Chapter 8

He ran for the car closest to him, but people were already getting out of it. He headed instead for a smaller, older car, still on its roof. He could see smoke clouding around it.

"Help me! Get me out!"

He could hear the frantic voice even before he kneeled down to look. No air bag. Woman, middle-aged, blood on forehead.

"Are you all right?" Charlie called, choking a little in the smoke.

"Yes, yes, just get me out! Get me out!"

He tried to look around the rest of the car. "Are you alone?"

She was crying, now. "Please! Hurry!"

He was tugging on the driver's door, but getting nowhere. "Are you alone?", he yelled again.

"Yes! Yes! Hurry!"

Charlie jumped up, looked around him. There were people at all the other cars involved in the accident, but he was alone, here. He knew he shouldn't move her, but when he stood he saw a small flicker of flame come from the bottom — which was now the top — of the car. He ran to the passenger side, jerked on that door. Finally he lay on the ground. "Cover your face!" he yelled, waited until he saw her do it. Then he put his hiking boots through the window.

Another man had joined him now, and used something to knock most of the glass out of the frame. "You're smaller," he said to Charlie, but Charlie didn't even hear him. He was squiggling through the window, cutting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. When he reached her, a shoulder belt held her hostage, and she was unconscious. Not screaming any more. Charlie could see flames through the windshield now, and with more fear than strength he jerked at the seat belt mechanism, heard it click, felt her drop almost on top of him. He wiggled backwards out from under her, hooked his hands under her arms, and felt someone pulling his feet. More glass had been kicked away from the window leaving the frame almost clear, and he hoped they were getting her out without doing more damage. Charlie and his passenger suddenly popped through the window of the car as if they had been vacuum packed, and the other man let go of Charlie's feet to take the woman's. Together they carried her away from the flames, away from the car, laid her on the road. Charlie hoped it was far enough away. He looked back at the car and saw several other people there now, some with small fire extinguishers. The car was fully engulfed in flames, but maybe they could keep it from blowing up, or spreading to other cars. He turned his attention back to the woman. Was she breathing? Charlie put his ear to her mouth, a hand on her chest. Nothing.

Quickly, he tilted her neck back to clear the airway, and with two cleansing breaths began to give her CPR. Later, he would realize that not that much time passed before EMT units began to arrive on the scene, and he felt arms pulling him back. But those moments that he breathed into her, compressed her chest, continued to check for breathing…those moments felt as if they lasted forever.

He stood back with the crowd for a while, barely even noticed when another paramedic removed his jacket and treated the cuts on his arm. CPR efforts suddenly stopped, and Charlie's heart dropped, but then he saw them turn to address her other injuries, place oxygen over her face, and he knew that she must be breathing on her own again.

"Everybody back to your own vehicles, unless it's one of these in the MVA. We don't need to clog this place up with sightseers." A uniformed CHP officer was clearing the crowd, and Charlie backed off with the rest of them, his jacket slung over one arm, and suddenly realized that no one was holding him. He looked back at the woman again, saw the paramedics preparing to lift her to a gurney. As he kept walking, he passed a throng of officers, heard people explaining. There were other witnesses. He wasn't really needed here, anymore. He could use the confusion to just walk away.

He reached the part of the road shoulder where he had dropped his pack, looked around. He was sure that it was near the road sign, he had just started walking again when all this happened. He walked a little farther, saw the prepaid cell phone where he had dropped it. This had to be the place, then. Charlie looked around a little more, but the sinking feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. His pack was gone.