Yellow, gray. Yellow, gray. Yellow...no, the interstate paint is yellow-gray...or maybe just the lane lines...
Keitaro Nagame was half-awake. No, scratch that...a quarter awake. It would probably be a major understatement at this point to say that 82 minutes of being on the road to the iconic Camp Buddy had done a number on him. His best friend Hiro, whom he had known for for the past 15 years (or since circa age 6, which was as far as his current memory could recall any moments of his life), was also slouched to the left a bit, snoring softly with his head on Keitaro's right shoulder. The energetic, orange-themed shota had tried to persuade Keitaro to stay awake through the whole 3 hour bus trip, but not after falling asleep himself within the very first of those hours.
Two seats ahead of the duo sat the proud and ever so muscular (at least for a 20 year old) Yoichi, who was tuned out listening to the latest music hits on his 6c phone. Now, scoutmaster Yoshi had specifically stated that cellular devices were frowned upon at the camp, but Yoichi, being himself, had taken this to mean that Yoshi simply hated forms of technology built after the final day of 1999. Nagame felt lucky, to say the absolute least, that the wolf-boy had actually minded his own business for this long, considering that the first thing he ever heard come out of Yoichi was complaints on how Keitaro had "slowed down" the trip by making the bus wait 2-3 minutes for him to finish dressing.
At the very back of the vehicle, right by the emergency doors, sat a trio of boys who Keitaro had found to be...intriguing, perhaps. A nerdy-looking kid, unknown to him as Lee, sat closest to the isle, taking a moment or so to adjust his large spectacles which he had worn ever since he was found to be dangerously near-sighted at a young age. Further to the left was the flame-haired Taiga, who was boasting about something Keitaro couldn't quite make out from his point on the bus, to a pink-headed teen, Eduard. Fitzpatrick had been through a long history of coming out as gay, considering that he was discriminated against regularly due to his feminine personality. His parents had sent him to Camp Buddy to escape his increasing perpetual depression that he always hid, not to mention also after learning that the campers already enrolled had been rumored to share their son's sexuality.
In a drowsy state, Keitaro continued to watch the telephone poles that followed the interstate about ten yards away the roadside. In order to keep himself as awake as he could, he began mentally noting everything that was detected by his five senses so far.
The curving wires, the blurred weeds and shrubs, the only two visible clouds, Lee chuckling at perhaps an amusing line in his book, Eduard's high pitched voice, the pungent smell of burning diesel fuel, the pungent smell of burning diesel fuel, the pungent...wait, that can't be right.
The speed limit for this section of road was 75 mph with a minimum of 45 mph, so scoutmaster Yoshi was startled when he had to slow the bus from 70 to 35! The pungent exhaust smell was now more prevalent than ever throughout the cabin, to the extent where Natsumi, the leader of the soon-to-be-campers, actually felt disgusted enough to pull his shirt over most of his face.
"Did that feces-colored hair guy just let one rip? Because oh my god, I can't! I just can't!", groaned Eduard.
"Calm yourself, Fitzpatrick", interrupted Yoshi, now leaning around his driver's seat and facing all the campers behind. "It's just a slow trucker up in front. He seems to be going under the minimum limit, so we'll be passing him on the left lane. Everything is fine."
"We're halfway to the camp, so relax yourselves and continue your interactions if you must", finished Natsumi with the last of his clean breath.
Keitaro turned his head slowly, as not to wake up Hiro, and looked out the right side of the bus. There, being overtaken by them, was the dirtiest, rustiest Peterbilt he had ever seen. Brownish-gray smoke belched from the exhaust column at a frightening rate, most likely being the cause for the foul smell everyone was complaining about. The only text on the vehicle was spelled in red capital letters, "FLAMMABLE".
Soon the bus was filled once again with fresh air, the idiot trio's chatter, and Hiro's soft snores. Keitaro watched as the trees and cacti flew by 70 miles an hour. The way everything blurred past was almost...art-like, he thought.
Yoshi was nowhere near an experienced driver. Well, at least not on the highway in a large bus moving at express train speeds, despite already being in his late twenties. Since he frequently felt like this while on the highway, he figured there was nothing better to do than put on some radio quiet enough for only him to hear. His fingers slid around on the dials.
Zzzzzzt-"A third consecutive win for the Miami Heat appears inevitable this seas-"-Zzzzzzzt-"So i've been hearing that the number of homosexual young men in America has almost doubled in the past few ye-"-Zzzzzzt-"Well, you know what? Then I said, 'Okay then, so I'll put it down-'"
The blonde scoutmaster was quickly taken aback when he saw a brown Peterbilt 281 overtake him and his campers on the left hand lane.
"Hey!", he barked ahead to the lorry. This actually worked, albeit a bit too well. Natsumi, Yoichi and the idiot trio were cut off from their previous conversations, and Hiro and Keitaro were roused from their sleep within seconds.
"What the hell, Yoshi! I was in the middle of dreaming!", Yoichi whined.
"I need a bit of concentration whilst reading, sir!", chimed in Lee.
"Be respectful, everyone!", Natsumi said sternly. "He is merely doing his job as the bus driver, and it can put stress on him at times."
Eduard was concerned. "Didn't we pass that fashionless brown hog already? Like seriously, rust is not a creative texture!"
"Everyone calm down!", yelled Yoshi. "I'll be letting the tanker overtake us."
