which had tipped forward, and struggled to her feet, embarrassment flooding her. As she reached the other side she took the pointed end of the pry bar and made an oblong hole along the passenger side of the windshield. That done, Gil passed another wool blanket through his side of the glass to her. Leah grabbed it, getting ready to jerk it outward and away from the inert driver.
“Keep him covered,” Gil told the trooper. The trooper nodded and pulled the protective blanket over the boy’s head.
“Go ahead,” the officer yelled, and turned his head away to protect himself from flying glass.
Gil glanced up. “Count of three, Leah.”
The windshield came out cleanly with one good jerk. The glass popped outward, dancing across the hood and splintering on the ground. As swiftly as she could, Leah came around to the driver’s side and helped station the come-a-long across the mangled hood of the car. The trooper stood clear while she wrapped the heavy chain around the steering column three times and rehooked it outside the windshield. She could hear the wail of an ambulance approaching as she leaned into the driver’s side of the car, focusing her flashlight on the teenager. Leah heard him groan and put her gloved hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“Go ahead,” she called to Gil, “start tightening it. I’ll let you know when his legs are free.” The boy moaned once again and Leah divided her attention between him and the steering column. The chains grew taut, creaking and straining, and the steering column slowly yielded to the five thousand pounds of pressure being applied by the come-a-long. She automatically shielded the boy with her body, wanting to protect him in case the chain or any part of the equipment snapped and flew loose. A broken chain could be deadly and she didn’t want the driver injured any more than he was already.
“It’s moving,” she reported. “Another two inches and we’ll have it.”
The trooper had moved back to the passenger side, and now he crawled in carefully through the open window. “Here, I got the short backboard and a neck collar from your driver,” he offered.
Sweat ran down into her eyes and she blinked them, trying to get rid of the smarting sensation. “Thanks. You just steady the kid when the rest of that pressure comes off his thighs,” she directed.
“Say…you aren’t—”
Leah grinned, her face glistening with perspiration. “Yeah, I’m a woman.” She applied the surgical collar to keep the boy’s neck stabilized in case he had sustained a spinal injury.
The trooper said nothing, expertly sliding the backboard between the driver and the seat after she had fastened the collar. Leah could feel the trickle of sweat running down her rib cage and had a wild desire to scratch it. She lowered her head, watching Gil as he bore down with all his weight against the handle of the come-a-long. In one part of her mind she thanked God he was turning out to be as good a fire officer as she had thought he would be.
Just as the last of the mangled steering column came off the boy’s thighs, Leah sat up, facing the semiconscious driver. She pushed up the protective plastic visor of her helmet. The smell of gasoline and alcohol filled her senses.
The trooper flashed his light down on the boy’s legs. “He’s coming around,” was all he said.
Leah was in the process of getting out of her kneeling position when the boy screamed, flailing his arms wildly. His hand caught her solidly in the nose and she was slammed backward, tumbling out of the car head first. Leah scrambled blindly to her knees and reached out to grab the boy’s arms. Adrenaline surged through her and she shouted at the trooper to grab his right arm while she tackled the left.
“It’s okay, okay,” she breathed heavily against the boy’s ear. With her left hand, she placed her glove against his shoulder. “You’re safe, safe…you hear me…everything’s going to be all right,” she