From zero to almost fifty kilometers per hour. With a shift in gear and a screech against the asphalt, the Alfa Romeo turned into a red flash and appeared right where its driver wanted it to be.
When Alex got to the middle of the highway he had only been waiting for the green light to cross and continue on his way, he understood everything.
It was not just plain stupid recklessness that was about to cause a tragedy. Looking into the wide eyes in the middle of the panicked face in the cab of the truck, his eyes narrowed, and he heard, amidst the heavy whirrings of the angry engine, the broken, disjointed clangs of failing mechanics.
Either because of old age, too much pressure, or lack of care, the driver of the truck wanted to stop, but could only watch, and be both a witness and a participant of what was about to happen, what would haunt him all his life if he survived, after he survived.
So, it was a catastrophe born out of recklessness compounded with a failure that remained a phenomenon that might never be erased despite the laws and the regulations, not when life's pressure itself could never be erased.
But all of that only flashed through Alex's mind while he took in everything around him, and reality caught up with his fast-spinning thoughts.
The mother's despairing cry came from afar. The crowd's tensed exclamation created the sonorous background of the scene. And the unbridled truck brought about the climax.
Alex's hand flew over the clutch, but not to bring the speed down. He pushed his Alfa Romeo's engine further at the same time as his hand slid to the hand brake to pull it upward.
The sports car didn't even have the opportunity to jerk. With a deft handling, it slid into a sideways drift that was both beautiful and violent, so much so that it painted the asphalt black from the sacrifice of the tyres.
The drift made the car trace a circle that made it go from between the truck and the little girl that remained oblivious to everything, frozen only because of the shout of her mother, to behind the little girl. But another thing that happened at the same time as the sports car changed its position was the front door opening, and Alex, his right hand on the wheel, pushed himself out of the car with his left hand extended outside.
Even though a tragedy was set to happen, the smooth coordination of Alex's movements only radiated beauty, and grace, even in the face of deadly danger. Or especially in the face of deadly danger.
Everything seemed to happen slowly, but it took only one second. And as the inertia caused the door Alex had pushed open to slam shut again, the impact happened, loud, jarring, heart-stopping, with that sound the helpless mother heard through the haze of despair:
*SCREECH– BANG!!!*
The truck ran into the Alfa Romeo, then panickedly pushed it all the way into the yellow barrels in the middle of the road.
The intersection, though pregnant with both a heavy crowd and a traffic that was far from light, seemed to freeze. All sounds seemed to have been swallowed, while only the light remained bright, too bright.
"He– he– he saved her!"
Even as the exclamation shattered the dreadful silence and many came back to their senses to notice the lack of blood in the middle of the road, realization started to set in.
Many had thought the red sports car was only putting itself between the girl and the truck, only to be taken aback by the maneuver that followed. And now, the lack of blood only meant that the little girl had been saved. Her small form had not been run over.
First came relief, even from strangers, then came another realization.
"Save them!"
_ _ _
_ _ _
No one felt the impact of the accident more clearly than Alex. Letting go of the wheel, he hunched over to cover the small form he had managed to pull into the car at the last moment, covering her with his arms, and felt the door beside him crumble under the weight of the kinetic energy of the truck, deforming so much that it hit his unprotected side, and pressed deep into the fragile skin over his ribs.
The world seemed to buzz for a moment, as the silence outside felt deafening, before the sounds from reality came back.
Alex smiled. For a second, he thought that it was his ears that had stopped working.
Glancing to the left, the darkness from the shadow of the truck felt heavy, but he only blinked, then turned away indifferently. He looked down at the unmoving form in his arms, but he didn't panic. He could hear the small heart beating fast but strong, so he didn't worry. Rather, he felt relieved, and he let out an exhale, accompanied with a smile as he leaned back, and started to stroke the back of the panicked little girl to calm her down.
"Save them!"
"Pull them out!"
"Are they still alive?"
"Control the truck! Keep the driver here!"
Voices came from outside, both from the driver side blocked by the truck and from the passenger side where there were overturned barrels and spilled sand.
"Hey! Can you move? Do you need an ambulance?"
Glancing at the bearded face that appeared at the window on the right, Alex shook his head with a casual smile on his lips:
"Don't worry about me. Call an ambulance for…" blinking, Alex looked down as he recalled the shout just now, and continued, "...Emilie, and get her mother here. They will both need it."
The man outside blinked, impressed by Alex's composure, especially as he looked at the crumbled frame beyond the latter, then nodded firmly:
"Okay! Stay put, we will get you out soon."
And indeed, putting a jacket over the broken glass of the window on the passenger side, the crowd pulled the little girl out first, then helped Alex out after he dislodged himself from his broken seat.
Seeing him stand tall after the ordeal and still manage to smile, there was first a feeling of awe, before applause followed, applause the playboy didn't shy away from.
Smiling brightly, he waved at the crowd with no modesty at all. Unfortunately, his car was wrecked. Shaking his head inwardly, he stretched his hand inside to find his phone as he recalled what he had been doing before everything happened.
Fortunately, despite losing his car, his phone remained pristine, aside from the debris of broken glass all over it. Wiping it with a smile, he called back the assistant of his mother —slash his 'big sister'— who had called him two more times during the last fifteen minutes.
Before him, the crowd parted to make way for the woman whose world had crumbled only to get patched back up in the next second. Crying as she cradled little Emilie tighter than she ever had, she muttered in the broken voice of someone who had no other way to express the depth of her gratitude:
"Thank you~ thank you~ really, thank you~ thank you~"
Each expression of gratitude was accompanied by a bow, as well as even more tears, as the haunting memory of the accident seemed to come back again and again, each time clearer, each time deeper, each time more painful.
Alex exhaled. He could understand her, but all he could see now was how her movements would only bring more discomfort to the unconscious little girl.
Shaking his head softly, he extended a hand to hold the young mother back by the shoulder:
"Please, don't–"
Alex didn't finish his words. He stopped mid-sentence, because right at that moment, his call connected, and the first thing he heard made him freeze in place, smile and all:
"Alex! The chairwoman… Your mother… Godmother… She is at the hospital."
All other sounds faded, leaving only a deafening buzzing.
It was Alex's turn to feel the world coming to crash down.