Kirk blinked open his eyes. His head hurt…like hell. He lifted a hand and felt his forehead. Wet. Blood. Still it didn’t seem so bad. He lay there for a moment, trying to get his bearings, listening to the moans and weeping of his fellow passengers.
God.
His back was twisted and he lay against the cracked window that had been on the opposite side when the bus was upright. He didn’t know what happened to the woman who had been sitting in that seat next to the window.
Calm, Kirk. See if you can move all your limbs.
He didn’t seem to be trapped under anything. He straightened his back and moved his legs. Everything seemed to work. His arms, too. Blowing out a breath, he struggled to sit up. Broken glass and twisted metal were everywhere. Rain poured inside the wrecked bus from the broken
