Speak No Evil Trilogy

by Amy Richie

  “Get up,” a woman screamed. “You can’t do anything right!”

  What had happened though? Was the driver falling asleep? Maybe Tristan was getting tired of waiting for me to kill myself and now he was going to let the ghost-people finish me off. Could they make people fall asleep though?

  In answer to my desperate - but silent - questions, the bus jerked violently again.

  I slid sideways in the narrow aisle until my shoulder made hard contact with the metal legs of the seat. I pushed away before my face had the same fate but I couldn’t help my leg.

  “Oph,” I grunted loudly, all the while trying to keep the ghost people in my view.

  I pulled my leg back to my body but didn’t have enough time to assess the damage before the swerving bus was sending my body to the other side of the aisle. I needed to get up, I realized with growing concern. I needed to get up and see what was wrong with the driver. If he was sleeping, maybe I could wake him up.

  Flipping over to my stomach, I pulled my legs up until I was at least on my knees. Getting my hands to follow suit was harder, but by pushing hard against my palms I was able to raise up onto my hands too.

  The ghost-people blocked my view to the front of the bus and I was too scared to push through their cold bodies. I had never willingly touched one before. What would happen if I did?

  Luckily, I didn’t have to find out. The woman standing closest to me bent low so she could shout directly into my ear and unknowingly created a gap just big enough for me to see the driver. My heart sank at the sight.

  Two ghosts, one tall man and a meaner looking man who was much shorter stood on either side of the driver - shouting down into his face. No wonder the bus was swerving.

  “Why are you alive?” the taller of the duo screamed loudly. His veins popped angrily out of his neck with his efforts.

  “Your wife would be happier if you died,” the other one hissed, quieter but somehow meaner because of it. “At least then she could have your life insurance.”

  “Wreck it,” his partner growled, “wreck it and they'll call it an accident.”

  “No one is on this bus anyways,” the short one purred, “only you. And who would miss you?”

  “Nobody would miss you,” the man exploded in sudden fury. “No one even cares about you.”

  They were going to make him wreck the bus! My thoughts raced frantically ahead of any other instincts. I’m here, I silently screamed. Didn’t the driver remember that I was here?

  I needed to stop them, I realized too late. I didn't even know if I could stop them but I had to try, otherwise me and the driver would be killed.

  I couldn't get to my feet fast enough to do any good though. The bus veered sharply to the left and went off the road completely. I fell backwards, this time not able to protect my face from the seats.

  Chapter Five

  I kept my eyes opened wide, staring up at… I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. It looked kind of like seats; but that wasn’t possible. Was it?

  I turned my head as much as I dared. The bus had stopped moving but I didn't feel any safer. Somehow my body had gotten wedged on the floor of the bus against the seats.

  And there were seats in front of me. That meant the bus was on its side. Right? My breath came out loudly; half a gasp and half a scream. I couldn't move; I was too scared. What if I fell against those seats?

  Had the bus really just wrecked? My brain felt fuzzy - probably from my inability to take a full breath - but I was pretty sure the ghost-people has caused the bus to flip over.

  “Hello?” I croaked, my voice pathetically low. Did I really expect someone to hear that? “Is anyone out there?” I tried again, just as quietly.

  Giving up on that, I craned my neck to try and see the driver. He would know what to do. I couldn’t see anyone up there though. If he was up there, he wasn’t moving much.

  Being careful not to shift too much, I inched my legs over just to see if they still worked. I almost cried with relief when my knee hit the hard metal leg of the seat. Glass cascaded all around my face when I moved my hand but at least it moved too. That meant I wasn't broken.

  At least for the most part.

  In my right shoulder I felt a sharp bite of pain, but it was ok. I could ignore it for now. I shifted my hip in an attempt to get up to my knees but immediately realized that wasn't going to work. There was too much glass and not enough room.

  The bus was quiet now; the ghosts had left after their job was done. They had caused the driver to wreck the bus with me in it. Were they after me or after him? It was too much of a coincidence to ignore though, and I knew it.

  All I could hear around me now was my own raspy breathing echoing in my ears. Alone and bleeding. Nona had once called me a warrior; guess she couldn't be right about everything.

  If I died here in this bus would the police even know who I was? I had no identification on me and I wasn't sure if anyone even cared enough to report me missing. But no, I decided firmly, I wasn't going to die here. I was getting out of this bus and finding Toby. The ghost-people couldn't hurt me.

  Too bad I was stuck.

  “What happened here?” a familiar voice asked near my head.

  “Tristan!” I called out. I had never been so happy to have him near me.

  “Ren?”

  “I’m here,” I almost sobbed. “Why did you leave?”

  “I had someone to talk to,” he replied slowly, bending down to my level.

  I craned my neck to look up at him. “You came back though.” I tried to smile, but my lips didn’t seem to be working right.

  “Yeah,” his eyes narrowed. “What is all this? What happened?”

  “The bus wrecked,” I needlessly explained. “I think it rolled to it’s side.”

  “Got that part,” he frowned, “but how?”

  “The driver…he drove off the road.”

