Spinning Out

Chapter 30

ELIJAH

"Jaina!" I shout.

I can't get off the freeway or even out of the lane of traffic. Her heavy, erratic breathing only calms when her eyes relax and her head slumps.

"Jaina!" I repeat, reaching over to shake her gently. I think she's had a panic attack and passed out. I'm trapped, unable to help her and forced to slowly pass the mangled mess of cars. It couldn't have happened more than ten minutes ago and yet the police, fireman and highway patrol are standing around, helpless to do anything besides traffic control as the fireman use the Jaws of Life to begin cutting away at the metal of what used to be cars.

My stomach knots and I feel hot. I hope there is a time I can pass an accident without feeling the anxiety and rush of adrenaline I'm feeling now. Life is so fragile and each moment we see up close what could have been, we are reminded of our own mortality.

I keep inching forward with the traffic. It's as slow crawl to a space where we might both feel better. Seeing her slumped in the seat is reminding me off all the close calls and minor fender benders I've been a part of in the racing scene. I once watch a man unable to brake in time, slam right into a brick wall. This chaotic flashing of emergency vehicle lights sends a reel of accidents in my head. At the end of the horrific scene, the freeway opens back up and we can get moving. I consider shouting to one of the officers that I need help for Jaina, but looking at the stretchers and rushing EMTs, I know she isn't in as much trouble as any of them. I roll down her window, my plan is to exit the freeway ASAP in case this is something more serious than her passing out. The cool night air whipping through the window wakes her.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly. Her back straightens and she reaches for the door to steady herself. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I say. "Are you ok? Do you want me to pull over?'

I have my blinker on and I'm crossing lanes as quickly as I can. Jaina takes a second to look at our surroundings.

"No, please let's go home," she pleads. "I don't feel good." She is pale and a sheen of sweat glistens on her forehead and upper lip. I feel slightly calmer now that she is awake.

"Whatever you need," I tell her.

Car speed past us, narrowly missing our car as they zoom to get back up to speed. I can hear the loud exhaust of a modified car as it passes us speeding on our right. Behind them, three more cars swerve in and out of traffic to stay together. They are on their way to the next stop. Jaina's eyes are wide but she never looks behind us or in the side mirror. She grips the seat beneath her and breathes methodically as if she's trying to steady her racing heart.

I notice one last car edging around the traffic to race to the next location. It's the black Honda. He rides up close to our bumper and at the last minute, swerves to the right and into a faster lane. Once he passes us, I say, "That's the last one."

Jaina visibly relaxes. She still breathes rhythmically, but her hands no longer grip the seat. She closes her eyes and leans her head back. I keep my attention on the road but chance glances at her. Tears have streaked her face even though she isn't outwardly making a sound. It must have been so hard to see an accident like that after what she's been through. I reach for her, resting my hand on top of hers. I hate this stupid cast. It stops me from being able to feel her entirely.

Her eyes dip down to where our hands meet. She keeps them there for a while. My attention moves back to the road. The cars we had passed had been tangled up pretty good. One of them was at the take-over just moments ago. I would be very surprised if anyone in either of the cars made it out alive.

"How did you hurt your hand?" she asks. Her fingers are now tracing the cast.

I think about it for a moment. "Driving fast," I tell her. There is more to the story, but I don't think now is the time to tell her.