought the surge of fear.
“Mo?” My voice was urgent. Desperate. “Mo? You need to wake up.”
The window on her side of the car had been smashed; the water creeping up the windshield trickled in through the lower edge. A few more minutes and it would be a tide.
“Mo! You need to wake up. We need to get out of the car—now!”
Still no answer. I leaned over and pinched her cheek. Her response was muted—weak. And there was blood—lots of blood—on her face.
I swore again and pressed the button to open the front windows on both sides of the car. The gods were obviously on our side, because the electronics hadn’t shorted out yet. As water began to trickle in through the windows, I slung the backpack over a shoulder, then grabbed the edge of the doorframe and pulled myself out into the river. The pack made movement a little more awkward, but it contained my knives and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was about to leave them behind—especially when I had no idea if this drowning attempt was but the first of a string of planned attacks. Or even if our assailants were, right now, watching from above and readying another …
I thrust the thought away. Another attack was the least of my worries right now. The water was pouring into the car at a faster rate, meaning I had maybe twenty seconds, if that, to get Mo out.
I quickly swam over the submerged engine bay to the driver side of the car, then grabbed the shoulder of her coat, pushed her back against the seat, and leaned in to undo the belt. She murmured something I couldn’t quite catch, but hope nevertheless stirred. Partially conscious was better than nothing.
“Mo,” I yelled, even as I pulled her closer to the window. “You need to grab the top of the door and pull yourself out of the car. Now! Please!”
For a second, she didn’t respond. The car was sinking fast, and the force of the water flowing into it made it all that much harder to hang on to her and keep us both afloat.
“Gwen?” The sound was remote and weak, but nevertheless music to my ears. “What happened?”
“Later,” I said urgently. “Just grab the top of the door and pull yourself out of the window.”
It took a few attempts but, with my hands under her arms for support, she eventually pulled herself out of the car. I kept a grip on her and slowly kicked backward, away from the steadily sinking car and toward the shore and those who were now swimming out to help us.
I wasn’t entirely sure what happened after that, as it was all a motion- and voice-filled blur. When full consciousness did return, it was to an awareness of soft beeping, people talking, and something tight around my arm. Blood pressure monitor, I realized after a moment.
I forced my eyes open and looked around. I was obviously in a hospital emergency ward, and there was a middle-aged woman smiling down at me. “Glad to see you’re awake.”
“Glad to be awake. Where’s my grandmother?”
“In the cubicle next door—”
“I need to see her—”
I tried to get up but was pushed down by both the woman and the younger male nurse standing to my right.
“She’s fine. Let’s worry about you first.”
“Define fine,” I said. “And where’s my backpack?”
“On the chair,” the doctor said. “Your grandmother has a large cut on her head that’s currently being tended and bruising down the side of her face.”