Without really thinking about what I was doing, I threw up my hands as the van rolled again, toward the embankment on the right, stretching my karmic magic out. I slowed the rolling of the van with my magic, pulling on the van as hard as I could to keep it from flipping again. Even though in the back of my mind, I was sure its momentum was too much for my magic to stop. Not in time, anyway.
But I knew I had to try.
This deep sense of something inside of me yanked hard, but not quite tearing. It was an uncomfortable sensation that bordered on painful, and then there was a familiar awareness as every hair on my body stood on end. If this was my first time using my magic, no doubt the feeling would have distracted me, letting that van roll just enough to send them over the edge. But I gritted my teeth and focused on what I was doing.
And to my shock, I managed to stop the vehicle. On all four wheels, like something out of a cartoon, although it was still crumpled and battered. A loud boom sounded behind me, along with the crunch of metal on metal, but when I glanced in my rearview mirror, all I could see was smoke, and a few cars that had screeched to a halt.
“Everyone okay?”
No, Buster grumbled. And I looked back to see him, all his hair standing on end, still in Carol’s lap.
“He’s fine,” Carol said, a little breathless.
Time to move.
When we jumped out of the car, I looked back to find the SUV had slammed head first into the barrier between the interstates. My gut told me that this was bad. That a lot of people were going to be gravely hurt today, and I froze for one second, not sure who to go to first.
Then, a cool calm washed over me. The SUV would have to wait. The family had to be seen to first. As I raced toward the minivan I had a moment of wondering if all parents had this super power. Could we all keep our heads during a crisis so we didn’t scare the kids?
We made it to the passenger door to see the Dad unbuckling his seatbelt and struggling to get to the back. Carol yanked open the sliding door on the side, which was so bent in she surely added a bit ofoomphto it to get it to open without the jaws of life.
Six children stared at us with wide, scared eyes.
I climbed halfway into the car. “Is everyone okay?”
Please, let them be okay, I thought, as my gaze darted around the vehicle. I took in the kids and the surroundings in a split second. Cheerios and a variety of other snacks covered most surfaces and juice boxes and water bottles were scattered around as well, not to mention the stuffed animals that had landed in awkward positions across the seats.
“I think so,” the mom said, her voice shaking, as she unbuckled and turned in her seat. Her eyes were wide with fear and I knew that there was the potential for her to go into shock, for all of them to go into shock really, but I also didn't think that the parents would until they knew the kids were okay.
We began the careful process of checking all the children over as sirens in the distance told us help was on the way. They looked scared. A little sore. But no one was bleeding. Nothing appeared broken.
It was almost a miracle. Or Karma had done more than just stop them from going over the edge. I wasn’t really sure.
As soon as we knew nobody in the van was grievously injured, we turned almost as one and hurried toward the SUV to find a woman passed out. As I assessed the situation I waved the others. on to check on any other cars that had been involved. She’d hit her head, probably on the steering wheel. No airbag had deployed.
Damn it.
Her limp hand fell to the side, displaying a diabetes medical alert bracelet.
My stomach turned, and my eyes prickled with tears. “Can you hear me?” I yelled. I’d been angry, but it seemed like she was having a diabetic emergency. I’d heard stories about how easy it could be to mix up the two at first sight.
I grabbed the woman’s shoulder and leaned into the car… and a large, nearly-empty plastic bottle of vodka fell out from beside her. The red and silver label glinted in the light as though it was mocking the whole situation. My gaze was glued to that bottle as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
She moaned and moved her head. Her eyes fluttered open, but her gaze wouldn’t focus on my face. “I’m not drunk. Just had… a couple.”
A sigh slipped from my lips. My guess was this wasn’t her first rodeo, which was sad in so many ways. Her bad choice could’ve had a very different outcome today. Now though, she’d live. Hopefully with one hell of a headache and a lot of jail time.
I turned back to see the ambulance pulling up, and spotted a sign on the other side of the van I hadn’t noticed before.
As Carol, Beth, and Deva came to my side they noticed my gaze locked on to the sign as I sighed.
Welcome to Springfield.
“Well, that can’t be a good omen,” Deva muttered.
She was right. If this was how my trip home was starting, I wondered how it would end...
Chapter Two
