By the time Lin You had managed to pry open the still hot car door, Merrill and the others had also rushed over. They helped the young woman out of the car. It turned out that the rear door was already twisted and deformed, making it difficult to open.
The crying inside was getting louder and clearer. It seemed to be a little boy. His voice was very weak; he must have been injured too.
"Move aside!" Cheng Guang came with a tool hammer.
Bang!
The car door lock was smashed to pieces.
This was a tool that the uncle driver had found to help.
The little boy was only seven or eight years old, with messy blond hair, sitting on the car's sofa, his face full of snot and tears. His legs were covered in blood, and it was unclear how he had gotten hurt.
The group carefully lifted the woman and the little boy out of the car.
As they were lifting the young woman, she actually moaned and woke up. She weakly looked at Lin You, Chris, and the others around her.
"Phone…" she struggled to say.