“OLLIE WATCH OUT!”
I grab his arm just in time and we move out of the way of the Camry, which hits a streetlamp. The windows are quickly whited-out by airbags and the crumpled up engine starts smoking.
Shit...
“Are you okay?”
I look to my right to see Ollie, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
I turn back to the car. A crowd has gathered, but for some reason, nobody’s helping. At least 70% of them have their phones out, filming.
My mind flashes back to that thing I read about the woman who was stabbed in an alley with dozens of people watching, none of whom called the police because they already assumed someone else had.
Oh come on...
I thrust my backpack into Ollie’s open arms and run forward to the car.
“Wait-Ryan don’t play hero, what are you thinking?”
As soon as I get the door open, at least three other people rush forward.
Oh so now you want to help...
A man in his forties sits bleeding in the driver’s side, which took the brunt of the impact. I try to dislodge him, to no avail. Ollie starts screaming my name, and I hear sirens. The people around me try to shove me out of the way like it’s a competition, to see who’ll save him first.
Ugh.
Realising we’re gettting nowhere and the wisps of smoke from the hood had turned to plumes, I climb into the back seat of the car and get to work prying the man’s arm loose from the center console. It looked like he’d reached over to protect whoever was sitting in the passenger seat. The seat is empty now, and a woman not much younger is hysterical on the ground, bleeding. I crawl into the front next to the guy and try to move the seat over a bit when people start yelling at me, pointing to the hood of the car.
Fuck...
GREENGREENGREEN
“Get outta there!”
“Stupid bitch, you gon’ die...”
“Sweetheart, just leave him, they’re on their way...”
The whole front of the car is engulfed in flames, and I finally get the guy’s hands loose. It’s oddly bent and more than likely broken. The people grabbing at him from the doorway heave him out of the car and the crowd that’s gathered around us has stepped back considerably.
This is when the car blows up, in all those movies...
I catch myself checking the windshield like I expect it to be washed in green, green paint.
For some reason, I feel like staying. The comfy leather seats are warm, and I shut my eyes before I feel hands on me.
“Ryan what the fuck are you doing?”
My eyes feel glazed as I look past Ollie’s shoulder in the doorway to see a big red firetruck, people in suits yelling and waving for people to get away.
“Alright, come on.”
He picks me up hurriedly and carries me away from there, not stopping until I’m out of my haze and slap lazily at his shoulder.
“Put me down, put me down.”
He obliges and I turn towards the wreck, seeing only steam from the fire hoses and the crowd dispersing. A metallic smell hits my nose like a train.
“Ryan what the fuck were you thinking?”
“Are...” I spin in a circle and suddenly remember where I am.
That’s a building...that’s a subway station...
I spot a caterpillar on the leaf of a nearby tree.
I’m not a caterpillar...
“No, Ryan, you’re not-she’s probably in shock...” he mutters the second half to himself.
“I’m perfectly fine,” I tell him.
“What d-“
“Are...are they okay? The people in the car?”
“I don’t know? Yeah, yeah they’re probably fine.”
“I need to know!”
I start back toward the car and he roughly grabs my wrist. I grimace, hoping he doesn’t notice. There’s no way it hurt that much, after all. He raises an eyebrow, obviously suspicious. But there are more important things.
“Ryan-“
“Let me go!”
“Ryan-Ryan listen to me!”
I stop, seeing the terror in his eyes.
“You are not going back there, you hear?”
You don’t get to...well, he’s scared.
He watches me, earnestly.
He’s scared.
“Okay?”
I nod.
“Okay.”
“Besides, it’ll probably be on the news tonight. Or on the police website, at the very least.”
“Yeah...”
I check my watch.
9:14
“Fuck...”
“What?”
“School, we’re late for school.”
He just looks at me and laughs a little.
“What? What’s funny? Ollie c’mon.”
“We’re not going to school. Are you serious? You look like shit. What just happened is gonna hit you real hard in a few minutes, and-well, to be frank, fuck school. Also I need to make sure you aren’t injured.”
He starts walking down the street and I follow him.
“I’m not injured, Ollie.”
“You don’t know that though.”
“I think I’d know.”
“Not necessarily-one time I watched this movie where a guy was kicking ass and didn’t even realise he was fatally wounded until he killed everybody.”
I stare at him. Ollie’s great, but dear God is he an idiot sometimes.
“That’s called a shitty plot device, Ollie.”
“Uh-huh.”
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