The bus. 9:36 AM
School trips. They were always fun weren't they? Especially when you were leaving for another country. The excitement, the joy. Yeah right. Geoff Deeps sat moodily at one window of the bus, towards the front as usual, with his two best friends both nearby. Peter Scheimer looked asleep at this point, his head lolling back, his broad chest slowly rising and falling. Across the way Deacon 'Deak' Perez was sprawled all over the pair of seats. It didn't really matter; the bus was so big that almost every student could have had a pair of seats to themselves. It was weird, having so much space in a bus; all three boys were used to being in one of the cramped school minibuses. This was a far cry from one of those.
If it hadn't been absolutely compulsory (and even then, Geoff would have liked to bet he could have managed to get out of it) and his two friends hadn't pretty much coerced him into coming along until he caved – almost entirely to get them shut up, Geoff wouldn't have been on this trip in a million years. Camping? Please. At least it was better than the alternatives, but Geoff still firmly believed it would have been possible to avoid going away entirely. He wasn't a particularly social person, and this was going to stretch his patience to the breaking point. He couldn't handle huge amounts of contact with his peers, mostly because there were only a few who he was able to talk to without getting a sudden urge to smack upside of the head for being either a moron or annoying.
Geoff knew that he himself was hardly perfect. He wasn't overly athletic and had far too much cynicism to be easy to get on with. He also delighted in causing trouble – not in a bullying others and deliberate disruption type of way, rather pulling anonymous pranks and retreating to survey the hilarity that ensued when they succeeded. Not many people found it easy to like Geoff, as he was rather standoffish and had a tendency to rebuke those who approached him. Add to that a penchant for making cutting remarks at the expense of others and you had somebody who not only enjoyed few firm friendships but liked it better that way too.
"Why the long face Geoff?" a friendly voice called out from a couple of seats in front of him, startling Geoff and making him look up, realising in the process he did have a rather dark look on his face. Leaning out to look down the aisle (to check on the rest of the class undoubtedly) was one of the class's supervisors, Mr. Braham. "Come on, cheer up. I know you didn't really want to come with us, but look at it like an adventure. How many times are you going to get to come way out into the countryside in your life?"
None after this, if I can help it. Geoff answered silently, but didn't vocalise. He liked Mr. Braham, he was a lot younger than most teachers, in some cases less than five years the senior of his students. Geoff knew he was friends with a fair few of his classmates outside of high school too. He had a manner that made you try and improve – nobody liked letting him down. He wouldn't yell, he would just get incredibly disappointed, and that was even worse. Although Geoff barely ever saw Mr. Braham when he wasn't in class, he counted him as a friend. Way back when Mr. Braham had first become their class's teacher, Geoff had been delighted to discover that he actually understood his sense of humour (something which got him in no end of trouble in other subjects). From there, they had established a sort of rapport, although Geoff paid careful mind to avoiding going too far.
"I love the countryside Mr. Bram," Geoff replied, using the nickname that almost everybody in the class did for their teacher. "As long as it stays outside, behind a window, where it belongs," Mr. Braham chuckled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and regarding Geoff over the top of them with a smile on his face.
"I suppose we'll just have to find a window to install in your tent then," Mr. Braham told Geoff before returning to his seat to talk to the other supervisor who had accompanied the group. Mr. Hanks (although few people ever used his honorific outside of his earshot). Hanks was a stickler for both rules and formalities, and that most certainly didn't endear him to the students under his tutelage. He was rather old, especially when set alongside the youthful Mr. Braham. It was often joked that the reason he had such a chip on his shoulder about rules was that he missed the days when he was still allowed to hit children when they acted up. Instead he compensated by hitting the kids with every obscure and irritating rule he could, just to get the satisfaction of doling out reprimands and punishments. Geoff and Hanks often butted heads, and the student had a firm suspicion that Hanks had a personal grudge against him. Geoff retaliated to the ridiculously pedantic and fastidious rules he was supposedly violating by declaring war, setting up and pulling off all sorts of pranks on the teacher. Hanks knew exactly who his tormentor was, but couldn't punish him without justification, so he invented some, and so the cycle continued. Fortunately Geoff was able to avoid the majority of Hanks' rules whilst on the trip, so their struggle had been more or less put on hold.
