"C'mon man, hurry!" Jaxon crossed the busy city street through molasses-quick rush-hour traffic. Jason hefted the heavy bag of recording gear and followed. They'd needed months to put it together: scrounging money to buy or rent equipment, wheedling friends and teachers to borrow anything that was available, and skipping school. They'd get in trouble, sure, but they'd be legends. It was the chance of a lifetime. At least the chance of high school. Same thing.
Jason weaved through the sluggish traffic. He was halfway across when a honk and the shriek of metal on asphalt turned him around. A motorcycle squeezing between the cars had flipped somehow. The rider wasn't moving. Jaxon yelled at him to come on. Someone in a Lexus yelled for someone to pull the bike and biker to the curb so he could get to work.
Jason had taken first response classes. He knew what a bad idea that was. He knew the ambulance would take forever in this traffic, the police would demand paperwork, and he would never have another chance to shoot this video.
Ignoring Jaxon's yells, Jason knelt by the rider and pulled out his phone. "Help is on the way," he said.