Fascinating Villains

{2} - Walkie-talkie

A worryingly loud engine noise resonates from afar. I hear the piercing screeching of tires before I even see the city bus zooming down the narrow street past me. It's going way too... As I begin to think the word "fast", the vehicle abruptly spins, suddenly slipping against the asphalt on an angle. In an instant, I watch the machine smash through the large bay windows of Dark Crumbs Coffee, violently tearing apart into the coffee shop's prim facade and entering it. The back of the bus whirls around, placing the whole vehicle in an horizontal position and scratching the brick wall of a building with an ear-splitting screech of distorted metal. A medium-sized explosion resonates from inside the ravaged cafe, propelling the bus backwards and upwards for a split second. The metallic container raises, its roof slamming into the storefront behind it and rapidly falling back onto the pavement, bouncing and tilting to the right prior to completely landing on its side. Its course is complete, in a concert of screams, surrounded by a cloud of thick smoke and probably enough broken glass to craft the stained glass windows of a church.

I can feel my heart throbbing through my eardrums and my throat is dry. I was holding my breath during the few seconds this accident needed to happen. I cannot see the full extent of the damage because of the overwhelming mist that floats around it, however, I do not need to witness it to make an educated guess that what lies beyond it is nothing less than nightmare fuel. My hands are barely holding the newspaper anymore, I set it down on the bench and reach for my walkie-talkie, unstrapping it from my belt. Even when I am on a break from duty, I never separate myself from it. The microscopic red light bulb on top of the black plastic case of the contraption blinks before I can press on the emergency key. I swiftly turn the volume up, and Dorothy's voice escapes the speaker, slightly muffled and crackling.

"This is Dorothy Chapman speaking. A bus accident just occurred near the corner of Harbor and Nightingale, the vehicle crashed into a nearby coffee shop. I need at least three technicians over there ASAP. Over."

Dorothy is the chief of Gotham General Hospital's ambulance service, therefore she is my lowest ranking - and definitely favorite - boss. She prides herself for being effective, professional and skilled at what she does. Ms. Chapman understands the field to an admirable extent and her no-nonsense ways are what landed her the title of leading officer.

"Copy. This is Colin Levine speaking. I'll get Max and Scott. Over."

Before I can intervene, she answers him:

"Copy. Keep me updated on the situation, boys. I'll try to find Leah and send her your way if things are really ugly over there. Over."

"Copy, Dorothy. Out."

I jam the talk button to activate my radio, and the nail of my thumb, although it is not that long, scratches the plastic surface that surrounds the switch.

"This is Constanza Aguayo speaking. I am on my break right next to the scene, Dorothy. What can I do? Over."

I sigh shakily, grateful as I realize that my body is already stable, rid of fear, and my mind is once more focused on the task at hand. I am ready.

"Copy that, Tanza. Wait for our guys to get there, but if you could get an idea of the damage, that would be great. Tell us when you have an update. Over."

"Copy, out."

I attach my walkie-talkie to my belt and carefully head towards the wreckage. Regardless of how careful I am being, I can hear shards of fractured glass squeaking and cracking under the reinforced soles of my boots. Luckily, the smoke is already clearing out thanks to the strong autumnal wind... Which also carries the slightly rusty odor of fresh blood. I begin to make out reddened bodies scattered across the ground, like leaves fallen from a tree with a metallic trunk, tipped over like a log behind them. Static noises coming from my radio startle me out of my observations.