Geoff shifted in his seat and looked over at Peter Scheimer, sitting across from him, just behind Deak Perez. Geoff could tell for certain now that his friend had fallen asleep, and he watched him breathing heavily for a few moments. His clothes, lap and immediate vicinity were all covered in crumbs from some snack that he had demolished in the last few hours since embarking on the coach. Geoff smiled as he thought on his friend's prodigious appetite, which really beggared belief until it was seen. Really, the amount of food Peter could put away was simply astonishing, even given the size of the somewhat overweight boy's stomach. Still, everybody had their vices, and for Peter it was eating.
It was an odd friendship the pair enjoyed (along with Deak). If you were ever to ask Peter why he liked Geoff so much he would never be able to tell you precisely why, especially since he was often the butt of Geoff's barbed comments. Peter had thick skin though, and a huge capacity for being able to simply forget and forgive, which Geoff had had cause to be thankful time and time again during the time they'd known one another. All too many times Geoff would talk without thinking first, and he was grateful for Peter's ability to be able to shrug off almost any insult.
Large stomach? Maybe, but he had a heart to match.
Somebody else with a big heart was Geoff's other best friend, Deak Perez. He wasn't perhaps the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he took everything with good humour and was definitely the sort of guy you'd want watching your back. Geoff looked at the pair of them, Peter sleeping and Deak staring out of the window at the countryside going past them, and smiled to himself, settling back down in his seat. Perhaps... perhaps this wouldn't turn out so bad after all.
"You know, Peter looks kinda cute when he's asleep," Sarah Beau turned to her friend Chantal Villiers and looked at her incredulously. Chantal was looking down the bus to where Peter's slumbering form could be made out, half slumped in the aisle due to the awkward position in which he'd fallen asleep. Both girls were part of the popular crowd, Chantal a cheerleader, but avoided being bitchy or malicious simply because they weren't like that. The class had its share of conflicts and assholes, but the majority of the students were just plain nice people.
"I don't understand you. C'mon you rejected him just the other day, what's changed your mind now?"
"What's this?" Callie Keller, the third member of the trio of close-knit girls, leaned in to listen to what was being said. Callie was almost inarguably the best-looking girl out of the entire class, and she held a place on the cheerleading team too. Simultaneously she was probably the nicest person to go along with it, also willing to listen to somebody's problems, help them out or break up a fight. Chantal giggled, waving a hand dismissively in some kind of casual denial.
"Scheimer asked me out the other day, and I kinda turned him down. But you know, just because I've noticed that he's actually quite a nice guy doesn't mean I want to go out on a date with him. Peter isn't my type," Nobody was Chantal's type apparently, since she had rejected (some gently, some less so) every single person who had ever approached her to ask for a date. Heck, she'd never even acted slightly interested in dating. It was odd, because Chantal was pretty enough (even if she only boasted a slightly above average figure) to attract plenty of attention, and you would think out of all the guys that came on to her, one of them must have been Mr. Right, or at least good enough for her. Most weren't sure whether dating just didn't interest her or if she just had incredibly high (and unrealistic) standards.
"Yeah but you don't really notice that he's not actually that bad because he's always going around with that dreamboat Deacon Perez and that weird kid Geoff Deeps," Callie pondered this for a moment, then shook her head at Sarah's confident statement. Most of the class saw Geoff as one the more odd students, up there with Henry Kallen in terms of being more than a little peculiar. Then again where Geoff was sarcastic and slightly brooding, Henry was a little bonkers, being a total conspiracy nut, and were he Japanese, he would definitely be referred to as an otaku. Callie couldn't see him right now, but presumably he was up to his usual strange antics. (actually, he was lying on the floor underneath some unoccupied seats, surfing the internet on his laptop). Soon thereafter, Callie voiced her opinion.
"Geoff isn't weird, he's just quiet, shy I think. You should see him when he's just with his friends, apparently he's real nice," Sarah scoffed, giving Chantal a meaningful look which evinced a snigger from the other.
