by Kevin Jusino
I don’t let myself think about the possibilities too much.
I give up trying to keep track of time, and it makes me long for the comfort of technology. I’d be able to talk to everyone I left behind, see if Mom’s okay. Hell, I’m sure I’d get a whole lot more answers from a single internet search than any of these soldiers have given us.
Corey fell asleep not too long after we left the rest stop; he lays on the corner seat, curled up peacefully. His pureness feels out of place with what I know—and it hits me hard that he doesn’t belong here. None of us do. Still, I let him rest, knowing that wherever he goes in his dreams must be better than anything the waking world can currently offer.
But, like always, our spare moments of peace must come to an end.
Eventually, the vast canyons and gorges surrounding the roads we drift through flatten out into fields and forests leading up to a snow-capped range of mountains. In the distance, I can see the tops of tall buildings peeking out over the treetops, near the base of the mountains. There’s a series of crackling noises from Sergeant Day’s radio—we’re too far back for me to listen in—before she stands up to address us once again.
“Listen up, everyone!” she says, her voice loud and clear.
A few of the kids jump in their seats, most of them having dozed off with the rest. Corey blinks his eyes open, his face filled with startled fear, before he sees my smile and it disappears. I motion for him to scoot closer as Sergeant Day begins to speak.
“We’re a little more than halfway to our destination now,” she continues. “I know you’re all itching to get off this bus already, so I thank you for your cooperation. However, we’re about to go through the city up ahead. Now, some of you may be tempted by the sight of civilization, but do not be fooled; the city is not safe. We’ll be going through the safest streets as directed by our sources, and avoiding any contact with civilians. Sit tight, everyone, and we’ll get through this easily.”
She sits down again, and a low current of chatter circles through the bus. I feel my own nerves spark as I remember what our own city looked like back home: the broken windows and raided shops. What will such a bustling hub like this one look like in comparison?
I doubt the people will be very welcoming, especially if we’re riding in on working buses into a silenced city. Considering the fact that the government has been a bit short on answers lately, we may as well be waving flags and shouting: Look guys, we’re over here!
“This could be our next chance, guys” Henry says, clearly restless as his knees can’t seem to stop bouncing. “We might not get another one.”
Cacy shifts nervously in her seat. “I don’t know…I’ve never really liked big cities in the first place, I’m not sure how I feel about post-apocalyptic ones. Could it really be any safer than staying on the bus?”
“It makes me nervous as well,” Rachel adds, apparently listening to her emotions more than calculations this time around. “Large populations always have higher crime rates. With the added aspect of virtually no police force, there’s no telling how volatile the people here could be towards us.”
Well, maybe I spoke too soon.
I don’t offer my own opinion; to be fair, I haven’t really even formed one yet. For one, this does seem like a pretty good chance to take control of the bus. We’d be in the city with more people, which makes me feel better than getting stranded in the middle of nowhere, and yet it’s practically the same considering we’d have nowhere to go or anyone to trust.
It’s safer to stick with these soldiers for now, and see how it plays out once we arrive to our so-called “destination”.
I can feel the nervous energy in the air as we come closer and closer to the city, the road eventually surrounded with houses and small shops as we enter the surrounding suburban area. I wonder how many of the homes here are still occupied, and if their children have been ripped away from their arms as well. Maybe we could find someone to help us here.
Still, there would be no way for us to get back without a car, and I’m assuming this bus won’t have enough gas to last for much longer. Once again, we’d be left stranded.
The world seems to go still as we zone in on the central hub of the city. My eyes scan every inch of our surroundings for some kind of sign of danger, but just like every other place, it seems to be mostly empty. The bus has to slow down quite a bit though, since whatever it was that swept the cars to the sides of the roads apparently missed a few, and it has to carefully curve around them before carrying on.
We’ve just barely left the suburbs when we come across the first group of people.
At first, they’re nothing but dots in the distance, hovering around the side of the highway. As the bus moves closer, I realize that they’re actual people; three of them dart around the dead cars, probably searching for supplies. They spot us right away, and the surge of excitement I first felt—they’re people…actual, normal people and not soldiers or aliens—is replaced with a wary feeling of fear. Are they sitting in ambush? Will my fears about our arrival into the city come true?
Luckily, they don’t.
At least not yet.
Everyone seems to hold a collective breath as we pass by them. The heavy tint in the windows makes it hard to get a clear view of them, but the shock on their faces is unmistakable. What worries me more is the dark circles under their eyes, the bloody scrapes and bruises on their skin, the way they look like they’re on their last wits.
And the fact that one of them is holding a rifle.
“Things must have gone to shit faster than we thought,” Henry mutters as we leave the survivors behind.
“Maybe they just wanted to make sure they were safe…” Cacy says. I don’t think she’s even able to convince herself. “This is so horrible.”
