T W E N T Y F I V E
I take my eyes off the driver for too long, and it is a stupid mistake.
He pulls out a handgun and aims it right at me. He smiles a cruel smile. He has me.
He c***s back the trigger and is about to fire. I brace myself. There is nowhere to go. I’m dead.
Over the driver’s shoulder, a Crazy jumps out of a manhole, aims an RPG, and fires. The missile sails through the air, coming right for us.
An explosion rocks our world. The noise is deafening, and I am thrown up into the air, smashing my head, as I feel the tremendous impact of the heat. Then my world turns sideways, as the bus crashes onto its side and skids.
Because I’m the only one standing, the only one not buckled or chained down, I’m the only one who goes flying across the bus. I go through an open window,
