Beyond the Storm (9780758276995) by Joseph Pittman Read Free Book Online Page A

dangerously close to him. Rain continued to pour through the opening. He could feel neither the heat of any injuries nor the cool rainwater. As for what he could see, not too much. The world was askew, making it appear as though through the cracked windshield the towering corn was growing sideways, its husks like tentacles reaching out to him.
    â€œGreat, I’m stuck in a cornfield, probably going to die here among the stalks.”
    For a fleeting moment he felt a bit like the wily, supposedly brainless Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Adam too had no clue in which direction to travel or even look, and his arms were just as twisted in confusion. But he had the brains to figure his way out of his predicament surely, rattled as they were from the accident.
    Adam shook his head, trying to reduce the fuzzy haze behind his eyes. He blinked again, felt better as raindrops helped wash out any soot or specks of glass that might have slipped underneath his eyelids after the car had turned over. Darkness lessened and the overcast world came back into view, giving him a chance to review what had happened.
    Another car coming at him, while his went seemingly out of control . . . skating on a sheet of water. Impact, collision, swerving, turning, twisting, finally resting. That was a lot of violent action in a short amount of time. Still, despite the fact his car had actually flipped over—how many times he wasn’t sure—the seat belt and air bag had held him locked in position. He couldn’t imagine where and how he might have landed had he not been wearing the seat belt; might have been tossed into the cornfields and had all his stuffing knocked out of him. Second best decision he’d made when getting the rental, putting safety ahead of comfort. First thing had been agreeing to the insurance. He had a feeling the car was totaled.
    So then why wasn’t he?
    Adam shifted in his seat, wincing at the pain he felt on his side. The seat belt strap had ripped through his shirt, left him with a nasty burn. He could feel the edges of the rough cloth digging into his skin when he moved. Maybe that’s where he was bleeding from, just a slight scratch or two. Just then his eyes blurred again from more intrusive raindrops. He wiped them away, noticing one of the droplets came away as a red smear on his fingertip. He dabbed at his forehead, felt more thick wetness.
    â€œGreat, a head injury,” he said, touching it again. Still bleeding.
    There wasn’t much he could do about the wound right now, first he had to free himself before he could attend to any cuts and bruises. But was that really the smartest thing to do, trying to free himself from the confines of the twisted car? What if he had damaged his spine or had a concussion? Any sudden movement could worsen his potential injuries, leave him paralyzed or with lingering headaches.
    â€œGeez, Blackburn, you sound ridiculous. You’re fine. Get out of the damned car before the damn thing blows.”
    He supposed his rental car exploding into a huge orange fireball was a more realistic piece of paranoia than a spinal injury, a leak in the gas tank catching a stray spark. Or worse, lightning striking the stationary car and frying him to a crisp. Closed casket for him. Deep-fried corn on the cob for the guests. He laughed despite his situation, gallows humor indeed.
    Adam looked up through the window. Jagged pieces of glass still clung to its edges. He didn’t relish risking further injury by exiting through the window, even supposing his body could slip through the tight space. Instead, he reached up and tried the handle, hoping the door hadn’t suffered too much damage when the car overturned. He pushed at it with strong, determined hands and a staining face streaked with rivulets of blood. Nothing, no give.
    â€œCrap,” he said.
    He’d have to wait for someone to rescue him.
    He wiped away the blood again, smeared it on his