The road delivered a bus into a parked fuel truck.
Ridge Array had cleared its eastern yard after the first three vehicles arrived. The fuel truck belonged beyond the barrier. Black lane paint extended under the barrier, turned eight degrees, and put the bus into its rear axle anyway.
The impact split the truck's empty reserve tank.
Bus windows broke. Eleven passengers fell into the aisle. The driver stayed against the wheel with both hands locked around it.
"Current fire?" the local crew called.
"No fuel in reserve. Main tank sealed. Battery smoke front left."
Two rescuers cut the bus battery before opening doors. The road had already moved one exit thirty centimeters into the fuel truck.
Rina watched through Ridge Array's unsynchronized feed.
"Do not follow lane position," she said. "Ask each door where it opens now."
The rear bus door opened onto the yard.
The front opened onto a stone road beneath red snow.
