Knocks over an 18-wheeler

An eighteen wheeled logging truck was coming down the road. The front had been reinforced with metal braces. It was coming from the direction of the water, only four hundred or so feet of road between the waterline they'd started near and the community center, but it was going full speed, straight for the side door.

"Fuck me." Jasper's voice.

Even if Crystalclear saw-

"Hit it!" I called out.

"What? Are you insane?"

"Hit it! The others are waiting on the other side of the door!"

I scrambled to get in position.

"Trusting you," Jasper said, and the bus picked up speed.

You shouldn't, I thought.

I had one partial glimpse of the inside of the truck.

Multiple costumes.

And then the impact.

***

There was no way to process the series of collisions that followed me hurling myself down between the logging truck and the school bus. My focus was on deflecting the impact, clawing at the logging truck with everything I had to try to put it off course, before the bus made contact and hopefully moved it further. As the two vehicles came together, I extended my whole body, trying to push them apart in a way that would keep the collision from being the head-on sort that might kill Jasper.

In no particular order, the school bus hit the logging truck, the logging truck hit the school bus and the wall, and I, my forcefields down, hit the ground rolling.

I came to a stop and lay where I was, face down. I felt the sting of the scrapes where I'd come into contact with the road, and waited for the real pain to start. I wanted to know where the real damage was before I moved the wrong part and made it worse. My ears rang from the sharp noises and impacts. Playing dead helped, too, because the villains were rousing, opening the door of the truck cab, glass tinkling down to the street below.

***

Condescending, caring more about themselves, feigning concern or consideration. They just wanted to get on with their day. Even the ones that did care lost patience sometimes. Stubborn, aggressive people like me made it easy to lose patience.

I made myself be calm. I exhaled slowly, and the exhalation came out as a shudder. It wasn't because I was hurt, but because the memories were close to the surface.

Blindside eased me onto my back, then I felt them touch my gun.

My eyes snapped open. My arm lashed out, one swing, mindful that they were probably just a fragile human being.

- Daybreak 1.3-1.4