Aberrant: 2011 - (TBO) Just Joking

[Hero]

I grab hold of the bus and feel the quantum flow through my arms into my hands. The fender groans. I feel the strain, but I surprise myself on how little it is. Hey, I’ve never lifted a bus before.

The bus here flipped over on its side during the first few moments of the quake. Two policemen are helping people out when first appear. One cop looks at me with disgust, obviously taking me for some loon with a costume. The other cop has a look half-way between disbelief and hope. I’m more concerned with the commuters, late for jobs they no longer need to get to, who are bleeding and bruised.

I look at the first cop – he’s the senior of the two – and say,

“How can I help?”

“Stay out of the way,” he growls, helping an older lady down.

“Wait”, his partner says, “I think this is the guy we’ve been hearing about. Maybe he can do something?”

While looking at me, the senior cop responds to his partner,

“Like what? Can he fly us some help in?”

The younger cop bites his lip. He’s lifting another person from inside the bus. The bus driver is pushing the passenger up.

“I can lift the bus,” I interject. I think I might be able to lift a bus. I’ve lifted a car without any problems so how hard can a bus really be?

His snide reply is,

“I’d like to see that.”

So here I am at the front of a bus, flipping it back into an upright position. The bus teeters up. All of the people that can be easily gotten out (because of their lack of injury) of the bus are out. The younger cop has remained inside while I slowly move the bus. He’s going to help shift the people inside so they don’t suffer further harm.

I rotate the bus slowly and stop when asked. The senior cop seems truly impressed. I know I am. This is the most people I’ve helped to date. The sensation is neat.

The bus is on its wheels once more and the bus driver tries to start it up. He succeeds and he rolls it to the side of the street. It’s not like you can really take it back to the depot. The junior cop (who I can now see is named Wilkes) is grinning at me. He already came over and thanked me. He even gave me a fraternal slap on the arm and told me how good a job I have done. The senior cop (whose name tag reads Mosley) leans out of their squad car and calls me over.

“There are cars pinned under the 405 at Redondo. Do you think you can help out there? There is already Fire/Rescue there, but they say they need a crane to get the wreckage out of the way if they are going to save those people. Any aftershock could bring the whole overpass down and traffic is snarled everywhere.”

I hardly need a second to think it over.

“Sure thing.”

We all stand there for a moment before I think to ask,

“Can you give me a ride?”

“You don’t fly,” Officer Mosley asks seriously?

“I’m afraid not,” I reply. “At least not very well and I think it would be faster if you drove me.”

It also reduces the chance that I’ll crash again and hurt myself. I don’t think that confession would help the situation here.

Mosley mulls it over for a few seconds then nods.

“Hop in.”

Looking over to Wilkes, “Get in Wilkes. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to get back this way.”

Mosley is only half joking.

We were still joking at the start of the first day. It hadn’t really sunk in how isolated the Earth had made the city in just a few seconds. We would learn.