Even the sky seems to be contributing to the ominous mood, as it has shifted from a bright, piercing blue into a shade of gloomy crimson-tinged grey. The tall buildings ahead block out the sun, so the city streets are swept in curtains of shadow, enveloping the bus in darkness as we pass through the block. For a few seconds, all I can hear is my own breathing.
Then the bus crashes.
No, it doesn’t crash, only the front windshield shatters into a million shards. There’s a tiny hole at the bottom left section. I think its a bullet hole…wait, yes it is because the bus driver lies slumped over, his head on the steering wheel, blood pouring out of a wound in his head. There’s screaming and what I think are more gunshots, but all I can focus on is the impossibly loud blood pulsing in my ears. I can’t stop staring at the driver’s dead body, the way an expanding pool of red liquid surrounds the seat, if that’s what it looked like when my father died, if that’s what will happen to—
“Zoey!”
Everything snaps back into focus and I can suddenly hear again. The face right in front of me is nothing but a blurry mess, but it comes into focus after a few blinks. Cacy stares back at me, her faced etched with so many emotions of panic and fear I can’t keep track of how many times they change.
The scene around us is utter chaos.
Cries and screams fill the air, making it hard to concentrate. I think I hear more gunshots too, but I can’t tell if they’re real or not. Sergeant Day and the other soldier are nowhere to be found, and I realize that the doors to the bus have opened; we’re not moving anymore. A remnant memory of what Sergeant Day had said about “never stopping” floats through my brain and I almost laugh, but now there’s someone else yelling: it’s Henry. He’s saying something to me—what is he saying?
“The gun!”
Oh.
Right.
We’re probably being attacked, in which case that should be pretty useful. If only I could find a way to get my arms to move again…
Cacy doesn’t waste any time. She’s already digging through my bag by the time I force my fingers to start twitching, tearing open the stitches on the back of the teddy bear by the time I can start breathing normally again. I r
eel back as the dim lights reflect off of the gun’s surface, another wave of panic threatening to take control of my body.
While I try to scoot away, I spot Corey. He’s curled up behind the seats in front of us, silent tears running down his cheeks as he looks up at us with wide, fearful eyes. I promise nothing bad will happen to you, was what I had told him before.
I take the gun from Cacy as she gingerly tries to find the safety, holding it like one would a skunk that could spray its toxic fumes at any second. It’s still cool to the touch—surprising, considering that it’s been encased in stuffing for the last few hours. With slow, steady breaths, I remind myself to stay calm. I have the power here.
Letting out a slow breath, I turn the safety off.
…Right as a man holding another rifle walks onto the bus.
I don’t wait for the worst to happen. I just aim, squint, and fire. The sound may as well be an atomic bomb, and a million horrifying images immediately find their way into my brain, but I push them away. A split second later, there’s a shattering sound as my bullet breaks one of the lightbulbs next to the door, a few inches away from where the man stands.
He turns towards me immediately, and I wonder if this is where it ends. If this is where I get to meet Dad again, ask him everything I didn’t get the chance to ask, tell him everything I’ve been dying to tell him. Only I don’t get the chance, because instead of shooting me dead within an instant, he gives me a single glance before holding up his hands in surrender.
“Don’t shoot!” he shouts. “We’re not here to hurt you…we’re here to rescue you.”
Well then.
That certainly changes things.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I DON’T LOWER my gun.
“Who are you?” Henry says, his voice loud and clear.
I’m glad he asks because there’s still a baseball-sized lump in my throat, and I’m not sure how shaky my voice would sound if I attempted to speak. Still, I realize the gun has started trembling slightly in my hands, and I start focusing on my breathing to keep them still.
“Just lower the gun,” the man says, the dark skin of his forehead shiny with sweat.
No, he’s not a man, I realize. At least he doesn’t quite look like one yet; he’s maybe a year older than Henry, judging by his looks.
“Not until we get some answers,” Henry snaps back. “I don’t know how this looks to you, but you’ve just shot our driver and boarded our bus.”
The boy deflates slightly, but keeps his hands up. “It wouldn’t have stopped any other way. We had to make sure that we got everyone, or there was no telling what could’ve happened.”
His words get jumbled in my ears and all I end up hearing is the same phrase: no one left behind. I tighten my grip.
“Listen,” he continues. “My name is Martin. I’m with a group of resistance fighters, we’ve been planning this for days. These people—the soldiers—they aren’t the good guys they made you believe they were. Most of the people with me are military or police force, too, only the government decided to dump us when we wouldn’t agree to what they wanted us to do.”
“And what exactly was that?” Henry asks. He doesn’t sound so defensive anymore.
“Giving you up to the things up in the sky…the aliens,” Martin replies. “That’s what they wanted us to do.”
Something in my chest unravels and I find myself lowering the gun as the shock of his words hit me. So, we were right about this all along. We weren’t going to be sent off to some kind of safe shelter far away from the Globe—in fact, it was the exact opposite.
Did that place ever even exist? Or were they going to deliver us to them in person, right then and there? The hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the thought.
“How do you know all this?” I ask, surprising myself at how stable my voice sounds.
