Then the pain set in and she began screaming.
The ticking was real; it was, in fact, the sound of the over-revved engine cooling. Hands were pulling at her, cutting through the web of her seat belt, the flaccid cloud of the air bag. As if in a dream, she felt her body moving, the drag of gravity settling in her shoulder and the pit of her stomach. Her head felt as if it had been split open; she was nauseated with pain. Then, with a crash that reverberated through the cotton in her ears, she was out of her steel cage. She felt the night air soft on her cheek, and there were voices near her, buzzing like angry insects.
Her mother… the hospital waiting room, stinking of disinfectant and despair… the sight of the wax doll in the open coffin, horrifying in its inhuman lack of animation… at the cemetery, the yellow sky reeking of coal gas and sorrow… the ground swallowing the coffin whole, like a beast closing its jaws… clods of newly turned earth damp with rain and tears…
Awareness returned to her slowly, like a fog creeping over a moor, and then, with the suddenness of a floodlight being switched on, full consciousness returned. Awakening from a dream, she knew where she was and what had happened. She felt death close by, knew that it had bypassed her by inches. Each breath felt like fire and ice, but she was alive. She wriggled her fingers and toes. All there; all working.
— Jay, she said into the face of the paramedic bent over her. -Is Jay all right?
— Who‘s Jay? a voice out of her field of vision said.
— There was no one else in your car. The paramedic had a kind face. He looked too young for this kind of work.
— Not my car, she managed. -The one in front.
— Oh, jeez, came the voice at her side.
The kind face above her split in sorrow. -Your friend… Jay. He didn‘t make it.
Tears leaked from the corners of Moira‘s eyes. -Oh, hell, she said. -Oh, damn.
They began to work on her again, and she said, — I want to sit up.
— That wouldn‘t be a good idea, ma‘am, the kind face said. -You‘re in shock and-
— I‘m sitting up, Moira said, — with or without your help.
With hands under her arms, he drew her up. She was in the street, next to her car. When she tried to look around, she winced and lights exploded behind her eyes.
— Get me to my feet, she said through gritted teeth. -I need to see him.
— Ma‘am-
— Is anything broken?
— No, ma‘am, but-
— Then get me to my goddamn feet!
There were two of them now, the second one improbably looking younger than the first.
— Do you even shave? she said as they raised her off the tarmac. Her knees nearly buckled and a wave of blackness consumed her so she had to lean on them for a minute.
— Ma‘am, you‘re white as a sheet, the kind face said. -I really think-
— Please don‘t call me ma‘am. My name is Moira.
— The cops will be here in a minute, the other one said under his breath.
She felt a clutch in the pit of her stomach.
The kind face said to her, — Moira, my name is Dave and my partner here is Earl. There are policemen who want to ask you what happened.
— It was a policeman who caused all this, Moira said.
— What? Dave said. -What did you say?
— I want to see Jay.
— Believe me, Earl said, — you really don‘t.
Moira reached down, patted her Lady Hawk. -Don‘t fuck with me, guys.
Without another word they took her down the street. It was littered with car parts and the glitter of blown-out windows and taillights. She saw a fire truck, an EMT ambulance beside the hideous wreck of the Audi. No one could have survived that crash. With each step she gained strength and confidence. She was banged up and bruised, possibly, as they said, in shock, but otherwise unscathed. Luck beyond words. She thought of the pig spirit in Bali, who must still be protecting her.
— Here come the Warm Jets, Earl said.
— He means the cops, Dave translated.
— Guys, she said, — I need some alone time with my friend and the cops won‘t let me have it.
— Neither should we, Dave said dubiously.
— I‘ll handle these bozos. Earl peeled off to intercept them.
— Steady on.
Dave gripped her more tightly as she staggered without Earl‘s countervailing support. She took another couple of deep breaths to clear her mind and steady her body. She knew she had very little time before the cops would brush aside whatever smokescreen Earl managed to concoct.
They passed the all-but-unrecognizable crumple-and-twist of the Audi. She took a deep breath, righted herself, then they were at what remained of Jay Weston. He looked more like a lump of raw meat than a human being.
— How in the world did you get him out?
— Jaws of Life. In his case, it didn‘t help. Dave helped her to squat down beside the corpse, held her up as another wave of dizziness threatened to topple her. -It might be my job for this, he said.
— Relax. My friends will keep you safe. Her eyes were roving over every inch of the wasteland that was Jay. -Jesus, nothing could survive this mashup.
— What are you looking for?
— I wish I knew, but his jacket…
Dave reached down, drew something out from underneath the wreckage. -You mean this?
Moira‘s heart rate accelerated. It was Jay‘s sapphire-blue suede jacket, miraculously unscathed except for a couple of burned patches on the sleeves. It stank of smoke and toasted cologne.
— Believe it or not, things like this happen all the time, Dave said. He had deliberately positioned himself between Moira and the two cops who now brushed by Earl, having had their fill of his medical gobbledygook. -We find things-wallets, keys, baseball caps, condoms-you wouldn‘t believe-in virtually mint condition, thrown clear of the most horrendous wrecks.
Moira was listening with only one ear as her nimble fingers rifled through the outer and inner pockets. Rolaids, two rubber bands, a paper clip, a pinch of lint. Inside pockets contained no wallet or ID of any kind, which was standard operating procedure. If he got into trouble or needed clearance he made a call. Money was somewhere on his person, burned to a crisp. But speaking of his cell, she palmed it as Dave rose to intercept the cops.
She was about to give up when she spotted the loose thread at one of the inside seams. Pulling it opened a small hole out of which she dug a twogigabyte thumb drive. Hearing the sound of heavy footfalls coming up behind her, she made the sign of the cross over Jay‘s body and, with Dave‘s strong hand gripping her elbow, stood up to face her wearying interview with the Warm Jets.