The Wrecked Coach

Disorientation and confusion reign for what seems like an age. The screech of tortured metal and passengers intermingle to become the cries of some monstrous communal entity.

The autobus came to a final jarring halt, listing badly to one side. Most of the windows were smashed in the crash, littering with passenger cabin with small shards. Hand luggage and personal possessions are scattered around from where bags burst open. Amongst the items now on the floor of the coach are a battered leather journal with the letter 'R' embossed on the cover, a bottle of good burbon (miraculously intact), a webley .38 revolver, and a 9mm luger.

The passengers ache all over. it was a painful, jarring collison, however, they managed to avoid the worst of it. They are battered and uncomfortable, with some small cuts from the glass, but managed to get a hold of a pole, brace themself against the back of the seat in front, or cover their head against falling debris.

Not everyone was so lucky.

The scruffily dressed fellow with the lop-sided mustache looks like he took a nasty knock to the back of his head. He reaches a hand to gingerly probe the area and it comes away glistening. He looks a little shaken and glassy eyed. Manny thinks "Why does everything keep happening to me? How can a man who used to ride bare back in a circus, and dance around clawing lions, have lost his agility? the others all seem fine." He pushes himself to his feet, and staggers around for a while, trying to wipe off the blood, and recover from his injuries.

Up at the front of the coach, the driver is slumped over the wheel. He isn't moving, and seems oddly contorted around the steering column. The door, off to his side, has broken open, and is now swinging freely in the wind.

It is still raining outside, and with the broken windows, some of which are pointing skyward, it is starting to get wet inside. The metal floor becoming slippery underfoot. The coach creaks ominously, and the small battery powered internal lights start to dim and fade. The only light comes from the one remaining working headlight, outside.

After being punched, kicked and pummelled by flying luggage Hal's first priority is to check he's OK. He's too shaken for his mind to form anything approaching a coherent question. Hal is battered and sore in a dozen places but none of his injuries are demanding immediate attention. Carefully, Hal climbs to his feet. In true British style Hal checks if any of his fellow passengers require assistance. Hal then checks on the driver, and if he's OK proceed to shout at him for being an incompetent, foreign idiot.

Roland takes a look outside, trying to figure out why the bus crashed. He can't see much of anything through the windows, as rain whips in from outside. He gets to his feet and heads to the door, it's a short drop down from the door to the muddy ground of the deep, steep sided, ditch in which the bus now rests, probably for perpituity. The bottom of the ditch is filled with all manner of rusting detritus and rubbish. The ravine is filling up with rainwater, and Roland's knowledge of the outdoors suggests that a flash flood can't be ruled out here. He turns back into the bus and shouts "Hey, is everyone ok?" before steping outside the bus.

Nearby, having extracted himself from the wreckage, Kurt and Hal are now both checking on the driver. Hal seems prepared to give the driver a stern ticking off, but Kurt checks for a pulse and finds nothing, his suspicions confirmed. The driver is clearly dead, his head now resting at an unnatural angle. He is far beyond the battlefield first aid that Kurt knows, but at least he probably died almost instantly in the crash. From this position, Kurt can see that the coach is resting in a steep ditch, but it is not readily apparent what actually caused the crash.

Richard blinks a few times and shakes his head, before asking the nearest passenger if they're ok. Well, he thinks that they're a passenger, in this dark it could be a bundle of luggage. Once on his feet, he helps the confused and shaken Manny towards the door. He looks like he could use a little medical attention. Thinking about the crash, the coach didn't seem to brake normally, but rather as if it had hit something, suddenly loosing control. Richard gives Manny a check over, using first aid in the light from the bus headlights. He checks that Manny's injuries aren't life threatening, and that he'll be fine given time. Head wounds always produce a lot of blood. It's mostly shock. Some of that bourbon he saw rolling about in the coach might not be a bad idea.