Jingwei pressed the horn as the headlights came toward them, holding it down while the minibus driver waved frantically from his window.
The lights dipped behind a sweep of dust, then emerged with the front of a delivery truck between them.
Its driver was braking, but the truck kept coming. Jingwei could hear its tires dragging across the pavement even through the closed windows.
Zeyu held the mobile base still. The burning bus was beside them, the minibus blocked their path, and passengers were still climbing through the broken window behind them.
Any attempt to move would put someone beneath their wheels.
The delivery truck’s front wheels turned toward the opposite curb.
Jingwei braced his feet against the floor as it struck the parked car.
The impact shoved the car sideways and swung the truck’s rear into a roadside pole. One headlight went out. The other shone through the dust, pointing almost directly at them.
Jingwei released the horn. For a moment, the engine and the wind were the only sounds inside the cab.
"Is everyone all right?" Zeyu asked, loosening his grip on the wheel. "I couldn’t move without hitting someone."
Jingwei turned enough to see Qinghe looking toward Zhiyi. She had one hand against Hanchuan’s chest, and his arm was still around her shoulders.
"We didn’t hit anything," Zhiyi told Zeyu. "You stopped in time. There was nowhere else for you to go."
Zeyu nodded, keeping his attention on the road, but some of the strain eased from his face.
The minibus driver pulled his head inside and shouted at his passengers. A moment later, the attendant leaned through the open side door.
"Move your truck!" the attendant called toward the wreck. "You’re blocking us!"
The delivery driver didn’t answer. He was bent over the wheel. Beside him, a woman slowly lifted her head, touched her forehead, and looked at the blood on her fingers.
The attendant jumped down and hurried toward the truck. Jingwei followed him with the camera, expecting him to try the cab door.
Instead, he went around to the back.
"He’s checking the cargo," Shichen said, leaning closer to the display. "He hasn’t even looked inside the cab."
The attendant pulled at the rear latch. When it wouldn’t open, he slapped the door and called for help. The man in the pale shirt climbed out of the minibus to join him.
In the cab, the injured woman was shaking the driver’s shoulder. She looked toward the two men and shouted through the glass.
"They must be able to hear her," Qinghe said quietly.
Neither man stopped working on the latch.
A gust carried sparks past the mobile base’s right window. Jingwei switched back to the bus camera.
Fire had reached the open luggage compartment, catching a bag that hung over the edge. Its fabric curled away from the heat while the straps burned.
"We need to get past them," Hanchuan said. "Zeyu, how much room do you need?"
"The minibus has to straighten out first," Zeyu replied. "Once he pulls forward, I can bring us through behind him."
Jingwei opened the speaker.
"Move the minibus," Jingwei called. "The fire’s spreading, and you’re blocking the road."
Its driver leaned out again, pointing at the crashed truck.
"Where do you expect me to go?" the driver shouted. "Can’t you see what’s in front of me?"
"There’s room ahead of the bus," Zeyu told him through the microphone. "Straighten your wheels and pull forward. You don’t need to get past the truck to let us through."
The driver looked toward his attendant, but both men at the rear of the truck were busy. The one in the pale shirt had found something to pry at the latch.
When Jingwei repeated the instruction, the minibus moved a short distance, then stopped.
Its driver pointed down. A suitcase lay beneath the front corner, where the wheel needed to turn.
Jingwei stared at it. The same man had driven away while a woman clung to her bag. Now he was refusing to risk his vehicle by driving over one.
"Go over the suitcase," Hanchuan told him through the speaker. "You need to clear the lane."
The driver shook his head and stayed where he was.
A scream came from behind them.
On the bus camera, a man hung from the broken window with his shirt caught on the jagged lower edge. Someone inside tried to lift him while he kicked against the side, searching for a foothold.
The mother who had caught her daughter stood several paces away. The girl tried to move closer, but her mother held her back.
Qinghe reached for the microphone just as the man’s shirt tore free. He fell and stayed on his hands and knees while the next passenger began climbing out above him.
"If he won’t drive, I can push him clear," Zeyu said, watching the minibus. "But there are people inside. I’d rather he moved it himself."
Before Hanchuan could answer, a woman climbed out of the minibus with a backpack against her chest.
The attendant saw her and shouted for her to get back inside. She ignored him, crouching beside the front wheel to pull the suitcase away.
The driver started moving before she had straightened.
"Wait for me!" the woman shouted, stumbling backward with the suitcase. "I’m right here!"
The minibus rolled past her. She dropped the suitcase and ran alongside, trying to throw her backpack onto the step. Someone inside pushed it back.
"My mother’s in there!" she cried, reaching for the doorway. "Let me on!"
An older woman appeared between the passengers and stretched out her hand. The daughter caught the doorframe, her feet slipping before she found the step. Her mother grabbed her clothes and pulled while she scrambled inside.
Jingwei let out the breath he had been holding.
"I’ve got enough room now," Zeyu said. "Watch the bus side for me."
The mobile base began moving. Jingwei checked their clearance while Shichen watched the crashed truck.
They passed close enough for Jingwei to see blood running from the injured passenger’s hairline into her eyebrow. She pressed both palms against the window as their headlights reached her.
At the back of the truck, the latch finally gave.
The doors swung open, spilling packages onto the road. People walking away from the fire stopped. One man picked up a torn carton and turned it toward the light before dropping to his knees beside it.
Jingwei recognized the bottles just before the man raised one above his head.
"Water!" the man shouted. "There’s water in the truck!"
People turned back toward the wreck, and the woman in the cab began striking her window again.