"Possibly," Damon replied, running his thumb over the palm of Elena's hand, trying to calm her enough to slow down her racing heart.
"Although I have no idea how long we'll be able to stay on it, even if I can get the car out. Stay here."
The last words were a command. Damon let go of Elena's hand, and forced his weight against the driver's side door. It creaked, and he could hear the metal warp, swearing under his breath as it did. The car would be a small fortune to repair, even if they could get it back on the road. It was nearly impossible to see through the snow, but after digging down toward the tire wells, Damon knew it was no use. He got back into the car and pulled the door shut behind him.
"I can pull the car out, but she's not going anywhere. The two front tires are blown, and there's not even one spare, never mind two."