Nobody Gives a Courier the Right of Way

He was on wet ground with flames roaring in the distance. People were screaming. Someone was livestreaming with a phone, the camera shaking so hard it looked like an earthquake. Stranger still, Noah could see sound. The wail of fire trucks became red ribbons cutting through the street. Footsteps turned into gray-white dots. Crying, coughing, the scrape of metal, all of it became different-colored threads, colliding and rebounding in the air. Noah pushed himself up and touched a bent sheet of steel. "Don't touch it! The whole section could collapse!" someone shouted. The instant his palm hit the steel, the vibration pattern in it flashed in his vision. As if guided by that pattern, Noah shoved sideways.