LORD OF THE BAND
~patronuswolf
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER ONE
James was furious at the tears streaming from his eyes, and wiped them away in a hurried action almost punching himself in the face. Zach was crouched in front of the front seat, almost crying for something to do. He never was one to sit idly, but he had to now, when so many of the people he was supposed to lead were on the life or death trail of a runaway bus. He threw a scared look at James, with strangely calm and wide eyes. Zach eyed the mutilated emergency brake, broken from one hurried and desperate attempt after another, yet again James pulled at the black knob frantically, but was without disappointment when it failed. It was harder for Zach to block out the soft crying of his band members in the back even than the closer more urgent and frantic screams of the colorguard and flute section. He held onto it like a dream, averted from all else, until that moment. James saw the chance and jumped on it. He stood up off the seat, and put what little effort he had left into steadying the trajectory. He sat back down, shouted something to the mass of wrenching bodies behind him - which all became immediately silent - lowered his head into his and braced himself.
SLAM.
Every single person was crammed up against the opposite side of their seat, a hundred bodies crunched up and broken that fell in between the seats and into the isle, but generally unharmed. While after a moment people began lifting their heads and looking around, hoping their fears of the worst were unabated, Jean was crawling ahead through the people, never averting her eyes from her goal. She pushed and slunk, saying exhausted sorries to every individual member of the bus, till she reached the few seats left, overflowing with teary colorguard members, all crouched low and almost glad with having an excuse to hold each other. Here, Jean screamed more in an attempt to part the mass than to what she saw next, which was more than a scream than the petrified look of fear. Behind her was another girl, who caught her, and told her to breathe, and while Jean gulped down delicious breaths of air, her own chest was on fire from the lacking.
James was thrown up against the steering wheel, his arms still under his head in such a way he looked like he was asleep, driven to rest his tormented mind after the weight of all these lives had been lifted. While his split lip dribbled dark blood all down his arms, the worse of the damage inflicted to him was the broken bone in his forearm, and the bruise on his skull from inflicting it. Jean pushed him back into the seat at an incline, and rested his head on her shoulder while she looked at him and cried. Zach had had the worst luck of the draw, and with nothing to hold onto in time, he had been thrown forward into the dashboard and his chin thrown into the air. His unconscious body fell down the small stairs where his soft head was again slammed into the glass doors which at the same time had shattered and sent little pieces of glass into his neck and back, so that he was partially impaled on the door.
The members in the back were rushing steadily toward the front, for it was their two who were up here, pushing out the colorguard who had just pieced together what happened and were trying to get there first to help out the two and likewise gain their affection. These two were the backbones of the band, the leaders, one official and the other one who had an authority over many from his experience and twisted humor. And while their friends desperately tried to reach them first, it was the inadept guard who had blocked the from reach. Ray's closest friend was up there dying, and she hated the colorguard with a passion. With no patience, she began throwing them out of the way, and unless they yield to her receive a punch in the face. The rest of the 'cool' bandmemberes trailed in her wake, observing the destructive power of their friend in a life or death situation.
Tears everywhere, Ray tripped over herself and got down to Zach, every second drowning away her hopes along with precious time itself. She kicked open the door after several tried, and picked up Zach and carried him out. He was much bigger than she, but the newfound strength made her forget that under his weight, physical and emotional, her arms and knees where going to break, her lungs were on fire, her head swimming and back twisting into a horrible knot. Yet she stood there, walking away from the wreck a few seconds later, and crying at his body where the placed it. She cherished the few moments alone with him and cried loudly until the rest of the band came swarming around with gasps and chokes.
Suddenly there was a dark screen around them, and they all turned around to see their bus filling with smoke, now abandoning Zach and Ray to their material things. Ryan knew how stupid he was, for remaining on the bus, but now he opened all the windows and was throwing every backpack, gym bag, clothing item and instrument case he could find out the right side windows. He did this on the relative back of the bus, therefore the colorguard ran on and gathered all their little things from the front and throwing them off in a likewise manner.
Ryan's friends were yelling at him frantically to get the hell out of there, as the smoke was consuming, but also he was receiving shouts from those else to not forget their stuff, who were subsequently punched by the friends. They gathered outside the window when he had finished, and he lowered himself out of the height window carefully with an effort, and after he placed his feet into the hands of awaiting members he shot a look back into the bus and saw something which made him stop. A glove. Or was it a hand with a glove on it? the arm, or what would have been was covered by the shadows and smoke, and he shouted, "Is there anyone missing?" While everyone looked around slowly, he screamed as loudly as he could, "IS ANYONE MISSING!?!" With no response he used those hands as a push off, kicking off at an arm that tried to pull him back out, and which tremendous effort, pulled himself back into the bus.
He fell back into the bus with a tumble, smacking his face head on into the side of a seat, and after a few seconds in that position he fell on to his back. This was calming, he thought. He could just go to sleep. He closed his eyes but at the last second, there was the glove. Now with a dazed curiosity he moved forward to it and touched it, and the glove held his hand. He pulled it off and a small hand appeared, and he pulled on it to reveal a small girl, the alto sax, well, the good one, and pulled her out from under the seat. She looked dizzy and confused also, but there was a certain fear in her eyes, and Ryan saw this and took her up in his arms, and being unable and unmotivated to move much, they were content to die. Outside, They began to throw rocks at the windows, and it woke them up into this vivid reality, dark and dull and now frantic, as the screams outside became. The good air left was being sucked out the window, making a clear pathway and they fallowed the wind. Weak and faraway, each simply fell out of the window into awaiting arms, coughing and sputtering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
note: this is only a rough draft...i wrote it the second i got up, so its
subject to change..._lots_ of change
~patronuswolf
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER ONE
James was furious at the tears streaming from his eyes, and wiped them away in a hurried action almost punching himself in the face. Zach was crouched in front of the front seat, almost crying for something to do. He never was one to sit idly, but he had to now, when so many of the people he was supposed to lead were on the life or death trail of a runaway bus. He threw a scared look at James, with strangely calm and wide eyes. Zach eyed the mutilated emergency brake, broken from one hurried and desperate attempt after another, yet again James pulled at the black knob frantically, but was without disappointment when it failed. It was harder for Zach to block out the soft crying of his band members in the back even than the closer more urgent and frantic screams of the colorguard and flute section. He held onto it like a dream, averted from all else, until that moment. James saw the chance and jumped on it. He stood up off the seat, and put what little effort he had left into steadying the trajectory. He sat back down, shouted something to the mass of wrenching bodies behind him - which all became immediately silent - lowered his head into his and braced himself.
