Andy P.O.V.
Everything was happening so fast.
One minute I'm asleep, the next I'm dragging my friends limp body out of the bus.
When Joe fell unconscious, I quickly leaned over him to check if he was okay. His cheek was turning an ugly purple, but I felt a strong pulse. I told Pete to make sure Patrick was safe before focusing my attention on Joe.
His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. It was relieving to know that he was at least conscious.
I felt the bus come to a bumpy stop, then heard Patrick's dreadful screaming. I looked at Pete in horror and he wore a similar expression.
Pete started banging on the door while I draped Joe's arm over my shoulder. He leaned heavily on me and I walked him out of the bus, dialing 911.
Once I felt we were a safe distance away, I carefully set Joe on the ground. He mumbled something not intelligible.
I looked at the bus and my eyes bulged out of my skull. The entire front of our bus was engulfed in flames.
I spat out at 911 where we were and our situation. They said they would be there soon. Hurry the fuck up, I thought.
In the distance, I saw Pete drag someone out of the bus. In his arms was our bus driver, Mark. Pete walked about halfway to where I was, shouted something at me, dropped Mark, and bolted back into the bus.
I ran to Mark and stopped when I saw his legs. They were blistered and charred, pink and black in places. At a closer look, I saw he was unconscious. I hooked my hands under his armpits and dragged him to where Joe and I were.
I looked back at the bus, willing Pete to come out. Apparently it worked, because just a moment later, Pete came stumbling out of the bus, Patrick limp in his arms.
The moment they were about three feet from the bus, the engine exploded. I felt a rush of heat and fell to the ground. I looked up and saw Pete hitting the ground. I looked around for Patrick, but didn't see him.
I finally heard sirens coming our way. The flashing lights stopped and started spraying water on the bus. I had the sense to stand up, so I did just that.
I saw paramedics huddling over Pete, Joe, and Mark. I heard Pete shouting for Patrick.
Then I remembered Patrick. Where was he?
I turned in a circle, looking for the familiar boy in my vision. Suddenly, I heard a weak cry for help in a voice I knew all too well.
I turned around and saw a figure, unmoving, huddled on the ground against the line of trees. I ran faster than I have ever run before, dropping to my knees at his side. His eyes were closed, but he was shivering, despite his arm that looked like it was about to shrivel up and fall off.
"Patrick, oh man. You'll be okay," I said, trying to convince myself.
The only response Patrick could muster was tears crawling from his eyes. He looked like he was in so much pain. He didn't deserve this.
Soon enough, the paramedics were shoving me out of the way. I let them, despite the feeling in my gut that told me I should keep Patrick close.
"Patrick," I shouted, "stay alive!"