Page 130 of Burning Skies
“Maybe, but you can’t help her if we don’t make it there in one piece.”
I might be driving fast, but I’m not taking unnecessary risks. “I missed her texts last night.”
“I know, man. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure Mel feels bad.”
He’s giving Melissa too much credit. She claims she “accidentally” took my phone. Yes, they look identical, but how the hell did it take her nearly an entire day to notice? I flipped the firehouse inside out looking for it.
Thank fuck Melissa isn’t on my team tonight.
When I finally got my phone back this evening and saw Honey’s texts, I almost lost my shit. A minute later, we got a callfrom the sheriff that he thought the newspaper adviser was the arson suspect, and that he might need us at the high school. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.
Because Honey works closely with that fucker every day.
Adrian Rogers must’ve gotten wind that the sheriff was considering him a suspect and taken off. I don’t know how Honey got wrangled up to go with him. Maybe he wanted a hostage.
The thought makes my blood go cold.
We’d just jumped in the fire truck when we got the update that there’d been an accident.
When we reach the stretch of road that leads to the bridge, I say a prayer this is all a mistake.
That Honey’s not in that asshole’s truck.
That she’s not currently dangling over the river.
Police have blocked off the two-lane road. Red lights flash in the dark night sky.
At first, I don’t see anything. Just the squad cars.
And when I do, my heart drops. “What the fuck?”
Adrian either lost control of his truck or deliberately tried to drive it off the bridge into the river below. It looks like the back axle got caught on one of the guardrails.
I throw the fire engine into park and race to the railing. Squinting, I try to look into the passenger window. It’s smashed out, and I can see someone inside. Honey.
She’s not moving. I don’t let myself consider the worst-case scenario here. That won’t help me extract her.
I will myself to calm the fuck down because I have to get her out. Alive. Because there’s no other option.
The cab’s smashed, the side is all scraped up. “Did it flip?”
I don’t recognize the cop on duty, but he nods. “Barely missed another car, flipped, almost went over.”
Jesus Christ.
“Can we secure the truck and drag it back up?” Coop asks.
The underside is pure rust. “I don’t think it’ll hold.” I point to the back. “Looks like there’s a trailer hitch.” We move closer to inspect it. “The damn thing’s rusted, but it’s better than nothing.”
Coop nods. “It’s a receiving end, but maybe we can get a chain through that side part.”
That’s what I was thinking. “Should be bolted to the frame. As long as the frame holds, maybe we can stabilize the truck long enough to get them out.”
Just then, something gives, and the vehicle lurches forward with a groan of twisted metal.
A collective gasp goes through the small crowd that’s gathered. “Careful, brother.” Coop pats my chest, making me realize he’s holding me back. “You looked like you were ready to dive in after her.”
The chief arrives and motions to the bank. “We’re getting a crew assembled below.”
