It's suffocating.
"Get down!" It's a whole lot muffled between the metal and the distance between us, but the surface raider's weapon cocked and loaded makes an emphasis on his words. They snap like spring to my ears, as well as that of everyone in the bus with me.
Trembling, weeping beside me with a child no older than I am wrapped in her arm is the woman I was just having a nice chat with, her husband is dead and the child in her arm is the last family she has. I shouldn't feel so indignant at her, she knows her priorities, she can't be my mother too.
Besides, I'm at least a hundred and twenty years older than her, if anything I should be holding her in my arms.
Jealousy at being left out can only occupy me for so long, distracting me from the sounds of the driver getting kicked and beaten outside, and from the approaching surface raider.