too damn close to the edge of the ditch. Like Sasha said, the ditch is about a ten-foot drop. I think I have an idea, but I have to get her out of the car since this thing is probably going over the side in about a minute. Shoving my way through the wind while grabbing onto the extruding parts of her car, I struggle to pull myself around to the other side where I rip open her door. “What are you doing?” she cries out.
“I need you to get out of the car, Sasha.” As the words form around her, something behind me catches my attention, and I turn around to see a pretty-good-sized tree branch shooting past me. Jesus.
Thankfully, she doesn’t argue and reaches out for me. I pull her out and into me, feeling her hands tighten around my waist. She’s shaking so hard, I can feel it even with the shit that’s hitting us from every direction. Doing my best to wrap myself around her, I close the car door and press both of our bodies up against it.
“I’m so sorry,” she says faintly, her words muffled against my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“I need you to help me push,” I tell her. The wind is coming from the left so it’s in our favor to get the car over the edge. Thankfully Bambi lent me a loaner piece of crap, which is probably also going over the side in a minute. My insurance probably isn’t that awesome on the rental I’ve been running into the ground every day since I got here.
“You want it to go over?” she asks, I think. I can’t hear her very well.
“Just push!” I shout over the wind.
I’m not sure if she’s helping or not but the wind is picking up, and we’re getting pinned to the side of this thing so I scoot her down toward the trunk with hope that we don’t end up going over with the car. It needs to be positioned so it goes down on its own. There’s terrain at the bottom and it’ll lodge the car into place. That’s the only plan I have, anyway.
It only takes another minute, maybe less, and the car tips over the side. I take Sasha’s hand and yell to her, “Get down, flat on the ground.” Her eyes are so wide; it’s breaking my heart. I’m scared too, and I’d tell her that, but it would make her twice as scared. She does what I tell her to, and I get down, hovering my body over hers to protect her from the wind. I wrench my arm under her and pull us to the edge where I start to lower myself down until I’m hanging. “I need you to roll off the side when I tell you to!” I yell up to her.
Sasha is full out crying, and I don’t blame the poor thing. I know I tease the shit out of her because she lives in this little bubble castle of hers but for someone who’s lived down here her whole life, you’d think she’d know to listen to the weather warnings. Texas clearly doesn’t play around. I let my hands slip from the rocks and fall the few feet down beside the car. “Jags!” she screams.
She’s already rolling off, and it isn’t because I told her to. The wind is just that bad. “I gotcha,” I yell up to her. “It’s okay. Let go.”
Sasha tumbles down the side of ledge thankfully only brushing against the rocks on the side. I do catch her and fall to the ground with her.
After quickly recovering from the fall, I pull us both up, and I take ahold of some shrubs before pulling us along the side until we come up to her car that’s lodged on its side like I had planned.
She still hasn’t said a word, but she continues holding onto me with all of her strength. “Come on.” I fight to press the car door up in the angle it’s situated in, pushing against the fighting winds. Quickly freeing up one hand, I help her up so she can climb inside. Sasha slides down the length of the back seat, and I follow her, careful not to crush her. I’m forced to switch spots with her since there’s no way to stay upright, but we’re settled now, and the car is nicely wedged, so we’re safe until this is over.