Emily turned in her seat as the new sergeant spoke up again at that point.
“Ok folks, please gather up your belongings and move in a single file towards the school entrance. Just follow me.” He turned and led the way.
Collins moved first. He exited the bus and stood off to the side, as folks started making their way towards the exit. Emily still had not moved from the drivers’ seat and got a good look at the people as they filed past her.
Maria, the young Hispanic girl, was the first civilian to get off the bus. She had a pronounced limp but declined assistance with a stoic expression when somebody asked her if she needed help. She took the next few steps attempting to hide her limp.
Full of pride, that one.
The young woman that had identified herself as a nurse came next. Her hands and the front of her trousers were covered in Durant’s blood. Her eyes met Emily’s for a moment. Emily felt caught in those eyes for a brief moment. They were dark and slanted, yet surprisingly large. She smiled half-heartedly, almost as if she were apologizing for not being able to save the soldier. The moment passed quickly, as the woman blinked and moved on.
What is she? Persian or maybe Asian. Emily mused as she watched the nurse take the first step down to exit the bus. She certainly had expressive eyes.
Her view of the retreating nurse was blocked by the elderly couple, as they walked past Emily next, assisting the catatonic Claire. The old man nodded to Emily in passing, and she noted that he stopped outside the bus to shake Collins’ hand and say a few words. Collins’ face was stoic as the old man spoke, but he let his head drop as soon as the old man had turned away to follow his wife and Claire.
A family of three followed next, followed closely by another couple. The family consisted of a middle-aged man and woman, and their son, who looked to be in his late teens. The father, a tall, lanky man, nodded at Emily as they made their way past.
“Good driving, Emily. Thank you.” He said. Emily responded with a small smile.
The second couple looked a little younger. Late thirties, Emily guessed.
The man sure stood out with his solid build and prosthetic hand. This little group had an air of familiarity with each other, and Emily suspected they all knew each other. The younger couple also mumbled their gratitude to Emily as they passed by.
The Collins family came next. Two adults and their kids; a daughter and a son. Emily noted that they all maintained physical contact with each other. They were all holding on to a family member in front or behind. They clumped together as they exited the bus and stepped into the parking lot, clutching at each other with a mixture of shock, fear, and fanaticism.
Emily got the distinct impression that these folks feared that the wind would pick up and carry away their loved ones if they failed to hold on to each other.
The final four people to exit the bus were all younger adults. Emily guessed that they were all between twenty and thirty years old.
First came the rich couple. Emily could see that they were well off. It was apparent from the clothes they wore. Never mind the fact that they had been picked up at what only could be described as a mansion. The husband looked unsure of what to do with himself. His face continuously showed his struggle, switching between a smile and a grimace as he looked at Emily in passing. The wife was what most men would consider stunningly beautiful, Emily figured. She was slender yet shapely, with gorgeous wavy dark hair and captivating large eyes. Those eyes were mostly downcast at the moment – focused on the hand of her husband as she was pulled along to the exit.
A slender young woman came next. She was hard to describe.
Sporty Spice. Emily recalled, referencing the British pop star from her youth. That character always wore a track suit too. A fit bird.
Emily never considered herself as fit. Emily possessed neither height nor shape. Good old British upbringing and genes. She was short and stocky. And with her mother’s genes, she was likely to get stockier as she got older.
Destined to have my arse explode. She thought as she watched the girl in the track suit exit the bus and follow the crowd towards the school. On any other day I’d hate these bitches.
The Asian man walked up last. His face rather expressionless. Emily watched as his eyes continued to scan the surroundings as if looking for threats. The deep red color of blood stained the bandage on his forearm. The man also sported a smaller scratch on his chest, visible through the torn t-shirt he was still wearing. He seemed unaware of his injuries.
“You should get that looked at.” Emily suggested.
The man looked at Emily for a moment, as if deciphering what she was saying. Emily pointed to his arm, and he glanced down at the injury as if noticing it for the first time. He stared at it for half a second. Emily guessed that he was remembering the incident that caused the injury.
“Yeah. ... I will. ... Thanks.” He added with an embarrassed smile. His smile wavered quickly, however.
“I’ll be ok.” With that, he made his way off the bus.
Emily slowly got out of her seat and with a big sigh she stepped out of the bus. Collins was still standing at the door and looked at her as she stood in front of him and stretched her back.
“I feel like I ran a marathon, mate” Emily said as she worked a kink out.
“Yeah. Me too.” Collins replied.
Emily finished her stretch and faced the soldier. “Hey. ... Sorry about Peters and Durant...”
Collins shrugged. “Thanks. Brown said it best though. He told me
