The door gives a couple of centimeters. Without a word, the man standing opposite me starts to pull at the other door, and someone else materializes to help me pull on my side. My shoulders burn, my arms are numb. Every grain of my being is focused on opening the doors, all the fury and strength that has ever been in me. If they don’t open, we will smash the windows. We are leaving this station before anything else happens, before the station realizes what hit it and crumbles in on itself, or an aftershock arrives. We are getting out.
