"The first casualty of the conflict must be our own sentimentality" - Paul Redecker

Rodney Montgomery

Eaten

On a metro bus in Kansas sit ten people, each one with their own pasts and differences. A girl in her twenties wearing only designer clothes gabbed on her newest cell phone. In front of her were two men wearing old clothes and were quietly gripped into a very intense discussion.. In front of them was a man who hadn't bathed in days. There wasn't anyone within two seats of him. In the third seat sat what appeared to be newlyweds. They gazed into each other's eyes intently. Near them were a middle-aged couple talking about their kids they had left behind. At the front of the bus sat Billy the bus driver. Billy was overweight and had been driving buses for Metro ever since he could work, but in all his time driving nothing could have prepared him for what was about to happen.

Smoke was pouring out from a small wooden house not too far away. Smoke caked against the glass, dying to escape, pushed its way through open splinters. A few windows had given in to the flames and had shattered.

Billy looked ahead curious to see what all the fuss could be about in the planes of Kansas. Leaning in over the wheel, he strained his neck to see the somewhat distant house.

A jolt of shock rushed over him sending Billy back into his sweat riddled seat. The door front door had been smashed forward off of its hinges from the impact of a burning body. The man fell to the dirt and immediately got up flailing his arms. "Holy shit," Billy remarked thinking of what to do.

Everyone's faces pressed against the glass on the left side of the bus. Out of a bedroom window on the second floor came fell a little girl. Her dress had turned to ash before she hit the ground.

"Oh my God." Bridgette, former girlfriend turned wife gasped. She cupped her hands over her mouth watching in terror. The bus was now crawling at a pace of only 3 miles an hour, as Billy gently pushed in the brake.

"Holy shit it's them!" Billy declared pointing at the horrific scene. The little girl clawed her way across the dirt towards the almost dead man who had fallen out the front door. She finally reached him, only to begin gnawing at his neck.

"They said it was under control!" A man shouted from one of the front seats. John Harvey was a middle aged man who had spent his whole life working hard to live up to his father's expectations. He wore a dull blue button-down over his average body. John was a father who was raising two boys along with his wife Ruth. They had come out for a small vacation after Ruth had finally convinced her husband that he could use a break.

"Everyone remain calm." Billy ordered. Already he could sense fear and tension on the rise, not only in himself, but the others around him.

"That's the government for you." John proclaimed loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Calm down honey," Ruth whispered to her reddening husband.

"What was supposed to be contained?" The preppy girl in the back asked looking up from her window. John sensed her interest in his conversation so he continued.

"In New York…" He said grasping at an orange container of Zoloft. "There were these things. I don't know They were calling them zombies." His voice was getting louder. "Reanimation. You get fluids transferred, you become one." Ruth let out a sigh of relief glad her husband hadn't lost his cool.

"You honestly, didn't hear about this shit?" Asked a man leaning over his seat to look at Tracy. He wore a pinstripe fedora along with a black coat. The man next to him was dressed similarly. They were Tony and Harry, escaped convicts running from Omaha's Correctional Center.

"No, actually I didn't," Tracy replied snottily. It was obvious from her appearance that she would much rather be attending a college frat party than picking up a newspaper. She turned away. Back out the window, she watched.

The little girl had clearly finished on her finally lifeless father. He laid there, crackling under the fire like fresh wood while she crawled towards the bus.

"Oh my God!" Bridgette cried at the sight. Chad placed a rough hand on his wife's shoulder. Billy picked up a small black radio. It's rivets melted into his sweating palms as he held in a button along the top.

"45 to base." He said shakily.

"Go ahead 45," a voice scratched by the reception replied.

"I'm calling in to report a case of…" He was cut off.

"We know Bill. We've been getting calls all day."

"What?"

"They're everywhere. No one told us anything about it. We're just finding out now that most of are drivers are coming into contact with them." John turned away from the window at this. His face turned red before he started punching the hell out of the seat in front of him.

"Honey. Honey." Ruth begged. Billy turned around trying to control the situation. A bead of sweat dripped out from under his blue cap, landing in his lap.

"Alright now, calm down sir. Larry," Billy began, gripping the radio even tighter and hunching over. "What am I supposed to do?" He glanced out the window trying to locate the little girl. She too had now burned to death.

"We've got a list here, uhm…" there was a ruffling of papers. "there's shelters being set up in Ashland, Burr Oak, we got one in Garnett, uh… Macksville and Melvern, and I'm trying to think here. We just got one called in, but I can't remember where. You close to any of those Bill?"

"I'm about 20 miles east of Concordia."

"God uhm…"

"Oh a punch bug," said Tracy from the back of the bus. The two criminals in front of her spoke to one another.

"That's the first car we've seen in a while," Tony commented.

"I know," Harry replied.

"Bill, if you start heading back now you guys can probably make Randall," Larry's voice came through the radio barely audible now.

"Randall?" Billy questioned.

"Yeah, it's a little town not too far away from where you are. They've got an elementary school there. It should be a good place to go."

"Alright," Billy said slamming down his handset. "Listen folks, We have a little problem here. We're headed for some school in a town not far from here for precautionary reasons."

"Shit," John almost yelled punching the seat again. The bus jumped forward

"Are we in any danger?" Chad asked. Billy pretended to ignore him. He grabbed the clutch and shoved it into gear with a slam. Seconds after moving there was a loud pop and then hissing.

"Shit," Billy whispered harshly.

"No!" John screamed throwing more sporadic punches at the navy seat in from of him.

"Don't panic, there's a spare tire underneath the bus everyone." Billy got up from his chair stained from fearful sweat and brushed off some few chips from his lap. Fidgeting with the door opener Chad and Bridgette both volunteered to help.

"Hi my name is Chad." He said to Billy

"And I'm Bridgette. We'll be glad to do whatever we can." She wiped a tear away from her face.

"Okay then. Pleasure to meet you Chad, Bridgette." He spoke up so everyone on the bus could hear. "We'll be right back." Billy led the way off after finally opening the door.

A few more cars sped by in the opposite direction, while everyone stared at each other in horror. The stench of fear was filling the heated bus. It did no help for Ron Wilkinson a full time no mad covered in rags. The man hadn't showered in days.

"You think we're gonna get out of here alive?" He asked looking up at Harry.

"I don't know man." Tony didn't pay attention, but instead watched the street. Now, a line of cars we're passing the bus all heading back the way the passengers had came.

"No," someone gasped.