“Billy Jo!” Mark called, running from his Jeep. He had started driving, having an idea where she was, and had heard the crash. When she didn’t answer, he feared the worst. Her car was on its side in the steep ditch, and a wheel had fallen off. He could hear the sirens in the distance as he slid on the car, looking through the passenger window. He didn’t see any movement. One of the airbags had deployed.
“Billy Jo, it’s Mark. Answer me. Are you okay? I called for help. An ambulance is on its way. Don’t look up here! I’m going to break the glass.”
He thought he heard her groan, and he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pocketknife. He pressed the straight edge of the tool to the closed passenger window, and it shattered. Glass was everywhere. He could see her hand move, pressing at t
