Blaze (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 1) by Rachael Herron Page B

through the pier’s barrier and drove at least fifty feet down the pier before hitting the rail and smashing partially through it.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
     
    Grace felt, rather than heard, the noise. 
    A cacophony of sound—screams, guttural cries for help—split the air. 
    Tox, who’d been facing the accident, was up and running before Grace had even fully turned around in her seat. 
    The car was balanced, teetering. It looked as if a strong wind might blow it all the way off and down to the water below. Inside, Grace could see that the airbags had deployed but it was impossible to tell how many people were still in the car. 
    People were running toward the crash, but Tox moved faster than anyone else. He stopped to check a woman who was bleeding from the face. He said something to her, and flagged another person down. Grace heard him say, “Direct pressure. Keep it there,” and then he ran to the car. 
    From inside the vehicle came a sharp scream.
    Tox turned around and looked right at Grace, and somehow, she knew. 
    “Samantha,” she breathed, and then Grace was running, too, faster than she ever knew she could, straight down the pier. The car had struck several people, and she didn’t care about their injuries. They didn’t matter. 
    Only getting to the car mattered. 
    “You’re going to help me,” said Tox. 
    His words didn’t matter, either. “Sam! Samantha!” Grace could see her sister’s hair, her head at a strange angle in the front seat. The driver—whoever he was—looked as if he was waking up, turning his head in confusion. 
    “Grace!” barked Tox. “I need you.” A piece of the pier, part of the railing, broke off next to his elbow and sailed downward, toward the crashing waves. 
    Grace’s hand rested on the glass of the passenger window, as close as she could get to her sister. “Okay. Anything. Tell me.” The lower part of the door was warped, the handle sheared off by hitting something. How would they be able to—?
    Tox touched her arm. His hand was warm. Reassuring. As if everything was okay, which it obviously wasn’t. “We need to secure the car. I don’t want anyone to come near it, I don’t trust the weight.” As if listening to him, the pier gave an ominous creak below their feet. “I need you to keep them back.” He gestured at the crowd gathering. 
    But Grace couldn’t do that. “No. I’m getting her out.” She turned her head to yell through the glass. “You hear that, Sam? We’re getting you out!” She pulled on the handle of the back passenger door of the car. 
    “Don’t touch anything!” warned Tox, grabbing her hand. 
    “Tox—” 
    He pointed at the front, where the bumper was hanging treacherously over the water. “If we shift the load, we could send it right off. The water isn’t deep enough here, and it’ll go ass-deep in the sand ten feet under and trap them. We won’t be able to get them out in time, not if they can’t get themselves out.” 
    Grace looked at her sister’s head, still unmoving. 
    “The only thing we can do is keep the car as still as possible. I’m going to the other side to talk to the driver, to get him not to move. Do you know who he is?” 
    “Not a clue.” Some loser? Some dealer? Samantha had been doing so well , too. 
    A man wearing a yellow t-shirt approached her, his hands out, face pale. “What can I do?” 
    “Keep everyone away. Keep them back.” Grace swiveled her head, moving between looking at Tox and her sister. Tox was doing a great job of keeping the driver calm. Over the crashing of the waves and of the crowd, she couldn’t hear his words, but the man was nodding slowly at whatever he was saying. 
    “The fire department will be here soon,” she said to the man who wanted to help. “Can you go out and direct them? Move people out of the way and make sure they can get through.” 
    The man pushed his way through the crowd, waving his hands. “Make way! Out