Page 44 of Mastered By Bliss

He groans again, then whispers, “Find phone.Call.”

My phone.It must be in here somewhere.It flew out of my hand when the car rammed us.I look up—down, I guess—at the ceiling.It’s next to the visor.I reach down and grab it.The screen is cracked, and it doesn’t light up.Please work.I tap the screen.Nothing.I press the buttons on the side.More nothing.

Broken phone.Where’s Brody’s?

“Is your phone in your pocket?”I ask him.

He doesn’t respond.I check for his pulse in his neck.It’s there, thrumming away.I think he passed out again.

“I’m going to try your pocket, okay?”I feel around on the side of his closest pocket.Nothing.

Before I can unbuckle my seatbelt and go for his other pocket, something rings in the distance.His phone—it must have flown out of the car somehow.One of the backseat windows is busted and it could’ve gone through there.Finally hopeful about something, I brace one hand on the car’s ceiling and unbuckle myself with the other.

The seatbelt gives.I tumble awkwardly onto my head and shoulders.Hurts.But I don’t have time to worry about that—I need to get out of the car, find Brody’s phone.

It takes far too much effort, but my door opens with a creaky groan.I do a weird half-somersault and crawl out.On all fours, my hands and knees sink into leaves and mud.It looks like we landed next to a creek.

My neck is killing me, my arm aching.I stumble upright and stagger toward the sound of the ringing phone.Shouldn’t it be lighting up?Where the hell is it?

Just when I think I’m getting close, the ringing stops.

“Damn it all.Fuck.Stupid fucking phone, why did you have to?—”

It starts ringing again.Thank God.My eyes fill with tears.I don’t want to do this.I can’t do this.

But I have to.

It isn’t until I’m ten feet away from it, that I realize where the sound is coming from.That phone isn’t nestled in the dirt somewhere.

It’s inside the car that rammed into ours.

14

Leah

I can’t decide.Go to the other car and get the phone, or search for Brody’s?

The other phone.At least I have a clue where it could be.And if the guy in the car isn’t answering it, that means he isn’t awake, right?

It seems a pretty fair assumption.I hope I’m making the right choice.I move as quietly as possible.I can’t go too slowly, though.If the phone stops ringing, I’ll have to hunt for it.I don’t want to do that.Too risky.

The car is right side up, a single headlight pointed directly at the cliff face, one light flickering.The other headlight is out, broken.The top of the car is smashed down.

I reach the rear bumper and take a deep breath, inhaling damp air with the scent of sagebrush.

Be strong.I have to do this.Brody’s counting on me.I don’t know what’s wrong with him or how else to help him.The sooner I can call for rescue, the better.

The phone stops ringing.I hold my breath.Please, whoever it is—please call again.

I try to see through the rear window, but all I can make out are dark, amorphous shadows.Is the driver still in the car?

The phone rings again.Now’s my chance.I move to the passenger side and look in the back seat.Nothing there.Shit.I don’t want to go near the driver.

I don’t have a choice, though.I move to the front seat.A man in a baseball cap is slumped over the wheel, unmoving.He faces me, his dead eyes open but unseeing.Blood trickles from his nose.My stomach heaves.I look away, then force myself to look again.I don’t recognize him.His hat is askew, his bearded chin illuminated by a soft light shining from the floorboards—the ringing phone.

The door opens easily—it wasn’t even latched.I dart my hand in, grab the phone, and scurry away from the car.

The caller ID readsDad.The driver—that’s someone’s son.Even if he’s a bad person, he has a parent who is looking for them.

---