22: No Real Choice

Alex sprinted towards the wrecked school bus, dropping to his knees beside the small body of a badly mangled child nearest him.

‘Forget her,’ Gini instructed, ‘it’s too late.’

Alex ripped his shirt off—popping the buttons—and slung it over the small girl’s still form. Before Gini could reach him he ran for the back of the bus. The rear exit door, standing a good several feet off the road, was hanging loosely from its hinges—probably the source of the girl lying in the street. She likely flew out the back when the bus toppled, smashed her head against the roadway. The exit door was dangling, so Alex scampered over it and into the bus.

“Check the street and the other vehicles!” Alex shouted as he began scouring the bus. No one was moving yet, although the sound of agonized moans echoed throughout the bus. The space seemed unreal with seats projecting sideways towards the only available surface, the shattered windows. The whole vehicle shifted with each step he took, revealing it was perched precariously on the vehicle wedged under it.

“Cate, you check the others, Alex needs my vision,” Gini said, indicating where Cate should go before power lifting herself into the bus. She found Alex crouched over one young boy, probably around twelve. “He’s got a head injury and a broken arm. Don’t jostle the left arm, but put your fingers, here, here and here,” she instructed. He did, and applied a gentle burst of energy when she instructed him to. The little boy’s eyes shot open and he glanced at Alex with a look of shock and fear.

“You’re OK,” Alex assured him. “You’ve had a head injury and your arm appears to be broken. Don’t move it until someone can check you out.” With that Alex got up and moved to the next victim, Gini already having done a quick evaluation of the people nearest them.

“That one,” she instructed, pointing at two boys as she struggled to staunch one girl’s bleeding with her shirt. “The redhead has a pole in him but appears stable. Wrap something around him to prevent him from bleeding and check the boy in the checkered shirt.”

“You’ll be OK for a few minutes,” Alex told the tousle-headed boy. “I know it hurts, but don’t move and don’t try to move the bar. We’ll get back to you shortly. You,” he told the other boy. “You seem fine. Climb out the back so we won’t have to check you again. If anyone asks, we’re inside with multiple injured.” The boy glanced doubtfully at his friend and then carefully climbed off the suspended seat, dropped to the floor and gingerly walked to the exit.

“OK, I got this one,” Gini told him as she moved away from the girl who’s arterial bleed she’d just stemmed. “Shift the one boy aside so I can check the other one under him.”

Alex did so, lifting the small crying child to reveal another boy with a badly mangled left arm, though he made much less noise than the barely injured child. “See if you can deaden the nerves in his arm,” Gini suggested. “Try the nerves here, and then here.” Alex noted Gini, though still bothered by his aura, worked to circumvent it, glancing away as much as possible, squinting and looking slightly askew when he was in the way.

The boy, who Alex assumed was in shock, suddenly looked more focused. “Uh, that feels better,” he said, reaching for his arm.

“Don’t touch it,” Gini warned, already scanning the other kids farther down rather than meeting the kid’s eyes with Alex in the way. “You’ll feel better for a little while, but don’t move or you’ll make the break worse. Hopefully the pain will be manageable until the ambulance arrives and can give you something for it.”

They moved from one injury to another, shattered glass crackling under their feet, sending anyone not too badly injured to the back door (the front door impossible to reach far over the heads of the young children. Passers-by helped lower the healthier kids to the ground. Gini and Alex ignored the dead and tied torn strips of cloth (torn from the remains of Alex’s t-shirt) to the seats near the wounded to flag who needed assistance when the medics finally arrived. When they’d covered the entire bus they exited out the shattered front window, crawling through the glass, smearing their own blood in the process, but they didn’t stop to consider those miniscule injuries when they compared them to those around them.

Outside, they found people clustered around the few kids on the street. Gini had Alex treat the few he could after she pushed back those not helping. After they left each one, they’d explain what the EMTs would need to know to those nearby and then move on. Alex and Gini also relayed the information on each child to Felicity, who was on the phone to the 911 dispatchers, describing each injury despite the fact she was nowhere near the scene of the accident.

Not seeing anyone else needing immediate attention, Alex collapsed, bracing himself against the bottom of the bus leaving Gini and Cate moving among the wounded, making sure they were OK. If not, they knew where to find him. Alex was exhausted. It was bad enough his BCM had dropped so precipitously after its long peak, but the efforts to help the people in the park and then trying to escape and rescuing all the injured not only wiped him out, it left him hanging on by a thread. He lay back attempting to not only slow his breathing, but also hoping to get his heart to beat in a more regular pattern—hopefully something fast enough to allow him to continue breathing. Still, while he realized it was dangerous and he was taking a huge risk, seeing the scattered wounded he felt it was worth the trade off, especially since he knew he didn’t have long anyway. Of course, he didn’t mention this to either Gini or Cate.

While looking for additional wounded, Gini noticed the camerawoman standing at the edge of the surrounding onlookers, snapping picture after picture. Without thinking, Gini stalked towards her with a fierce scowl. Instead of noting her dour expression, the woman continued snapping pictures. When Gini reached her, she snapped the camera from her hands and yanked it off her neck, hurting her in the process.