  He looked back over his shoulder, his confusion still written plainly on his handsome face. “Yeah?”

  I wasn't buying his innocent act though. He had been telling me all along not to go looking for Toby and I knew he could control the ghost-people. Of course this was his doing.

  “The ghost-people did this,” I blurted out angrily.“They tried to kill me.”

  “The ghosts?”His eyes widened, then narrowed again. “They didn't do this.”He held his hand out towards the bus seats on the wrong side of me.

  “I was here, I saw it happen.”

  “I…don’t understand,” he said slowly, looking so believably confused I almost fell for it.

  “The bus flipped over,” I screeched.

  “I know…but…” He moved his head to search all around the empty bus. “You said the Cursed did this.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. Were we really going to go over this all again? “I don’t think I can move.” I wiggled slightly in my spot; I could move alright but I didn't want to go flying forward if I could help it.

  “You can,” Tristan needlessly corrected my earlier assessment.

  “I'll fall.”

  “Just lean forward and grab the seat.”

  Easy for him to say, he didn’t have a body to worry about. “It’s too far. I can’t reach it.”

  “Give me your hand,” he ordered gently. “Give me your hand. I'll help you.”

  “You can't,” I reminded him through clenched teeth. “You can't touch me.”

  “I can if you let me.”

  I shook my head quickly from side to side, not understanding what he was saying. He couldn't touch me anymore; he used to be able to- he had kissed me back at the hotel a million years ago- but something had changed.

  “You can't,” I repeated. “I'll do it myself.”

  Reaching my arms out as far as they would go and bending my upper body to form an 'L', I was able to catch hold of the seat legs across from me. I gritted my teeth and pulled with all my strength just to move a few inches.

 
“I can't,” I groaned, “I can't make it.”

  “If you won't let me help you,” Tristan sighed, “then you'll have to do it yourself.”

  “Yeah.”

  I grabbed the seat again, this time determined to get myself across to the window. Using my foot, I kicked the broken glass the rest of the way out. With a grunt, I heaved my body out of the broken window. Hands that were still sore from the metal seat legs now had glass in the skin. I pulled the glass out and crawled out onto the side of the overturned bus.

  “Tristan?” Did he leave again?

  “I'm here,” he appeared suddenly- right next to me.

  “How am I going to get down?” I peered over the edge of the unnatural view of the wrecked bus. The ground was too far away.

  “You'll have to jump.”

  My eyes closed briefly with his words; I was afraid he was going to say that. “It's really far,” I whimpered, mostly to myself.

  There was no other way down though, I realized pretty quickly. I took a deep breath and blew it out roughly.

  “You'll make it,” Tristan assured me. “It's not that far of a jump.”

  Not giving myself too much time to decide to just wait on the bus until the ghost-people came back, I sucked in a quick breath and jumped over the side of the bus.

  It certainly wasn't graceful- flying through the air. I landed heavily on my right side and, unable to keep my balance, I sprawled out half on my side and half on my face.

  “Ugh,” I rose painfully to a sitting position, jabbing at my throbbing ankle. “Ow,” I flinched away from my own touch.

  “Is it broken?” Tristan asked from above me.

  “I don't know.” It wasn't like there were any bones sticking out of my skin or anything. So that was good.

  “This is unreal,” Tristan shook his head slowly.

  “It's real though,” I told him, as if he couldn't see the wreckage behind him.

  “Yeah. I know.” He glanced behind him then back at me. “I know.”

  One of the wheels on the bus was still spinning slightly, making my stomach clench painfully. I had never been in any kind of accident before.

  “Do you think the driver is ok?” I asked through shaking lips.

  “No,” he replied simply. “I don't think he is.”

  “The things they were saying to him,” I shuddered at the memory. No wonder he drove the bus off the road.

  “Why were they even here though?” he asked in a low voice. He didn't look like he was talking to me anymore.

  I swallowed hard, staring at Tristan . He was just standing there, looking at the twisted metal of the bus I had just crawled out of. Could I really believe what he was saying? How could I be sure that he had nothing to do with those ghost-people attacking us?

  I couldn't.

  “Will the driver come to you now?” I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice.

  I didn't succeed though; I saw it in the narrowing of his eyes as they honed in on me. “Not yet,” he said slowly.

  “Hmm,” I shrugged, turning my eyes away first.

  I spun my wrist in a slow circle, checking to see if it still worked. Besides the deep gash from the broken window, my hands appeared all in one piece.

  The jeans that weren't even my own had a small tear on my right knee, but amazingly they too were mostly whole. That meant my legs should be ok.

  “Here,” Tristan grunted, dropping a bundle close to my legs.

  The red material of my backpack stared up at me. Tristan had gone back for it. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, guilt threatening to make me apologize to the ghost staring down at me.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Chapter Six

  “Does it still hurt,” Tristan asked- for the third time.

  Maybe it had been too long since he'd been alive. Did he really think twisted ankles and cut up hands healed that fast? Had it even been a half an hour since he dumped the backpack beside me?

  “Not really,” I lied.

  “Your face looks terrible.”

