3
A speed bump shot Riley awake. Quickly, she darted her head around, taking in her surroundings, looking how a cat would a laser pointer. She was still on the bus, still cramped in the far back corner between the wall and two strangers, wrapped up in blankets. They both looked like hell, staring blankly in front of themselves as if they were having a PTSD flashback.
She pulled out her phone, checking to see how long she was asleep for. 8:19 it said. She left her building around eight, and the soldier said the convention center was about fifteen to twenty minutes away, so there couldn't be too much time left until they got there.
Riley's mind flooded with thoughts of what might happen when the bus got there. Just how many other buses were going there? What would the conditions be? How long would they be there for? Would they go to someplace else after? If Riley was sitting anywhere past the middle mark of the bus, she would try and ask the soldier, but she was too far back. She didn't want to shout all the way up to the front, but she couldn't wave them down. The aisle was too flooded with bags that even a mole couldn't dig it's way through it.
Suddenly, the bus came to a screeching halt. Those who were sleeping lifted their heads from their windows and looked around, ready to pack up and hop off. Soon, the quiet bus became Grand Central Station. Neighbors began to chat, and everyone stood up, holding tightly to their bags, and formed a line to get off. Up ahead, Riley could see the soldier she was talking to earlier standing by the door, tilting his head onto his shoulder, listening into his walkie talkie. After a few seconds of listening, she could see he mouthed "copy that" and walked over to the driver, whispering something into his ear, who in turn nodded in approval. The soldier patted his shoulder and moved in the front of the line.
"Hey everyone!" he shouted, waving his hands in the air. "Can I have your attention please?" As if it was a tennis match, everyone's head shifted over to the soldier. "I'm sorry, but we're not getting off just yet. There's a bit of a blockade up ahead, and we're going to have wait a few minutes before we can get going again."
A groan fell over the crowd, and everyone dropped their bags and sat reluctantly in their seat. The bus was quiet again. They waited for a few minutes, and the soldier talked into his walkie talkie again. Riley could hear what he was saying, with no one talking anymore. He asked if everything was good, and then awaited a response. A voice popped out from the other side, saying "Yeah, we're all good here, you're good to go." in a very muffled voice. But before the soldier could give the driver the thumbs up, a shrieking came cackling out of the radio. Gunfire was obvious. The soldier stared blankly at his radio, occasionally squeaking into it, until after all the noise had gone, and the butchered voice came back on, and soon the bus was on the move again.
Another ten minutes passed by, and they still didn't get to their destination. The bus stopped every now and then, with the soldier going through the same actions as he did the first time: Stop the bus, check the radio, maybe hear a loud boom from it, and then move on. This happened for some time. She couldn't imagine why there was so much trouble getting there. There were no cars on the road after finally noticing this after playing with the fog on her window, drawing shapes and stick figures on it. So what could be the reason for stopping so much?
Apparently, she wasn't the only one with this question. Some complaints were already taking shape around the third or fourth time this happened. Riley even eavesdropped in on the conversation between the two people she sat next to, sympathizing with their opinion that a group of soldiers suddenly dropping in and forcing people onto buses and telling them virtually nothing is pretty suspicious. She could tell sooner or later, one white knight would call them out, and God help whoever that was. As skeptical as Riley was, she was not going up to ridicule a man with a machine gun.
It was the fifth stop that finally drove one man over the edge. As the soldier told the driver to hit the brakes until his say so, a man three seats in front of Riley stood up, clearing his throat to gain their attention. The two up ahead turned to him, not expecting anyone to say much of anything.
"Excuse me." the man said sternly. "But might I be the one to ask the question we all have on our minds?" The driver and soldier both raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, sure." the soldier said.
"Why have we been stopping on and off for the past half hour? You told us this place was fifteen minutes away, and I can assure you it's been more than that."
The soldier looked to the driver, and then back to the man, taking off his helmet and lifting up his facemask, showing off his messy stubble beard and sharp face. "I thought we made this clear from the beginning. A terrorist attack is in effect at the edge of town, and we need to move you all to a safe location so everything can be taken care of."
The man nodded. "Yes, I think we understood that part, but you are leaving much to the imagination. For starters, you haven't told us what these "terrorists" are even doing."
"I can't tell you. It's confidential."
"So what you're saying is, you wake us up and move us out of our homes, pack us up in cramped school buses, and take us to God knows where, and you don't even have the decency to tell us what we're up against? I think we all have the right to know."
"It's confidential."
"Do you hear yourself right now?" the man said. "This is happening all around us, and you have the balls to say that we're not aloud to know? I'm merely asking what is happening, and the way you're speaking, you're making it sound as if something suspicious is going on."
The soldier cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes at the man. "What? You think this is some tin foil hat type thing? That we're trying to sent you to Area 51 to run government tests on you? Why don't you just shut up and let us do our job, ok?" The soldier turned back to the driver, muttering to himself "Do I hear myself? Jesus Christ." He began speaking to driver, while Riley took a look at the man who chewed out the soldier. His face was red, frustrated with the way everything was going.
Riley went to the back of her mind, where she remembered seeing the man a couple seats ahead of her. He lived two apartments over from her, and he was pretty anally-retentive about things. She'd only met him a few times, but he was the type of guy who would ask to see the manager to complain about every flaw he had with whatever he was doing.
True to his nature, the man jumped up from his seat, and pushed past the two poor souls who were condemned to sit next to him. Marching with a pathetic furiosity, he made his way down the aisle, pushing past more people, until he was all the way at the front. Tapping on the soldier's shoulder. He turned around, rolling his eyes the instant he saw the man.
"Excuse me." he said.
"Sir, please sit down."
"I'm not happy with the way you're treating us, mister," he glared down the soldier's name tag. "Mister Dietrich. What's your rank?"
The soldier, Dietrich, rubbed his temples. "I'm a corporal."
"Ok, Corporal Dietrich." the man sneered. "I demand to speak to your CO."
"Sir, just please sit back in your seat. We're about the leave, and we're nearly there."
"No, I want off this bus. I don't care about whatever you say is going on, but I'm not a sheep, thank you very much. I won't just go on the word of some murdering soldier. Open the door, I'm leaving." the man pushed his arm past Dietrich and pulled on the lever, opening the door, and stepped out of the bus. Now, RIley could no longer see what was going on. If she wanted to see the end of this drama-fest, she would have to rely on her hearing.
"Sir, wait! Come back!" Dietrich called, stepping out of the bus as well. He grabbed ahold of the man's collar. "Sir, it's not safe out here. Please, for the love of God, get back on the bus."
Riley didn't hear the man respond, but she heard Dietrich shout again.
"Sir, look out behind you!" Everyone on the bus perked their heads up and began to move around the bus, but the driver, who was a rather portly man, pushed everyone back. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard, and everyone jumped. Not a word was heard from the man nor Dietrich, and everyone became worried. The driver looked out the window, and his eyes followed something moving. Slowly, he reached for the door lever, and pulled it open. The doors pulled back, and on came the stubborn man, slowly inching his way back on this bus. Looking like he'd seen things no man should see, he moved back to his seat, with dozens of pairs of eyes following him. Back at the front, Dietrich stepped back on too, looking less stressed than the man was. He nodded at the driver, he sat in his seat and began to drive off.