"Who told you that? Deacon?" Callie reddened and Chantal winked at her. "Yeah we both know, but I gotta say you've done a great job of keeping it secret. Wow, you're going out with the most handsome guy in the year… makes you wonder what he sees in you," all three girls dissolved into helpless laughter.
Closer to the centre of the bus, there was an accumulation of girls – mostly gathered around class president Rebecca Dase. She was definitely part of the popular crowd of the class, with plenty of friends to have a good time with, although she took work a little too seriously for her own good at times. Currently, Rebecca was taking part in a somewhat heated discussion with her rival slash best friend Kate Sael, whom she clashed heads with on numerous occasions, though considering they both were avid debaters and had rather different views on many issues, this was hardly a surprise. One of the few boys there was student council member Rory Marks, who was watching proceedings with a small smile on his face. Rory was pretty shy, but he was a sweet, considerate kid and acted as a good buffer between Rebbeca and Kate if things got a little too heated.
"My point is-"
"If you'd just let me finish-"
They both spoke simultaneously, then paused for a moment, lockings eyes with each other, before bursting out with laughter, Rebecca and Kate both breaking out in giggling. Although it was true that each of them were very passionate on certain issues, they never took things too far – it was more of an intellectual wrestling match, trying to throw the other on their back and force them to concede defeat. They were an oddly matched pair for sure, at least in personalities, with Rebecca tending to take a more intellectual, analytical viewpoint, whereas Kate was fiery and stubborn, relying on a clear sense of what was right and wrong to carry her through discussions, although sometimes, they almost seemed to switch around. Both were pretty enough, but Kate undeniably had the looks that killed, ranking right up there alongside Callie Keller and Mari Laret as far as appearances went . Still, her general uncompromising attitude tended to alienate her a little, and as well as a somewhat superior manner, this put paid to the majority of her chances for actually securing a date.
"Well, as I was saying..." Rebecca began, quickly being cut off before the debate once again began in earnest.
"I beat the living hell out of Sammar; I took on Walle and won one time. You name 'em, I've battered 'em. Come on Cameron admit it, I'm the toughest guy in our entire year," as per usual Brian De Viet was being loud, brash and arrogant. His little 'clique' occupied all seven seats of the back row. Brian himself was lying across three of them. A smile played across his friend Cameron Tallem's face. People always asked Cameron why he had such an obnoxious guy for his best friend, and although Cameron never truly answered, everybody knew that there had to be something. It was odd really, because the pair couldn't be much more different. Cameron was a pretty nice guy, even if he did have his asshole moments, but Brian was simply insufferable, next-to impossible to get along with. The black football player was probably Brian's only real friend in their class – all of the others were either toadies or only affiliated with him for their own benefit.
"You never battered me," Elliot Naig muttered beside him. Elliot was huge, he stood at least five inches taller than the next biggest guy in the class, and this gave Brian cause to laugh nervously. Elliot, whilst not particularly friendly, rarely if ever joined in with the tormenting of his fellows, mostly in Brian's group as some much needed muscle for those inevitable occasions when they clashed with their rivals. Brian De Viet and Andrew Kay were the focal points of the conflict, both gunning for exactly the same position on the team, and neither wanting to be second choice. (well, it was more a case of Kay being better and Brian not being able to admit it) which, over time, had drawn in more and more of the football players in, to the point where very few remained neutral. Thankfully only a few people from each group were on the trip, so the type of fights which usually accompanied occasions where Brian and Kay were in close proximity would be largely averted. Quite why Elliot stuck with Brian was most certainly up for discussion, especially since he seemed the type to take the stance of Walle (staying out of the conflict) on the divide in the football team. However, for better or worse, Elliot was one of Brian's guys, and the clique looked a whole lot tougher for it.
"Well obviously I wasn't talking about my friends. Why would I want to put them through the humiliation of getting beat up by me?" Elliot snorted derisively and turned away dismissively, closing his eyes and taking on the semblance of somebody trying to go to sleep. Kieran McKay and his girlfriend Victoria 'Vicky' Hans both found cause to snigger. Kieran was something of a lackey with a tongue which was altogether too quick for his own good, and although he held down a position on the football team comfortably, wasn't really somebody you'd want at your side in a scrap. He'd latched onto Brian as a hanger-on, but he was swift to side against him (at least amongst members of his own gang) if a laugh was to be made from it. This didn't endear him to Brian particularly, but the footballer suffered his presence to supplement the numbers of his group.
