Hyperventilating and crying, sitting on the sidewalk.

Doesn't Clarice have a son to pick up?

She does but there is a dying person here and there's traffic.

Where's the fucking ambulance? How many other dead people are there in the area?

Like four? And the cars are moving too little for an ambulance to arrive in a timely fashion.

Well the cars are probably moving too slowly for her to get approximately anywhere in a timely fashion herself, then.

More time on CPR. It's probably pointless at this stage, but, still.

Yep. Pretty pointless. That guy is dead. There's not even the slightest hint of a heartbeat there.

Okay but if there were an ambulance there is a chance that he could – ten minutes without any blood pumping is the point of brain damage, with CPR it extends a lot from that and he could still – but there's no ambulance coming, is there.

At least she hasn't dropped dead of whatever gas leak it is. Yet.

She stops, catches her breath, and pulls out her phone to dial the school back again.

It takes even longer to be picked up. "Yes?" There are children crying in the background.

"– Are the kids okay? It's Clarice, Alexandre's mother."

"Oh. Alexandre's fine, but a couple of the kids—" Her voice breaks. "We're trying to keep everyone calm, here. But please, come as fast as you can."

"Right, I'll try to – traffic is pretty dense, though, and I'm halfway across town."

She walks over to her car as she says this, looking back at the body just once.

Still dead.

Are people still dropping dead, can she tell, or was it just a brief wave?

As far as she can tell people are not dropping dead anymore.

Well, back into her car she gets, dialing her husband to check he's okay as she starts the vehicle.

No answer.

… Could be busy with saving someone. He's first-aid trained, she took him to a course.

She starts the car and pulls into the traffic.

It is slow but not stopped.

She tries her husband again after a few minutes.

Nope.

… After another ten.

Still no.

She keeps trying a few more times, while slowly moving through the traffic.

Eventually someone picks up. "Clarice?" asks a voice she recognises as a co-worker of her husband's.

"… Hello," she says. "Is this – is this a bad time, should I just wait?"

"Clarice, I'm so sorry."