Chapter 2 - The Shattered Glass
"Hey!" I shouted, slamming my palm flat against the rear window.
"Hey! Can you hear me?!"
The boy didn't move.
His eyes remained half-lidded, unfocused, staring blankly at the plastic door panel.
I grabbed the chrome door handle and pulled with all my strength.
Locked.
I ran to the driver's door. Locked.
I threw my weight against the sliding rear doors. Locked tight.
I spun around, scanning the wide parking lot.
No frantic parents were running out of the grocery store with shopping carts. No drivers were walking toward the vehicle. No one was in sight.
My heart began to hammer violently against my ribs.
A sealed car in July can reach over one hundred and thirty degrees in less than twenty minutes. A child trapped in that heat could have only minutes left before organ failure set in.
"Hang on!" I screamed through the glass.
I sprinted back to my car, pulled the heavy steel tire wrench from my trunk, and ran back to the minivan.
I raised the heavy iron wrench above my shoulder, stepped back, and struck the glass.
CRACK.
A spiderweb of fractures spread across the tinted window.
I struck it again with everything I had.
CRACK.
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On the third hit, the glass finally gave way, exploding inward in a shower of tiny, tempered shards.
A wall of suffocating, scorching air hit my face—like opening the door of a commercial oven.
