Sara did not realize till she was conscious until she opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that everything hurt. It all ached, some parts worse than others. Her arm most of all. She blinked her fuzzy vision into focus and saw where it was, with a surprised breath. The pain did not seem enough to match what had happened. Her arm was under the car seat, jammed and twisted at a grotesque angle. It was horrifying. She fought back nausea and looked away.
Her eyes fell upon Josh. He was resting on top of her body, sleeping peacefully. His breathing was soft, and his form gentle. She lost everything then, for a moment it all went away. This is what he did to her. Nothing existed when she was looking at him, no pain, no life, no Peter. Just Josh. She stroked his soft brown hair with her free hand, and sighed. Then the environment returned.
She tried to pull her arm free, but stabs of fresh pain shot up her arm. She knew she had to get out of this car, that it was dangerous here. She pulled again. White hot needles jammed themselves into her elbow, and she stifled a scream. Hot rivulets of blood ran down her forearm from some cut in her wrist. The pain was overpowering, almost intoxicating. She wanted so badly just to lay there, and wait for someone to come and get her hand out. But she wasn't that kind of person.
Sara knew there was a release on the side of the seat, but she was trapped in the leg space of the back. She gently pushed Josh up onto the seat where he rolled over, still in a deep slumber. She twisted her body so she was facing her seat. She reached under with her free hand and tried to grab the release. Her fingertips brushed the edge, but it didn't budge. She tried again, stretching her arm as far as it would go, again, her fingers barely reached it. She needed a new approach.
Sara thought for a moment, then moved her free hand back to her body. She would have to use her trapped arm to push the release. She grabbed her own bicep with her free arm, and pushed her trapped arm towards the release. It slid fairly well, but halfway there it caught on a piece of metal and Sara had to stop, breathing heavily and biting her lip in wake of the waves of pain. Eventually, she got her arm over to the release. She pushed her arm up and over the lever, and pushed down. Another firework of pain, and then there was a click and then she was free.
She sat up in the seat and saw Peter. This time she was not able to hold it back. She screamed, shrill, loud, and piercing. He was still strapped into the seat, and it had left a red mark along his neck. His hair was bloody, and full of glass. His nose looked to be broken, it was twisted at an unusual angle and, like the rest of his face, smeared with blood. The break his arm had gone through was much worse than Sara's, the white of bone visible beneath ripped flesh, but it seemed as if he was beyond feeling it. Sara was not a student of medicine, but he looked very dead.
She continued to scream, not feeling anything, until she realized there was another noise in the car. She had woken Josh, and instead of wailing he was coughing, hard. And just like that, Peter left her mind. She scooped him up, all of her body and mind towards him. And at that moment, she realized just how cold it was and what the exposure could do to her child. They were miles from civilization and the rain was only increasing. She had to leave, now.
The door would not open so she kicked at it violently, robotically. It opened after a few sharp impacts. She climbed out, her delicate shoes splashing into the muddy ground. And she began to walk. All of her was for Josh, and getting him care. Not an iota of her was for her dead husband, who she had once loved and was now gone to her. Walking away into the darkness she did not notice as the gas dripping from the broken gas tank sparked, lighted, and began to burn.