Part 1: The Trolley Approaches
The metal rails groaned beneath my boots as I sprinted across the early morning mist, my eyes fixed on the scene ahead. I am James Whitman, a structural engineer from Denver, and I had never imagined that a routine inspection would turn into a moment where every heartbeat could decide the fate of human lives.
Ahead, five workers leaned over the tracks, absorbed in their tasks, unaware that a runaway trolley was charging straight toward them. Their laughter and casual chatter seemed surreal against the rising screech of steel wheels grinding over old rails. The air was thick with fog, the smell of oil and wet wood sharp in my nostrils, and I realized that the moment to act — or to freeze — had arrived.
