The bus bumped over a pothole and Megan woke with a start, jerking her head from the hot pane of glass where it had been resting. She eased the twisted strap of her canvas bag from across her body. It took her a minute to get it off, then she laid her head back against the blue plastic seat. Her heart was hammering like a scared rabbit’s. What a dream.
She sat still, trying to recover, staring at the metal ceiling of the bus, where a red and white square was marked IN EMERGENCY, PULL HANDLE, THEN PUSH DOOR OUTWARD. Megan briefly pictured herself standing on the seat, pushing the hatch open. It would be cooler with...