Page 5 of Blizzard Babies (Alaska Blizzard #6.5)
Laurel
It seems like forever as we go over the side of the highway and start flying down a hill at top speed.
In reality, it was probably only five or six seconds, but it feels like an eternity until the SUV comes to a stop in a snowbank.
The SUV is intact and no airbags deployed, so it takes another few seconds for it to sink in that we’re okay. At least, it seems like it.
“Everyone okay?” Charli asks in a soft, shaky voice.
“I think so.” Sara twists in her seat. “You guys okay back there?”
“I’m okay.” Whitney looks at me. “Laurel?”
I unconsciously rub my hand over my stomach. “I think so.”
“God, that was scary.” Charli lets out a breath.
“It all happened so fast,” Sara adds.
“You kept us straight,” Whitney whispers.”
“I tried,” Charli says. “Now I guess we need to assess the damage.”
We all look around, but most of what I see is snow. Lots and lots of snow, accumulated over the last couple of months as well as what’s currently coming down. “I think we’re down pretty far,” I say after a moment.
Charli unlocks the doors but when I try to open mine, I can’t budge it.
“Shit.” Charli seems to be having the same problem. “We’re trapped by snow.”
“If you roll down the windows, we may be able to get out,” Sara says.
“Wait!” I yell out. “If we all roll down our windows, the car’s going to fill with snow and then we’re going to be cold and wet.”
“Right.” Charli unbuckles her seat belt. “Let me do mine. Maybe I can ease out the window and see where we are.”
“Be careful,” Sara says.
“No cell service,” Whitney mutters, looking at her phone.
“Me either,” I say after I dig out my phone.
“If I can get my head out, maybe I can figure out where we are,” Charli says, slowly inching down her window. The snow isn’t packed very tightly, and it flutters through the opening and onto Charli and the seat as she tries to minimize how much gets in.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Whitney says, shivering as frigid air filters through the SUV. “Maybe you shouldn’t go out there, Charli.”
“If I don’t, and our phones don’t have service, we might be here until the storm is over,” she replies. “And that could be much worse.”
A faint pain in my abdomen gives me pause, and I take a deep breath, trying to focus on our situation instead of the growing discomfort.
I had some weird twinges all morning, but Braxton-Hicks contractions are normal at this point in pregnancy, so I didn’t give them much thought since I had them when I was pregnant with Matthew too.
Now, however, I’m trying to ignore the fact that I’ve had several of these odd, mildly painful contractions in the last hour or so.
Charli is almost through the window when she disappears into a mass of snow, letting out a tiny shriek as she falls.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper, quickly unbuckling my seat belt even though I’m not sure how I can help in my condition.
“I’m okay!” We can hear her, but she hasn’t resurfaced yet.
“Charli!” Whitney is leaning forward anxiously.
“I’m okay.” Charli straightens up, and if our situation wasn’t so precarious, I would laugh.
She’s covered in snow, even on her face, and she shakes her head.
“The good news is we’re on flat, solid ground.
The bad news is that we’re way, way down the hill from the highway.
And I don’t see anything but trees and snow in any direction. ”
“You should get back in the car,” I say firmly. “It’s way too cold out there and now you’re wet.”
“My coat’s waterproof,” she says. “I was thinking I should try to walk to the road.”
“No!” The three of us in the car shout in unison.
“Get back in the car,” Whitney says firmly. “You’re pregnant, Charli. Being cold and wet can’t be good for you.”
“Hey, thanks to the adrenaline, this is the first time in weeks I’m not nauseated!” she quips, swatting at the snow and making enough room for her to open the door of the SUV.
She slides behind the wheel and rolls the window back up.
“Now what?” she asks.
“I guess we wait,” I say, leaning back in the seat. “The car that spun out had to have seen us go over the side. I’m sure they’re calling for help.”
“Let’s hope so.” Whitney is still trying to get service on her phone.
“We’re good for now,” Charli says. “There’s plenty of gas, so we can run the heat, and there are blankets in the back if we need them.”
“The problem is going to be when I have to pee,” I mutter. “Which is going to be really soon.”
“The heat from the SUV is probably going to melt some of the snow immediately around us,” Sara says. “So that should make some room for you to get out and do what you have to do.”
“You want me to drop my pants in this weather?” I make a face. “Whose idea was it to move to fucking Alaska?”
“Probably Gage’s?” Whitney suggests, chuckling.
“The good news is my husband is extremely overprotective,” I say. “He’s going to worry when I don’t show up in the next half hour. Then he’s going to start calling, and when it goes straight to voicemail, he’s going to call in the cavalry.”
“I guess that’s good news,” Sara says.
“Gage is—” I cut off abruptly as a sharp pain hits me. “ Fuck .”
“What’s wrong?” Sara asks quickly.
“Laurel?” Charli is looking at me with concern.
“I’ve been getting these Braxton-Hicks contractions all day,” I say. “But nothing like this. That one was a lot more… intense.”
“One of us needs to go find help,” Charli says firmly. “It should probably be me since I’m the least pregnant.”
“No.” Whitney shakes her head. “We have to stay together. In the car. Period. It’s bad out there and getting worse by the minute. We might have to turn the car off for a while to conserve gas because I think it’s going to be a long day and night if no one finds us.”
“Gage will be looking for us,” I say firmly.
“Yes, but how will he know where to look?” Sara asks.
“And if the storm coming through is as bad as they say, he may not be able to search, no matter how much he wants to,” Charli adds.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem,” I whisper, dread filling me.
“How come?” Sara asks suspiciously.
All eyes turn to me, and I bite my lip.
“Because I think my water just broke.”