Inspired by Crash by Sevlow. –"Thanx again!!"
The whistle sounded deafeningly past the pounding in his head. His fingers flashed around the buckle as the shouts, barely audible ordered each other around outside the car. He glanced over at the other window in a panic at the train; it was too close, there was nothing they could do now.
(20 minutes earlier)
The car bounced and jolted infrequently in the mud, the windshield wipers working hard to clear the view of what was ahead, but having little success.
"Damn." Havoc swore under his breath, "I can't see a thing! Should we pull over, sir?" He looked into the rearview mirror at an irritated Mustang in the back seat with Ed.
"We're alright, just drive slowly."
"Yes sir."
Mustang glanced over at Ed, staring blankly out the side window. A smart remark tested at the back of his tongue, but he held onto it. The last thing Havoc need right now was a distraction, especially in this kind of weather and in this kind of situation. He turned away.
Ed noticed his movement and looked at him, "What?"
Mustang shook his head, and Ed rolled his eyes looked back out the window, darkened and slowly fogging. It must be close to snowing... At least the car is warm.
They drove for a long, silent while, Havoc straining to see through the windshield, and Hawkeye watching too. Ed and Mustang simply stared out the back side windows enduring the jarring of the car as it worked its way down this unmarked road that was supposed to be a shortcut… said Havoc. They had already gotten the verbal abuse towards Havoc's decision to take this road over with, and nothing else was to be said.
Abruptly, the car came to a harsh stop, the engine stalled and all went quiet.
Havoc raised his hands from the steering wheel defensively against the scolding that was to come. "So this wasn't my best idea. I have taken this road before and I heard nothing about flash flooding so I was sure it would be safe."
"Well apparently it isn't." Ed shot back. He was agitated enough that he was even on this car ride, and now he couldn't go anywhere.
Havoc gunned the engine and the wheels spun, unprogressive. They were stuck… The motor died again. Havoc tried to start it again: it sputtered and died, chocked, sputtered, and died, chocked, died; then it wouldn't even purr. Havoc looked sheepishly at his now twice as pissed co-workers and superior. Wonderful.
After a beat in silence, Mustang sighed heavily in exasperation, throwing off his seat belt, slamming open his door, and getting out.
Havoc followed less aggressively and Hawkeye slid over taking the wheel.
Mustang trudged around to the front of the vehicle, balancing over the mud. Bending down, he checked under the car while Havoc jostled the hood up. Not being a total expert on cars, he gave his best guess at the problem: out of gas. Mustang straightened and looked inside as well. "Out of gas is a possibility, but I think our more expensive problem is the belt."
Havoc looked where Mustang was pointing and put on a look like he understood. Nevertheless, Mustang saw right through the indulgent expression. "Ya broke it genius."
"Ah." Havoc nodded and followed Mustang around the back of the car; both of them ducking their heads against the frigid wind, and Mustang began to push. "We can start by getting the car off this mound."
Havoc nodded and joined him.
Their feet slid and squished into the muck giving them no traction to shove effectively.
"Damn. Ed! Get out here!"
Ed rolled his eyes, heaving his door open against a gust of wind that slammed it behind him. Ed jumped a little and looked back to see his coat caught in the crack of the door. He fought with the door a little and managed to un-jam it to get the edge of his coat back. Once done, he lobbed the door shut again.
He came around the back of the car to join the two soldiers, still fighting against the mud to push the car. When Mustang saw him, he stopped- Havoc ceased noticing Mustang's stop and looked at Ed. "Would you mind." Mustang pointed at the guck around their feet.
"Get out of it first."
The men stepped back; Ed clapped, and bent to place his hands on the ground, solidifying it.
Mustang jumped right back in to push some more, not wanting to give the relentless rain a chance to soak it again. Havoc followed in toe.
Soon Riza was out of the vehicle as well. "The engine won't even growl now. There's a good chance we burned it out with the effort of trying to drive it on this damn road."
"Way to go Lieutenant!" Ed threw his hands in the air as he headed back to the warmth and safety of the car. Once inside the cab, Ed laid his head back to rest his eyes and began to doze.
A sharp thud against the window and the shout of his name roused Ed from his slumber, and he realized how cold it was in there. Ed looked out the window at a sopping wet, and enraged Mustang.
"Unlock the doors!" His shout was barely audible through the thick pane of glass and the pounding of… Hail. Ed smirked. He began to reach for the lock, but was confused enough to pause at the look in Riza's eyes… fear? Or anger? It was mixed.
She shouted something at Mustang that Ed couldn't quite make out and a train whistle blared, frighteningly close.
Ed looked quickly around and saw a bright light in the distance. His hand shot to the lock button, hitting it hard. Immediately after, Ed went for the seatbelt. He had buckled himself in so that, if they got the car out of the rut while he was asleep, he would be comfortably held in place; or uncomfortably, he wasn't sure what the rest of the road would be like. He fumbled with it for a second and another slam on the window changed the direction of his attention.
"If you can't work the damn lock, toss us the keys through the driver's side window!" Mustang's voice was stern as he raised himself onto his tiptoes to see the other side of the car. Ed looked too; the train was in perfect alignment to hit the car… they were stuck on railroad tracks. The car began to vibrate with the ground, as the train grew increasingly closer.
Ed turned back to his seatbelt, ignoring the shouts outside the car. Stay calm… Stay calm…
"EDWARD!" Mustang hit the window again, cracking it this time, foreshadowing the damage yet to be inflicted to Ed's 'safe' shelter from the raging storm if he didn't get out now.
Ed's flesh hand shot for the lock, but he gasped in shock at an unexpected (minor or not) pain. He had jammed his thumb between the obnoxious clip of the seatbelt and buckle. Ignoring the sharp stinging of a possible bone break to his finger, he pulled it loose and hit the lock button again.
The whistle sounded deafeningly. His fingers flashed around the buckle as the shouts, barely audible ordered each other around outside the car. He glanced over at the other window in a panic at the train; it was too close, there was nothing they could do now; the light engulfed him.
In a manner of milliseconds, Mustang wrenched open the door, reached for Ed, and the train made impact.