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There were sounds in the distance then, the honking of horns, and the horn on the bus was stuck. The driver had flown through the windshield, and was lying dead on the street where he fell. And two people came running with a flashlight and shone it into the mangled car. All they could see was the blood on Bill's face and the bright red dress. His eyes were open and he appeared to be dead, and judging from the amount of her blood smeared everywhere, it was inconceivable to think that Isabelle might have survived. The two men holding the flashlight just stood and stared at them, and one of them whispered, “Oh my God …”

“Do you think they're alive?” the other man asked.

“No way, mate.” And as they looked, they saw a small stream of blood trickle from the side of her mouth.

“How are they going to get them out of there?” The one holding the flashlight couldn't even imagine how to extricate them. The roof of the car was pressed against Isabelle's back.

“It doesn't matter now, I guess. But it'll take them all night.”

They went back to check on the people lying on the floor of the bus then, and a few of the luckier ones were straggling out of the bus, with bloodstained shirts, and gashes on their heads. Some were limping, and others just looked dazed. And someone said that there were half a dozen dead bodies inside. It was one of the worst accidents the police had ever seen with a bus that size, and as they talked to witnesses who had happened by just as the bus hit the limousine, there was the sound of sirens screaming toward them, and within minutes, there were ambulances and fire trucks and paramedics everywhere. They started toward the limousine, and the two men who had glanced into it told them that the only two passengers in it appeared to be dead.

They went to check anyway, and at first glance they saw that the men were right, but as one of the paramedics reached in, and took their pulses just to be sure, they realized that Isabelle and Bill were still alive.

“Hold on!” The paramedic reaching into the car shouted back toward a fireman standing nearby. “I've got two live ones here, but just. Get the trucks over here. We've got to get them out.” He had a sense that it was too late and it would be futile by the time they got them out, but at least they had to try. The driver of the limousine had been found by then, and he was dead of a massive head injury. And there was no telling yet if either of the passengers would survive. She appeared to be losing vast quantities of blood from massive injuries, and as the paramedic felt for Bill's pulse again, it was so weak he could barely feel it. They were losing both of them fast. And as the Jaws of Life approached and they attached them to what was left of the car, there were men climbing everywhere, attaching claws, and shouting instructions to the men driving the trucks that would pull the car apart. The noise was deafening, but neither Isabelle nor Bill heard a sound.

Chapter 4

It took them nearly two hours to pull the limousine apart. They had to work carefully to keep Isabelle and Bill from being even more crushed. They had gotten IVs into both of them by then, and they had managed to get a tourniquet on a gash on Isabelle's artery in her left arm. The men who had been working on both of them were smeared with blood, and no one could believe that they were still alive. There was no way of telling that Isabelle's dress had ever been white. The entire dress had been saturated with her blood. They still had no idea who either of them were, and by the time they got them both into an ambulance, the victims from the bus had all been removed. One of the paramedics had Bill's wallet in his hand by then, and they'd been able to identify him, but they still had no idea who Isabelle was.

“She's wearing a wedding band,” one of the paramedics offered as the ambulance careened toward St. Thomas' Hospital, “must be his wife.” He radioed back to the police officers on the scene to keep an eye out for a handbag in the car, just in case.

Neither of them had regained consciousness during the entire process of being lifted out of the car, and they were both in deep comas when they were carried into the trauma unit, and were immediately attended to by separate teams. It was rapidly determined that both were in need of surgery, he for a spinal cord injury and a fractured neck, and she for a head injury, extensive internal injuries, and the severed artery to which they'd applied the tourniquet. They had to operate immediately or risk losing the arm.

“Jesus, that's an ugly one, isn't it?” one of the nurses whispered about the accident as they were wheeled into separate surgeries. “I haven't seen damage like that in a long time.”

“I can't believe they're still alive,” the other nurse commented as she scrubbed up. She had been assigned to Isabelle, who had just been assessed as the least likely to survive. They were worried about her head injury, but the greatest damage she had sustained had been to her liver, lungs, and heart, all of which had virtually been crushed.

Within moments, both were lying on operating tables in separate surgeries, with anesthesiologists working on them and bright lights shining overhead, as the members of the surgical team listened to the assessment from the trauma teams. It was difficult to decide which of the limousine's passengers was in the worse shape. They were both classified as extremely critical, and as the surgeries began, both patients' vital signs began to deteriorate at almost exactly the same rate.

As they began operating on Bill to set the many vertebrae that had been broken in his spinal column, he could feel himself sitting up, and within seconds, he found himself walking along a brightly lit path. He was aware of sounds all around him, and far ahead in the distance, there was a bright shining light. And he was surprised, when he looked around, to find Isabelle, sitting on a rock just ahead of him on the path.

“Are you okay?” She looked strange to him when he glanced at her, as though she had fallen asleep for a while. But she stood up, and waited for him to join her on the path.

“I'm fine,” she said, but she didn't look at him. As he had been at first, she was mesmerized by the bright light. “What is that?”

“I don't know,” he said, he was feeling confused, and he was aware of having looked for her, and not being able to find her for a brief time. “Where were you?”

“I was here, waiting for you. You were gone for a long time.” Her voice was very soft, and she looked very pale, but she seemed strangely calm.