Check on Phil

You shake your head. There’s no way you’d let those freaks get their hands on you! What if they deleted you or something? You turn back to the wrecked car that Phil had been driving and jog over, somewhat startled at an unfamiliar sensation until you remember; you have boobs now!
Expecting the worst you are not surprised when you see the remains of the front of the car are smashed to about half-way into the back seats; there’s no way anyone could have survived. You feel a shiver go through you at the creepiness of looking at where you ‘died’, there are just some things that people shouldn’t have to experience.

“Fuck…” you mutter. If only you could reach a phone or something. You suddenly straighten. Maybe you have one built in, like the way you seem to be able to control stuff? Shrugging, you decide that it’s at least worth a shot. You stand still for a while, trying to figure this out.

“Call 911.” You state. Nothing. “Call nine, one, one?” Still nothing. Shit. Of all the useful things to put into a test subject that is able to decode shit with her mind, apparently a phone wasn’t top priority. You sigh as you realize that it’s probably to stop whoever was in it to call for help.
As you stand musing, you hear sirens in the background and from what you can tell they’re approaching. You feel a twinge of relief before you remember that your housemate’s dead in his car with your body next to him!

“Shit!” you exclaim. If you hang around, the cops will probably suspect you of something, especially since you seem to have picked up superpowers.