Camp Antler Point

Chapter 15

Metal crashed against wood. A symphony of shattering glass welcomed the rain through the broken windshield.

Amy eased her arms away from her face with a wince. They'd shielded her from the worst of the impact, earning them a myriad of scratches and a deep purple bruise from the airbag. Her ears rang as she looked to see how badly the boys had been hurt.

Carson's breath came in ragged gasps as he stared ahead with wide eyes. Blood ran from a gash in his forehead, a crimson slick on his deathly pale face. Much of their food stash had broken over him in an almost comical display. Pulverized Doritos crusted the backseat, and the remains of granola bars crunched under his trembling feet. He definitely looked like he'd seen better days, but he seemed more emotionally hurt than physically.

Lucas was another matter.

He let out a noise that was half-sob, half-scream, and one hundred percent fear as he attempted to move his arm. Bright red, swollen, and covered in a myriad of cuts, his injury looked almost as angry as the moose that had charged them.

On top of injuring his arm, the airbag had hit him so hard he sported a black eye. Despite being nearly swollen shut, tears of pain still leaked out.

Who knew what other injuries lay out of sight?

Grunts and labored breathing revealed danger that still lurked nearby, hidden by the storm.

"We need to get that thing to leave," Amy said.

"No shit," Lucas hissed through gritted teeth. "Got any other brilliant ideas like maybe, I don't know, I need to get my ass to a fucking doctor?"

"I knew I shouldn't have let her go alone," Carson muttered to himself. He was looking toward Amy, but his eyes were unfocused. Lost. "She died because of me, and now that moose is going to kill me, too."

"It's not going to kill anybody."

Lucas let out a loud, broken laugh. "Right, and I'm not dealing with a busted arm. Face it, we're screwed!"

This wasn't working.

If her father and been there, he would have known exactly what to do. He'd helped kids deal with everything from allergic reactions to nearly getting bitten by snakes, and he had always known how to get everyone to keep their cool, even himself. When Amy's blood had soaked through her socks after a particularly nasty fall, only his gentle touch and soothing voice had helped her calm down enough to let the nurse patch her up.

He'd been scared, too. Terrified, actually. Yet, even when she'd hurt herself so badly she still had a ridge of scar tissue rising from her knee over a decade later, he'd gotten them both through it.

She just had to channel him a bit.

"Can you do me a favor and take a deep breath?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "What good will that do?"

"It won't hurt you. Just take it in, and then let it out." As she demonstrated what she wanted him to do, her heart eased its hammering and some of the tension left her shoulders.

Carson's breath whistled out of his nose as his chest rose and fell in a gradually steadier rhythm.

"Dude, you sound like a teapot," Lucas said.

"You are a teapot," Carson responded.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Lucas chuckled despite himself, wincing as his laughter jostled his arm.