SLAM.
Every single person was crammed up against the opposite side of their seat, a hundred bodies crunched up and broken that fell in between the seats and into the isle, but generally unharmed. While after a moment people began lifting their heads and looking around, hoping their fears of the worst were unabated, Jean was crawling ahead through the people, never averting her eyes from her goal. She pushed and slunk, saying exhausted sorries to every individual member of the bus, till she reached the few seats left, overflowing with teary colorguard members, all crouched low and almost glad with having an excuse to hold each other. Here, Jean screamed more in an attempt to part the mass than to what she saw next, which was more than a scream than the petrified look of fear. Behind her was another girl, who caught her, and told her to breathe, and while Jean gulped down delicious breaths of air, her own chest was on fire from the lacking.
James was thrown up against the steering wheel, his arms still under his head in such a way he looked like he was asleep, driven to rest his tormented mind after the weight of all these lives had been lifted. While his split lip dribbled dark blood all down his arms, the worse of the damage inflicted to him was the broken bone in his forearm, and the bruise on his skull from inflicting it. Jean pushed him back into the seat at an incline, and rested his head on her shoulder while she looked at him and cried. Zach had had the worst luck of the draw, and with nothing to hold onto in time, he had been thrown forward into the dashboard and his chin thrown into the air. His unconscious body fell down the small stairs where his soft head was again slammed into the glass doors which at the same time had shattered and sent little pieces of glass into his neck and back, so that he was partially impaled on the door.
The members in the back were rushing steadily toward the front, for it was their two who were up here, pushing out the colorguard who had just pieced together what happened and were trying to get there first to help out the two and likewise gain their affection. These two were the backbones of the band, the leaders, one official and the other one who had an authority over many from his experience and twisted humor. And while their friends desperately tried to reach them first, it was the inadept guard who had blocked the from reach. Ray's closest friend was up there dying, and she hated the colorguard with a passion. With no patience, she began throwing them out of the way, and unless they yield to her receive a punch in the face. The rest of the 'cool' bandmemberes trailed in her wake, observing the destructive power of their friend in a life or death situation.
Tears everywhere, Ray tripped over herself and got down to Zach, every second drowning away her hopes along with precious time itself. She kicked open the door after several tried, and picked up Zach and carried him out. He was much bigger than she, but the newfound strength made her forget that under his weight, physical and emotional, her arms and knees where going to break, her lungs were on fire, her head swimming and back twisting into a horrible knot. Yet she stood there, walking away from the wreck a few seconds later, and crying at his body where the placed it. She cherished the few moments alone with him and cried loudly until the rest of the band came swarming around with gasps and chokes.
Suddenly there was a dark screen around them, and they all turned around to see their bus filling with smoke, now abandoning Zach and Ray to their material things. Ryan knew how stupid he was, for remaining on the bus, but now he opened all the windows and was throwing every backpack, gym bag, clothing item and instrument case he could find out the right side windows. He did this on the relative back of the bus, therefore the colorguard ran on and gathered all their little things from the front and throwing them off in a likewise manner.
Ryan's friends were yelling at him frantically to get the hell out of there, as the smoke was consuming, but also he was receiving shouts from those else to not forget their stuff, who were subsequently punched by the friends. They gathered outside the window when he had finished, and he lowered himself out of the height window carefully with an effort, and after he placed his feet into the hands of awaiting members he shot a look back into the bus and saw something which made him stop. A glove. Or was it a hand with a glove on it? the arm, or what would have been was covered by the shadows and smoke, and he shouted, "Is there anyone missing?" While everyone looked around slowly, he screamed as loudly as he could, "IS ANYONE MISSING!?!" With no response he used those hands as a push off, kicking off at an arm that tried to pull him back out, and which tremendous effort, pulled himself back into the bus.
He fell back into the bus with a tumble, smacking his face head on into the side of a seat, and after a few seconds in that position he fell on to his back. This was calming, he thought. He could just go to sleep. He closed his eyes but at the last second, there was the glove. Now with a dazed curiosity he moved forward to it and touched it, and the glove held his hand. He pulled it off and a small hand appeared, and he pulled on it to reveal a small girl, the alto sax, well, the good one, and pulled her out from under the seat. She looked dizzy and confused also, but there was a certain fear in her eyes, and Ryan saw this and took her up in his arms, and being unable and unmotivated to move much, they were content to die. Outside, They began to throw rocks at the windows, and it woke them up into this vivid reality, dark and dull and now frantic, as the screams outside became. The good air left was being sucked out the window, making a clear pathway and they fallowed the wind. Weak and faraway, each simply fell out of the window into awaiting arms, coughing and sputtering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
note: this is only a rough draft...i wrote it the second i got up, so its
subject to change..._lots_ of change