He opened his eyes to the cacophony of voices. Faces came into focus -- Mr. Jacobson, a man in uniform -- wait, police? -- and a giant towering over him. Was that the truck driver? He tried to clear the fog from his brain as he reached up and brushed broken glass from his hair.
"Don't try to move; you're hurt", someone behind him said. Another face came into view, a man wearing glasses in which flashing red lights were reflected. "We'll get you out of there, hold on", the stranger said.
Hands pulled him free of a jumble of metal and glass, pulled him onto a stretcher. "No wait, I'm …