Appreciated the feedback I got for my short story a few days ago titled Learn to Fly but apparently, someone demanded I continued (you know yourself).
Here’s a continuation, I hope you all like it.
I was scrambling, a proper mess. Of all days to be out of sorts, I genuinely wish it wasn’t the one day I couldn’t afford to be tardy, incoherent or flustered. I had a big presentation at the office for a new client we were courting and I had drawn the short straw to run point on this prospective account. Mambilla wasn’t registering in the back of my mind as more than a blip. People with powers needed jobs too.
The busy streets on the way to the bus stop seemed insignificant to me. I thought for a brief moment of teleporting to the office, it didn’t sound like a good idea considering I wasn’t familiar with this newfound ability. I wasn’t even comfortable using the powers I had harnessed considerably so, hell no. I would have to make it to work like I had been doing for the past 3 years. As I edged closer to the lined-up buses heading to my destination, I began to feel the familiar dread I knew I would never get used to. The randoms who I was always bound to encounter once the bus filled up. The smell.
It took another 7 minutes for the bus to get full. I spent that time telepathically grazing the minds of the other occupants of the bus as each person settled in, it made me quite uncomfortable, I felt filthy, like an intruder with no boundaries, and in some ways, it left me with regret. Discovering one of the men who sat up front with the driver was fixated on the cleaning lady in his office. He wanted to do terrible things to her and the images he painted with her in mind were more than violent. I shuddered almost visibly. The lady who sat beside me noticed and gave me a concerned look. She was worried about rent and making the last payment for a new wig, her boss had harassed her the day before, a man she truly detested.
The bus had begun to weave through traffic at an inconsistent pace, the driver exhibited every typical Lagos driver trait imagined and then some. It wasn’t something out of place for the passengers including myself. The bus had just duked it out with a Toyota sedan for a progressing lane as we approached Carter Bridge, I was occupied with the presentation notes I had made on my phone as we ascended the bridge but from the corner of my eye, I noticed we were edging closer to a trailer pulling a seemingly unsteady 40foot container. Our lane gradually moved faster but began to stall as our bus got closer to the side of the trailer. I looked up at the truck and turned my attention back to my notes but it was difficult, I tried to study the container the trailer was transporting more closely, but something didn’t feel right, the container didn’t seem steady at all. At that moment I wished I was a mere bystander, at the same time the truck’s lane began to move, and I caught a glimpse of the driver’s nonchalant heavyset face for a split second as he moved on.
It all happened in seconds. One moment I was following the trailer as it moved, the next the bus became dark, like an unusual dark cloud enveloped us and then there was nothing but screams and loud noise. I was barely able to move but I still seemed to reach for the lady beside me as I raised my hands in fear. I thought this was the end. Dust and heavy objects fell on top of me and around me but I couldn’t make out what they were, I kept my hands above me and the lady beside me until there was what I hoped was silence but there was no silence, I heard groans and fading screams of pain while I sat still with my hands up thinking about the presentation at work, “fuck!”.
I still clutched my phone, my other hand was balled into a fist. I stayed still for what seemed to me at that moment like several lifetimes, as if waiting for the life in me to fade but still nothing happened, then I heard the sobbing, just by my side, she was squeezing against me, as if the area beneath my raised hands and around my body was the only safe space and it was. All around me, in the dark and cramped space that used to be the bus I heard nothing. The minds I was intruding on earlier were silent except for the lady beside me. She was hurt, with a broken collarbone and a deep gash in her knee. I could tell because I could sense she was in pain but the overwhelming fear of what had happened had put her in shock. Without thinking I wrapped one arm under her armpits and made to force my way out upwards but she screamed. The pain was growing increasingly unbearable for her, an engine block that must have been part of the cargo in the container was pressing against the already gashed knee. I easily dislodged it but the injury was already too severe. I sat still for a moment beside the panicking lady trying not to alarm her. Calming her was no longer working but I was glad she had not started to wonder how I had managed to survive the accident without getting hurt, unfortunately for her, she was about to witness something even more shocking.
Still holding on to her I leaned back onto what remained of the fabricated bus seat behind me, I pictured a point on the side of the carter bridge I noticed as we ascended earlier. I blocked out the lady’s sobbing to focus on the spot and just as she began to grow increasingly distressed it happened. We were on the side of the road, I opened my eyes and the light was a welcome relief. I still held on tightly to the lady, her knee didn’t look good and luckily the crowd that had begun to gather around our crushed bus was a few meters ahead of us. Without thinking I started to scream “Help! Help! Help her please!”. The lady let out a loud wail and as two people approached us she began to pull away from me. One of the bystanders quickly caught her as she lost her footing. I didn’t hold onto her anymore at this point. Another bystander went into action and assisted as well. The woman began to scream “I was on the bus! I haven’t died! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus!”
As their attention became focused on the woman, I stepped further away and closed my eyes. I had not even stopped to assess my condition. I felt no pain so I most likely wasn’t hurt. All I could do was imagine my small living room, home. The familiarity of my space surrounded me within seconds, and I immediately slump unto my sofa, more in shock than out of exhaustion. One question kept ringing through my head- what was I?