"I need you all to retain your patience.", Natsumi finished. "Please find a way to entertain yourselves for the next hour and a half. You'll feel much better when we arrive. The camp truly is a marvel of nature."
As Natsumi continued his (now only somewhat effective) attempts to calm down the campers, Yoshi was losing patience with the ahead Peterbilt driver, who wouldn't seem to change his speed by a millimeter a second.
"I gave you the road, you jackass - why don't you take it? Why don't you go?", he fumed.
Just then, a hand reached out from the truck's driver area, and made a beckoning motion several times, as if to persuade the bus of campers to pass the semi for good.
Yoshi was relieved. "Well it's about time, Charlie!" He yelled out the window.
At that very moment, a white pickup came careening down the left lane, forcing him to turn the bus on a dime back behind the semi. This time, everyone had seen everything.
"Whoooooaaaahh!", gasped Hiro and Keitaro in unison.
"Oh my god!", screamed Eduard, before starting to shake like a cold puppy, at which point Taiga said "Shhhhhh..." and gave him a peck on the forehead.
"Yokatta yo...", shivered Natsumi.
"I don't believe it. I DON'T BELIEVE IT!", growled Yoshi, his usual motivational attitude now fully exhausted.
Just then, the almost-driven-insane scoutmaster noticed a brief dirt road that followed the main road for what looked to be about the next 300 yards.
"Okay then, mister perfect trucker," Yoshi began. "You wanna play games with Camp Buddy? Huh?"
"Brain-dead psycho!", Lee yelled at the top of his lungs out of his window. There wasn't a lot that could get the nerd triggered, but this truck driver was just a completely reckless jerk who clearly never took any driving test, although Lee only recently began driving his two friends around his own neighborhood.
Yoshi swerved onto the dirt path, fighting for control over the bus still going a good 50 miles an hour, even on the rugged terrain. His eyes darted in a perpetual triangle between the speedometer, the road and the old Peterbilt. This went on for a good half minute until the paths converged again as Yoshi rejoined the road...just ahead of the lorry.
"Yes, yes! Hahaha!", he chortled. Everyone was speechless.
Just to be extra safe, the scoutmaster turned around and looked back through the bus isle out the windows of the emergency doors. The truck driver was now nothing more than a pinprick. Yoshi could have sworn a 50 ton boulder had just been lifted off his head.
"That was...awesome, Mr. Yoshinori!", Natsumi complemented.
"That was sick, man! Almost as much as me!", added Taiga.
"Oh my god, you are such a prince charming today, sir!", finished Eduard.
Yoshinori smiled. "And we haven't even started camp yet. And speaking of camp, away with that phone, Yoichi!"
The wolf-boy cursed under his breath before giving into reason and deciding instead to start looking out the window.
A minute of casual conversation passed on the bus, now including Keitaro and Hiro. Then two minutes. Three. Four. Ten. Fifteen minutes after the terror had ended, everyone jumped. An earsplitting horn sounded through the bus, causing Hiro to yelp, Eduard to scream (again...), and Natsumi to let out a sudden "Agh!"
It was him. No, it was it.
A brown, 1960s Peterbilt was tailgating them by no more than seven yards.
Yoshi lost it.
"Oh please god almighty, no!"
By now, everyone except Taiga (Who thought the trucker simply wanted a race) was on the verge of a meltdown. Even the wise Natsumi, who was now sobbing silently in his seat, bent forward in the plane crash brace position.
Yoshinori valued everyone's life in the bus despite having just met them, perhaps even more so than his own.
He would keep Camp Buddy safe from closure for as long as he lived.
He began to floor it.
Everyone's heart raced faster than the Peterbilt itself. Keitaro embraced Hiro for perhaps the last time while he was still alive.
Once again, his eyes darted from the speedometer to the trucker to the road and back. He could only get half-second or so glimpses of his speed.
83, 84...
The bus rounded a curve. The idiot trio smashed against the windows. Eduard gripped Lee by the shoulders and caressed him until they decided to share their first and possibly last true kiss.
96, 97...
Yoichi curled into a ball on his seat. A pot hole sent him bouncing up, and he hit the bus floor with a painful thud. His entire left eye was blackened.
104, 105...
"HOW THE HELL IS HE GOING THIS FAST?", Yoshinori screamed out loud.
The Peterbilt rammed into the back of the bus. The windows on the emergency doors shattered instantly. The 100 mile an hour wind roared into the cabin. Lee's glasses flew up, hit the ceiling, shattered, and flew out the broken windows, gone forever, all within three seconds.
121, 122...
10 miles remained to Camp Buddy. Then he saw it.
Gunnison, Colorado, their halfway-point rest stop.
He slammed the brakes and swerved off to the left, careening through the parking lot, and crashing sideways into a chain link fence that surrounded the town airport.
80, 60, 40, 25...
The Peterbilt trucker sped ahead at triple digit speeds for over a half mile into the busy town, but slammed on the brakes himself when two Police SUV's gave chase.
Everyone limped out of the bus. Without his glasses, Lee walked right into Hiro and they toppled over one final time.
"Ten more miles to go...if the bus still worked...", Yoshi said before fainting completely.
Everyone knew that he would be fine, just like how Mrs. Yuri always recovered from her own fainting spells. However, they'd all be stuck at Gunnison for a day or two, at least until a new bus came.
But for now, everyone was just happy that they would never again have to experience this..."duel".
