Cleaning up.
(This scene takes place before Thanksgiving.)
Kenna's wound up in Wilmington, and Fand, does she hate this place. It's nothing like what it should be... a lot of badly laid-out roadways and a lot of poor, depressed people. It's the places like this that need the most help when a crisis hits, though.
She's put in more than her fair share of work here today, and she's headed the hell home. Things are winding down and people are starting to regain their sanity, which is nice because she's actually tired of punching people.
Rt. 13 is eerily quiet and empty at this hour. The two cars pulled over on the side of the road with their flashers on immediately catches Kenna's attention. She slows down from 55, letting the spedometer fall and fall until she's finally at a stop behind a car on the side of the road. She puts her flashers on just like the others, unsnaps her seatbelt and steps out.
Eighty feet ahead or so, on the side of the road, there's an SUV flipped over. It's turned in such a way that the passenger side is pinned against a telephone pole. From the looks of it, it rolled a few times before impacting with the pole, and the driver-side door looks crushed in as well. Looks like they got clipped on the driver's side, probably by a rig that is nowhere in sight now.
There's already five people assisting the passengers of the SUV out, and one of the Good Samaritans has already called police and EMT. Kenna's not sure what she can do for a moment, and then one of them draws attention to the people hovering on the side crushed by the pole. The front passenger is pinned inside the car but besides sounding very scared and a little disoriented, he says he's only cut a bit and maybe a broken leg. The others are quickly debating how to get him out because he's starting to panic and he's going to hurt himself if they don't move him safely, ASAP.
Kenna sighs, moving forward into the crowd and making the offer. Maybe it's a crazy idea, but she's a tiny thing and she's quite flexible. She's also got the eyes of a hawk even in the pitchest black, and if the folks on the outside do exactly as she says, she can climb in through the SUV's back window and maybe get the guy free, or at least with some range of motion or company so he'll calm the fuck down.
Fortunately, the group agrees. Unfortunately, she can't get him free, or much range of motion. She does keep him company, though, and that keeps him pretty calm until the EMTs arrive. The cops give her a bit of an attitude about taking a risk like that, but she hasn't actually done anything wrong so she does what she always does when The Man gives her 'tude... smile sweetly and hope they spend several seconds choking on a peanut tomorrow.
She gives a report to them along with all her information and then goes back to her car. She doesn't drive away, though. Like the other Samaritans, she hovers by her open car door and watches the professionals do their work for a few minutes.
Kenna's wound up in Wilmington, and Fand, does she hate this place. It's nothing like what it should be... a lot of badly laid-out roadways and a lot of poor, depressed people. It's the places like this that need the most help when a crisis hits, though.
She's put in more than her fair share of work here today, and she's headed the hell home. Things are winding down and people are starting to regain their sanity, which is nice because she's actually tired of punching people.
Rt. 13 is eerily quiet and empty at this hour. The two cars pulled over on the side of the road with their flashers on immediately catches Kenna's attention. She slows down from 55, letting the spedometer fall and fall until she's finally at a stop behind a car on the side of the road. She puts her flashers on just like the others, unsnaps her seatbelt and steps out.
Eighty feet ahead or so, on the side of the road, there's an SUV flipped over. It's turned in such a way that the passenger side is pinned against a telephone pole. From the looks of it, it rolled a few times before impacting with the pole, and the driver-side door looks crushed in as well. Looks like they got clipped on the driver's side, probably by a rig that is nowhere in sight now.
There's already five people assisting the passengers of the SUV out, and one of the Good Samaritans has already called police and EMT. Kenna's not sure what she can do for a moment, and then one of them draws attention to the people hovering on the side crushed by the pole. The front passenger is pinned inside the car but besides sounding very scared and a little disoriented, he says he's only cut a bit and maybe a broken leg. The others are quickly debating how to get him out because he's starting to panic and he's going to hurt himself if they don't move him safely, ASAP.
Kenna sighs, moving forward into the crowd and making the offer. Maybe it's a crazy idea, but she's a tiny thing and she's quite flexible. She's also got the eyes of a hawk even in the pitchest black, and if the folks on the outside do exactly as she says, she can climb in through the SUV's back window and maybe get the guy free, or at least with some range of motion or company so he'll calm the fuck down.
Fortunately, the group agrees. Unfortunately, she can't get him free, or much range of motion. She does keep him company, though, and that keeps him pretty calm until the EMTs arrive. The cops give her a bit of an attitude about taking a risk like that, but she hasn't actually done anything wrong so she does what she always does when The Man gives her 'tude... smile sweetly and hope they spend several seconds choking on a peanut tomorrow.
She gives a report to them along with all her information and then goes back to her car. She doesn't drive away, though. Like the other Samaritans, she hovers by her open car door and watches the professionals do their work for a few minutes.