Vicky wasn't much different, asides from the footballing aspect, though she was mostly in Brian's clique as an extension of having Kieran there. She was overly snide at most times, and definitely gelled well with her boyfriend – they had similar minds, that was for sure.
"Shut the fuck up!" Brian snapped. He was naturally bad tempered, and he hated being wound up, especially by his own 'friends' -he liked to feel in control of a situation, and people teasing him stood as a big blow to his ego. Kieran smiled at him sweetly and leant back into his chair. It was ironic that most of those that hung around with Brian didn't actually like him. In all fairness, most of those on Brian's 'side' were there because they liked his friend Cameron, either that or preferred him to Kay. De Viet was lucky indeed in his few friends.
The sharp shout carried closer to the front of the bus, to a pocket of silence where an entire small area of the bus was inhabited by a single person. Sebastian Walle was not a guy to be messed with, a fact which was common knowledge to everybody in the year. He wouldn't put on an air of bravado, he wouldn't make threats or bandy words with you, he would just beat you up. If you pissed him off. But the guy was a law unto himself – sometimes he would stick up for other people and others simply watch the harassment. Walle was one of the bigger guys in the class, and featured in both the football and wrestling teams for the school. In fact, he was one of the few who didn't fall into the distinct division within the team (although the numbers of both groups actually on the trip were rather low) and he planned on keeping it that way. He'd been approached numerous times by various members of each group and every time, he'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that he didn't give a damn about who had the captaincy as long as he got to participate. Walle knew that people were wary around him and didn't much care, he preferred to be able to do things on his own terms, rather than those set by others. As one might imagine, this dropped him in a lot of trouble at school too. Walle let the sounds wash over him and sat impassively. Would this be a good trip? Maybe, it depended whether or not anybody decided to challenge him again.
Further forward from Sarah Beau and the rest of her group, one entire row of six was occupied by a group of girls, and one boy who was decidedly unwelcome but didn't seem to want to take the hint. Almost all of the girls had a rather bad reputation amongst the rest of the students on the trip, each of them knew it, and none of them cared. So what if they were the clichéd 'bad girls'? The fact of the matter was that they were in control of the running of their grade. If anybody took exception they'd soon be put right...
Alaina Carr was the undisputed leader of their group, with a mean streak a mile wide and a punch like a heavyweight boxer. She watched two of the other members of her gang attempting to remove the interloper, but meeting without success. Alaina wondered who long it would be before they asked her to sort things out. Cathie Willis and Sophie O'Brien were the next in the pecking order, each of them always attempting to secure their position as the head lieutenant, so to speak. Neither of them realised that Alaina preferred it when they were always competing with each other, it got better results then co-operation a great deal of the time. And if teamwork was necessary, then Alaina could force them to work together; nobody messed with her.
Christie Lauren was the next of the gang. Well, in so much as she didn't seem to mind being classed as 'in the gang'. Sure she hung around with Alaina and the others, but Christie never seemed to want to participate in any of their schemes or plans to derail the others. Alaina wasn't scared of her per se, more wary. After all who wouldn't exercise caution around somebody who was an expert in Tae kwon-do? Ever since Christie had taken out Brian De Viet in about five seconds everybody had begun to give her a wide berth; and that was the way she liked it. Jackie McDonn, the final member of Alaina's group, was simply a hanger on, who had joined once she saw they were the winning horse. For Alaina, Jackie was just about useful enough not to drive away. Still, there were several viable replacements...
Felix Mason ignored the exhortations of the two girls seated next to him and simply adjusted his headphones, continuing to listen to his music. Felix couldn't care less about the cliques and social groups of their year, which hadn't exactly endeared him to those such as Brian's crew and Alaina's gang, who believed there had to be groups. Expressing his particular views (with some choice words) to one such group (the 'tough guys') had made Felix the beneficiary of a broken arm, which even now was still stuck in a sling. Ever since they had occupied the seats next to him the 'AC Gang' had been attempting to dislodge him. Felix hadn't given up to begin with, so he now consigned himself to the long haul; he either had to concede straight away or not at all. Settling down, Felix blocked out the snide voices and insults and concentrated on the beat.