“You can’t do that!” she cried as Gini smashed the camera against the ground. The woman, Alice according to her name tag, started to reach for it but Gini growled at her, causing her to back up, her anger finally clear to her. Gini picked up the camera, found the compartment for the camera card and removed it. She started to throw it away but then thought better of it.

“You can’t keep that. I need it.” When Gini glared at her, she figured her approach wasn’t working. “It’s legally mine, damn it.”

“Are you kidding?” Gini screamed at her. “You endangered us all chasing us when we told you we had no interest in speaking to you. You caused this damn accident and you aren’t even trying to help. While we’re trying to save lives, you’re lurking here in safety snapping pictures you can use to advance your career!

“As for this,” she said, indicating the SD card, “I’m going to keep it. In case you cause trouble, or threaten me in any way, I’ll selectively release it, proving how while the people you injured bled out, you cavalierly photographed them rather than helping. That should make for some interesting headlines, don’t you think?”

Alice had no response, paling visibly at the idea.

“Where’s your pal with the video camera?” Gini snarled.

“It was damaged,” she claimed in a halting voice. “Wanda left it in the van while she called 911. Then she went to check on Adriana.”

“Adriana was the reporter killed when the bus fell on her?” Gini asked without much sympathy.

“Yeah, Adriana Moss. She was our ticket into the big time,” Alice said, her eyes glazing with images of the life slipping from their grasp. “The network wouldn’t give us much exposure, so we were trying to get something to grab their attention.”

“Justify it however you want, but I think you missed that exit a long time ago,” Gini told her over her shoulder as she walked off. “Frankly, the world didn’t miss anything, as you’re a horrid human being that doesn’t deserve recognition of any kind.”

Gini found Wanda in her van, sobbing hysterically. Gini stopped and regarded her, and Wanda tried her best to stop crying long enough to speak.

“The camera is there on the ... ground,” she said, pointing it out to her. “I threw it down in disgust ... after I saw what we did. We are horrid people!” she declared, fighting back hiccups. “I can’t believe ... Alice is taking pictures ... of the carnage we caused.”

“You can’t be too hard on her,” Gini said, sounding surprisingly kind after her earlier outburst as she reached down and searched the video camera. “I suspect she’s in shock. People do strange things when they go into shock, often doing what they’re most comfortable with, performing out of rote.”

“The ... the card is on the other ... end,” Wanda told her, still trying to hold back the tears streaming down her face.

Gini found it, sticking it too into her pocket. “Take this as a warning. Not only did your stupid actions seriously injure and kill people, but it will also prevent you from ever reaching heaven. You need to resolve your guilt through hard work helping people, and then you stand a chance.” With that, Gini turned and walked away.

While she was busy, Cate checked on Alex. Seeing he wasn’t doing well, she didn’t worry. She expected this, and now that there was no way to avoid a scene with the police, there wasn’t any reason trying to avoid it. “How are you doing, Alex?”

“I’ll ... I’ll manage,” he answered simply, struggling not to wince as he spoke. The last thing he needed was to worry his sister. “I can hardly ... complain when ... so many are doing so much ... worse.”

“Well, take it easy. The EMTs will be here soon. I can hear their siren now. I’m going to check everyone once more,” she said, caressing his face with a look of love, dedication and sympathy. She leaned forward, kissed him gently, and then got up, moving away as Alex pulled himself up, resting on his knees as he regarded the scene around him. Alex knew he’d been playing a dangerous game. As Ahmed had lectured him, calling upon more and more BCM was hurting him, and calling on it time and again in a short time span to make up for weakness and to help people was only hastening the inevitable.

Cate walked towards the back of the bus, preparing to climb inside to minister to those remaining there when she noticed someone’s Hello Kitty backpack. “Hello Kitty doesn’t look quite so chipper,” she commented to herself, noting the scattered bloodstains across its face as she reached under the bus to retrieve it. “Some little girl will feel better holdi—”

Cate’s solitary soliloquy was interrupted by a straining whine of slowly twisting metal. Everyone turned at the noise, not knowing what it was as its high pitched squeal drowned out the moaning and crying of the injured. Glancing up, Cate grabbed the backpack and scrambled back out. She was on her knees, resting her hand against the bottom of the bus standing up when there was a popping sound of metal snapping that cut through the anticipatory silence that had descended on the area. As Cate stumbled back, the already loose rear axle broke free and tumbled in a twisting motion, smashing Cate in the head—sending her sprawling backwards.

“CATE!” Alex screamed, scrambling to his feet, his own exhaustion forgotten. He rushed to her side, skidding to a stop on his knees, shoving the heavy axle aside like it was nothing and cradled her against him. But she was unresponsive, bleeding from her head with a gash on her arm. “Gini!” Alex called, casting about for his dedicated Seer, his eyes, the only one who could tell him what he needed to do.

“I’m here, Alex,” she said, running the rest of the distance. She knelt beside him and examined Cate’s head. “She’s pretty bad, Alex. It’s going to take a lot to help her. Are you up for it?”