Free Charmed (Second Sight) by Hazel Hunter Page B

bounced across a drainage ditch at the edge of the pavement. Only a dozen yards ahead of them, Daniel’s car was lurching into the trees.
    No way. The trees are too dense. Stop now!
    But it was too late.
    The road block had been set up there for this very reason. There was no way around.  
    Daniel’s car side-swiped one tree, plowed through a dense thicket of tall bushes, and then the left side of the car dipped dramatically. But Daniel wasn’t through. The car righted itself, plunged on and then swerved left. He was trying to get back to the road. But just as he turned, the right side of the car jumped upward, tilting at a crazy angle.
    A boulder? A root?  
    Whatever it was, it sent the car veering crazily to the left and straight into a tree.
    “No!” Isabelle screamed.  
    The crunch of metal and the shattering of glass filled the air and reverberated in Mac’s chest. Quickly, he slammed on the brakes, bringing them to almost a complete stop.
    Faster than he’d realized Isabelle could move, she was out the door.

    •••••

    Though she tripped, Isabelle didn’t fall. The high heels made the going tough but she rushed toward the car. The headlights from the SUV shone over the uneven ground and she heard a popping and hissing sound as steam started to rise from the crumpled hood of Daniel’s car.
    “Isabelle!” Mac called from behind.
    But she couldn’t stop. She all but crashed into the back of the car, tail lights still blaring red.
    Did he have the baby?
    Was Little Gavin all right?
    Isabelle scampered to the left, around the tail light. Daniel was slumped over the wheel but she ignored him and threw open the door to the back seat.
    “Oh my god,” she exclaimed.
    Mac was instantly behind her.  
    “Is he–”
    Isabelle knelt on the seat next to the car carrier.  
    “Gavin?” she said. In the semi-dark she could barely make him out but a sudden cry erupted from him. “Gavin!” she said, reaching for him.
    “ Don’t move him,” Mac said, holding her back at the shoulder. “Leave him in the carrier. He might have an injury.” She stopped mid-reach, his little wail almost more than she could take. “Unlock the seat belt,” Mac said.  
    The policemen had arrived and were opening the front doors. A flashlight flitted across Little Gavin. He was red-faced and his mouth was open but that was all she could see. He was still wrapped in the blanket from the hospital. She reached over the carrier and found the seat belt but pressing on the release wasn’t working.  
    “It’s jammed,” she said, grunting. “It won’t come loose.”
    “Here,” Mac said, hand on her back. “Let me.”
    Reluctantly, she backed out.
    In moments, Mac had the carrier free. Gingerly, he backed out, carrier handle in one hand, trying not to jostle it.
    “Get some paramedics,” he said to the officer at the driver’s door.
    “Already on their way,” the officer said.
    “Get away from the wreck,” Mac said.
    She felt Mac’s hand under her arm.
    “Is he okay?” she asked, trying to get a look at the baby.
    “I don’t know,” Mac said. “Luckily, the car wasn’t going fast by the time he hit the tree. If the car seat did it’s job, he’s probably fine.”
    Maybe the fact that he was crying was good , Isabelle hoped.
    Mac opened the back door of the police car, gently set the carrier down on the seat, and stood aside. Little Gavin continued to cry and, as much as it pained Isabelle to hear his piteous mewling, it at least meant that his lungs were all right. There was a siren in the distance and, under the car’s dome light, Isabelle had her first chance to really see the baby. He was so tiny! The blanket had been hiked up between his legs to allow the shoulder restraints to be clipped in near his heels. The thick pads near his head dwarfed him, as did the padded straps. But everything looked snug and tight.
    “Gavin,” she cooed, lightly running the backs of her gloved fingers across his forehead.