Martin sighs. “It’s a long explanation, trust me. Well, you probably don’t yet, but you will.”
I look at Henry from the corner of my eye—something tells me to listen to his instincts on this one. He shrugs, and I look at everyone else. Most of the kids are still crying or in shock, and I realize that aside from a few others, we seem to be the oldest here. I guess that makes us the leaders, since its not like anyone else has been eager to bring up their opinion.
Great.
“Fine,” I say, letting my arm fully fall to my side, the tip of the gun pointed at the floor. “We’ll listen.”
Most of the older kids do their best to hide the grisly sight at the front of the bus from the smaller ones, but there’s still one or two I spot without anyone to shield their tear-filled eyes. I can’t help but worry about what this will do to them. To all of us. I keep my hands tight over Corey’s eyes as I lead him out, but even I keep my gaze away from the floor as we step out of the bus, wincing as I spot the bullet-hole I put in the wall.
Had I aimed a few inches differently, would Martin have met the same fate as our bus driver?
And would I have become the same person who killed my father?
I shut my eyes, and try not to think about it.
The city has gone darker, and I feel the fear in the air as the threat of night approaches. Will ravenous beasts emerge from the shadows, ready to hunt and kill whatever they see? I don’t know if it’s monsters or humans that scare me the most now. Maybe they’re just one and the same.
All the other buses have stopped, crowding the entire street for two blocks. We’re the last to emerge, joining a large circle of frightened kids and teens. I peek around the bus and see that there are bodies piled in one of the alleys. People dressed like Martin drag them inside, and I think I hear one of them sobbing.
I think back to Sergeant Day and realize that there must have been a battle between the soldiers and these “resistance fighters”. Maybe they lost some of their own people. I doubt Sergeant Day is alive anymore, and the thought almost makes me throw up.
Are we already losing our humanity so quickly?
The disturbance hasn’t gone ignored, either. As I look up at the tall buildings surrounding us, I see blinds opened and shrouded faces peering out at the street below. The feeling of being watched makes me want to get out of here as quickly as possible.
To my surprise, there aren’t as many people apart of Martin’s team as I thought there were. I count twelve, but it might be slightly off since so many of them keep moving around and I can’t remember their faces. A woman with fierce features grabs an overturned dumpster can and places it at the front of our group, using it as a pedestal so she can look over us.
“Everyone, please listen up!” she shouts. “I know you’re all very scared and confused, but you are in safe hands now. The soldiers who collected you were liars, and did not want to keep you safe. However, we are here to actually do that, and get you home safe to your families.”
This sends a current of excited chatter throughout the crowd, and I can’t help but feel a bit hopeful myself. The thought of going back to Mom—going back to safety—is enough to make me smile…but it’s still short-lived. In fact, it almost feels a little naive.
Even she was the one who told me not to trust anyone, and I have my own promises to keep.
“Now, as much as we want to, we cannot just turn these buses around and return to where you came from,” the woman continues. “The people who captured you will be looking for you, so for now it’s best to lay low. We have a place for you to be safe until that time comes, a place where other survivors have gathered as well. Night is coming soon, and that is when the city is going to be the most dangerous, so we have to move now.”
Henry crosses his arms next to me. “I feel like I’ve heard this whole speech before.”
“She even almost looks like Sergeant Day,” Cacy adds, her voice cold and wary.
Corey tugs at my hand, and I turn to face his worried eyes.
“Zoey, what’s happening?” he asks in that same innocent-boy-who-should-be-playing-and-not-trying-to-stay-alive voice tha
t tears my heart apart into a hundred pieces.
“I’m not sure yet, Corey,” I answer, not wanting to lie. “We’ll just wait and see, okay? Stay close to us.”
His lower lip butts out and I don’t know if I did much to reassure him, but he at least doesn’t seem to be that upset. Maybe, just maybe, these people will stay true to their word. At this point, it’s the least we can hope for.
A few more instructions are said, and I note that they’re light on explanations. It’s eerily quiet as we move alongside our new black-suited guardians, and I can feel the tension growing tighter and tighter in the air. Still, no one resists.
After all, where would we go?
Cacy sidles up next to me, her face scanning the city that surrounds us. “This place looks like a nightmare.”
She’s not wrong; just as I had feared, the city has fared much worse in comparison to back home. Trash is strewn all across the streets on every corner, paired with shards of broken glass. Most of the stores have been boarded up with planks of wood, but it seems to have done little in the long run. The more unfortunate buildings have had their windows broken and doors kicked down. The sight of their empty interiors with shelves picked clean sends shivers down my spine.
I don’t think the world will ever look the same as it did before.
That isn’t the worst of it, though; the city has more horrors to offer with each corner we turn. Apart from the fresh graffiti, there are new messages scrawled onto the brick walls, mostly on the buildings that look like apartment complexes.
Medical help needed on floor 3 door 271
Need water desperately floor 8 2a
Stranded mother with 4 children need food