Seated in a hunched position, so as to expose as little of his large frame as possible to any projectiles that might be thrown at him, Tom Sammar clenched his teeth to hold back the tears. Twice already Brian De Viet and other members of his group had managed to hit him with their attacks: the first of them a hard apple, and the second an extremely runny banana. Tom was known as the whipping boy of pretty much the entire grade: big but not too bright, easy to anger, Tom was easy meat for the so-called bullies of the year. Tom hunkered down further as something unidentifiable splattered onto the seat in front of him. This trip was going to be a living hell. He contemplated killing himself now and getting the torment over with… He was surprised to feel a hand land on his shoulder, and he jumped despite himself. Tom sighed inwardly and readied himself for more torment – just up close and personal this time. He looked around, the hand belonged to the diminutive Dan Shaw, who was leaning from across the aisle. Dan was kinda pudgy, but for all of his weight issues, managed to hold down a place on the baseball team well enough. He was almost a fish out of water on the trip; pretty much none of his sporting counterparts had come along on the camping outing with him. Tom's surprise grew when he saw Dan smiling friendly. True, Dan didn't rank up amongst his usual bullies, but Tom had come to assume that more or less everyone was just waiting for a chance to pick on him. Furthermore, Tom and Dan didn't know each other – what other reason would there be for the contact?
"Look, don't mind De Viet and his cronies, they're just a bunch of assholes. They don't know jack about how things work, and from where I'm standing, you're a better man than any of them will ever be," Tom blinked, unsure of what to say. He barely remembered the last time somebody had taken the time to be nice to him. "Now come on – sit by me, we'll play cards or something. Don't worry if you don't know any games; I'll show you how to play," still not quite believing what had happened, Tom got up briefly to go and sit by Dan. The smaller boy beamed and began shuffling a deck of cards, launching into an explanation of a game. Tom allowed himself a weak half smile. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad.
From the centre of the bus James Andrews was conducting some boisterous singing, along with his best friend Chris Zuce. It was pretty simple stuff, but when you have been confined to a bus for two hours, with another six still to come, you welcomed any distraction that you could get. Eventually the singing petered out and the pair of them sat back in their seats, smiles on their faces. Chris was the male class representative, just about as clever as you could get, and extremely popular. In many ways, he was a veritable Mr. Perfect – he was good at sports, his grades were beyond belief, and he was a nice guy to boot, barely a person in the class would have a bad thing to say about Chris. James (and it had to be James, he hated anybody shortening it) was very much the same as far popularity went, though he was a lot less intense when it came to studying and his schoolwork. Smiling to himself, the class representative turned to his friend and leaned in close, in order to be heard over the chatter resounding throughout the bus.
"You know James; I think we might be in for the time of our lives,"
There was an abrupt bang, and the bus suddenly skewed wildly, fish-tailing as the driver wrestled with the wheel, attempting to get the vehicle under control. There was a horrible screeching sound, and smoke began rising from the wheels of the bus, due to a hard application of the breaks. In the seating area of the bus, students were thrown all over the place - Brian De Viet was hurled clean off the backseat and landed with a crash and a curse, some halfway down the aisle. Henry Kallen was dislodged from his place underneath the seat, and slid forwards rapidly (much to the surprise of those seated in the areas he passed through). He emerged from the seating with a cry and swept the legs of Hanks, who had stood up to get a better view of what was going on, out from underneath him. The rotund disciplinarian fell flat on his generous behind with a yelp, accompanied by quite the thud. Clinging to his seat by the armrest, Geoff Deeps found the time for a private chuckle at the expense of his enemy.
Finally, the bus ground to a painstaking halt, the screech of tortured metal scraping along hard ground letting up at long last. There was a brief moment of stunned silence, and then hysterical babbling broke out amongst the students. Mr. Braham located his glasses from where they had been dislodged following the strange incident, and putting them on, stood up to calm down the class. Meanwhile, the driver hopped out of the bus to find out just what had happened.
