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Then the chaos started.
Debris started flying like confetti paper, cars hit wrecked cars. Some went off the road. Some hit the concrete barrier. All the while I sat onmy seat in a panic.
Loki had no such problem, though.
He, and the four motorcycles with us, all pulled off the road in a matter of seconds.
Loki wasted no time in ripping his center console open, withdrawing a box of purple gloves, and donning them.
He followed that up by reaching into the backseat and grabbing what looked to be a large duffel bag and bailing out of his truck.
He sprinted across the interstate, dodging cars going seventy miles an hour and over, and sidestepped through the ruined barrier.
My phone was in my hand, and 911 was on the line before I was even aware that I’d called.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice said.
“There’s like a 90 car pile-up on I-10.Uhh, I can’t tell you a mile marker though. Oh, my God. It’s bad,” I chattered frantically into the phone.
“That’s okay, dear. We know where you are. We’ve already had five other calls. We haveunits in-route,” she said calmly.
I was anything but calm, though. In fact, I was on the opposite end of the spectrum.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered.
The phone slipped from my hand, and I laid it down on the seat of the truck before shouldering open my door and hopping out.
I got the pants zipped, but not buttoned and started walking towards the chaos.
Somehow, I’d managed to grab a pair of gloves, and I slipped them over my hands.
There were hundreds of people, just like me, staring at the chaos.
I walked across the debris laden interstate, and into a nightmare.
I found Silas first, and went straight to him.
“What do you need me to do?” I asked quietly.
He looked up from the passenger van’s side window and shook his head. “I don’t know, Channing. Just do what you can. Talk to them. Find a car and talk to them.”
Which is what I did.
I went to the first car I found that didn’t already have a person at it, and walked slowly up to the window.
The car was in shreds. It was what I guessed to be a black mid-size SUV, but resembled something smaller, and much more deadly with the sharp, jagged pieces of metal and the gas leaking out on the asphalt.
The woman in the front seat was young, possibly sixteen or seventeen. She was staring around her with a dazed expression.
“Honey?” I called. “Do you know what happened to you?”
I didn’t know what to say, so that seemed like the logical starting point.
“N-no. Where’s my mom?” She asked softly.
The girl had a cut above her right eye, and her face was covered in a white film most likely from the air bag being deployed.
“Your mom’s not here, honey. Can you look at me?” I asked.