  “I've heard that before,” I nodded.

  “I mean,” he half growled, “it's all cut up.”

  Not surprising, I had just been inside a bus that rolled off the road. “It doesn't hurt,” I assured him.

  “You don't have to pretend with me, Ren.” He squatted down so our faces were close together. “I'm not Toby.”

  I didn't pretend to be ok with Toby, though. Until recently I didn't even talk to him. I had spent most of my life trying to pretend he wasn't there. And why did Tristan have to remind me of Toby?

  “Will the police come here?” My eyes went slightly wide at the thought. What was wrong with me that I hadn't thought about the police coming here before? Maybe I had hit my head harder than I realized.

  “Probably,” Tristan nodded slowly.

  “I should go then, before they come.” I would have to go to the hospital and there would be a lot of questions.

  “Where would you go?” He made a show of searching the empty road and the large grassy area we had landed in.

  “I don't know,” I admitted. “Somewhere.”

  “Just stay here.”

  “What about the police?”

  “Wait for them.”

  “They'll take me back to Nine Crosses.”

  Tristan dropped down fully onto his knees in front of me. “What would be so bad about that?” he asked gently.

  “The ghost-people will get me.” I realized right away that I sounded exactly like a little kid.

  “They can't touch you.”

  Was that anger I saw flash in his eyes?

  “You're in more danger out here where stuff like this can happen.” He pointed back to the bus without looking at it. “At least in Nine Crosses, you'll be safe.”

  Safe? I latched onto the word, allowing it to lull me into a false sense of security. I had lived in Nine Crosses for years and nothing had ever happened there. Sure, the ghost- people were there, but they had never tried to hurt me- not until I left.

  Maybe Tristan was right. If I went back to Nine Crosses, things would be a lot easier. I wouldn't have to worry anymore about which way to go or if I would have enough money to get there or even if I had enough money to eat.

  It would be better for everyone if I just sat here until the police came. They would know what to do.

  But what about Toby, a tiny part of my mind asked. What would happen to Toby if I went back to Nine Crosses?

  Nona said he was in trouble. I wouldn't be able to look for him if I was locked up again. There would be no way to get a message to him. What would happen to Toby if I didn't save him?

  As my thoughts chased each other around my head, my eyebrows slid lower on my forehead. As much as I wanted things to be simple, I had to face the fact that it wasn't.

  Toby needed me. Could I just turn my back on him?

  “There's nothing to think about,” Tristan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You're just a girl, Ren. You can't do anything about Toby.”

  My head snapped up at his words. “Do you know where he is?”

  Tristan hesitated, giving me all the answer I needed.

  “Take me to him!” I jerked my body forwards.

  “I can't.”

  “Why?”

  “You're just a girl,” he repeated. “Don't worry about him.”

  I shook my head stubbornly. “I have to find him.”

  Leaning my weight onto my right hip, I managed to use my left leg enough to push myself up off the ground. Pain fired up through my ankle all the way up my leg when I tried to take a step, forcing me to stop and catch my breath.

  “What are you going,” Tristan thundered.

  “I don't know,” I snapped back. “Anywhere but here.”

  Now that I had made up my mind not to wait around for the police to haul me back to Nine Crosses, there was an almost feverish desperation
to get away. My ankle wasn't ok enough to run though. I wouldn't be running far; I'd have to settle for hiding.

  I put one foot forward, hissing through my teeth as another bolt of pain shot up my leg. Maybe it was broken. I couldn't walk on a broken leg.

  Before my panic level could go through the roof, I shuffled forward another step- just to see. This step wasn't as bad as the last one. I could make it then, I decided with a firm set of my jaw, I’d just have to find somewhere close and try to keep my weight on the left.

  “I can make it,” I whispered to no one.

  “Just wait here,” Tristan stepped in front of me. “The police will be here soon.”

  I glanced back at the bus, alarm racing through me to battle the pain. No police had come yet and as far as I could remember, no cars had passed us. Of course, I had been stuck inside the bus for a while, so it was possible that someone had already called the police.

  “You think so?” I turned back to Tristan, eyes wide.

  “That's a good thing, Ren,” he insisted, “the police will help you.”

  “They'll take me back.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes narrowed, bringing his eyebrows down with them.

  I shoved past Tristan, almost losing my shaky balance when my hand went through him instead of pushing him like I'd intended. “Guess that goes both ways, huh?” I tried to grin but my mouth got stuck in this weird frown.

  Best to just keep going.

  “You're being ridiculous! Do you want to die?”

  “I only hurt my ankle,” I rolled my eyes, managing another step, “and I don't even think it's that bad.”

  “You're bleeding everywhere.”

  “I am?” I glanced down to make sure; but no, I was only bleeding a little on my hands.

  “Your face is all cut up and so are your hands. Stay here.”

  Ignoring Tristan's protests, I scanned the area for a place I could hide. There wasn't much to choose from, we had crashed into a wide empty piece of grass. Not far from the road, there was a small patch of trees- only a dozen, maybe less- but it would have to be enough.

  “I can hide there,” I pointed out the trees.