"All according to plan. The stingers worked perfectly,"
"Then let's get in there and finish this as quickly as possible, we have a schedule to keep to. A tight schedule,"
"I know what I'm doing Zeek, you don't need to babysit me,"
"Heh, sorry, habit,"
The driver knelt down alongside the front wheel of the bus. The tyre was a complete mess. It was as if he'd run over something with a ridiculous number of spikes on it. However, by the way he'd lost all traction, he suspected that it wasn't only this wheel which had fallen victim. What, then, had he hit? It didn't make any sense... He stood, moving towards the rear of the vehicle to check if the same fate had befallen the back two tyres as well. The driver made it about halfway there before he heard an odd sound which he could describe only as 'thwack'. Suddenly, all energy left him, and he stumbled against the side of the bus, sliding into a sitting up position. Faltering, his hand went to his neck, where he felt a strange wetness. His fingers came away bloody. Still not knowing exactly what happened, the driver fell sideways, his skull hitting the road with a crack.
"What kind of a shot was that? You hit him in the throat!"
"Oh shut up, he's dead isn't he? Now get moving!"
"Tch, sloppy. Alright, here goes, I'll take the front!"
A pair of fist-sized objects smashed through the windows of the bus, landing at the back and approximate centre of the vehicle respectively. Both immediately began pumping out billowing clouds of thick, noxious gas, restricting vision to the point where those inside could barely see their hands in front of their faces. Not that they had much opportunity to try and peer through the fog – most of the bus was incapacitated in a matter of moments from the potent knockout gas.
"What the hell Alexis? You tell me off for MY shooting when you can't even put a canister through a window?"
"The difference being that I am not supposed to be an expert with a grenade launcher!"
"Alright! Point taken! But we'll argue it after this has been dealt with!"
One of the furthest forward seated on the bus, Deak Perez was out of the immediate range of the gas, and quickly dived out of his seat to avoid the rapidly-expanding cloud. He took a nervous glance back and soon saw that the entirety of the vehicle (barring the driver's compartment) was engulfed in the knockout gas. It had fallen almost deathly silent. Hanks barged past the slightly Henry Kallen, knocking him flying to be the first to the exit of the bus. Deak took a hesitant step forward, then froze on the spot when he saw two figures, clad in black and wielding compact MP5's approaching the bus from the edges of the road.
"Excellent!" Hanks boomed. "You can help me – we've been attacked by-" Deak saw one of the sub-machine guns come up and his heart seemed to stop. Henry was still standing, dazed, in the doorway of the bus, directly behind Hanks, who was having a gun pointed straight at his- Deak lunged forwards, snagging Henry by the collar of his shirt and heaving him backwards, the kid letting out a surprised yelp as a burst of fully-automatic fire was unleashed. Hanks was hit clean in the head and tumbled out of the bus, landing face first on the road. The remaining bullets raked the driver's compartment, smashing the forward most windows and riddling the far side of that part of the bus with holes, just where Henry had been standing seconds before.
"Boom, headshot. Satisfied now?"
"Not until we've dealt with that group at the front!"
"Jeez, keep your panties on- actually, on second thoughts, don'OW!"
"Canister! Launch it! Now!"
Grumbling under his breath and rubbing his ear ruefully, Zeek raised his compact grenade launcher and fired off a round through the space where the bus' front window had been. In moments, the remainder of the vehicle disappeared underneath a veil of gas. The last few shrouded figures collapsed. Although you couldn't see it underneath his gasmask Zeek smiled.
"Night, night kids, don't let the bedbugs bite," Alexis chuckled, hearing her partner, all of her anxiety dissipated now that the mission had been taken care of, or at least, their part in it. Alexis was an excellent soldier, but the nerves got to her almost every time, getting worse as her tasks continued. Still, she couldn't be blamed for feeling a little apprehensive: it had been made clear in no uncertain terms what would happen if they screwed up.
"They're going to have a hell of a lot more to worry about then bedbugs Zeek," Alexis keyed her long range radio. "We've got them out for the count, how 'bout bringing that chopper in Dex?"