by William Bebb
*****
I'm in Hell. This has got to be Hell, Minarges thought as he lay sprawled out in the road gingerly feeling his broken ribs.
When the bus hit he'd been lucky. (Well, as lucky as a person can be when hit by a bus) One of the front tires ran over his chest snapping his ribs like dry twigs, but miraculously he was still somehow alive. (In a world of pain, having a hard time breathing, and terrified but alive.)
With trembling hands, he reached for his gun. He pulled it out of the holster and felt close to passing out as he checked the clip.
A high pitched shriek came from his right. He looked down the road and saw Crawford running toward him. Still stretched out on his back, he fired at her insane looking foamy froth covered face. His aim was much better than usual, but the helmet camera she wore was bulletproof as was the one he was wearing.
The bullets ricocheted off the helmet and destroyed the microphone that went with her camera.
As she reached him, he turned the gun back and placed the hot muzzle under his chin pointed at the back of his head. If this has all been a nightmare, I'll wake up and everything will be okay. If this has been real, it won't matter anyway. I will not be turned into a monster. I will not be some sort of ravenous crazy zombie, he thought bitterly and squeezed the trigger.
The audio and video from their helmet cameras showed what happened next. There was an audible click as he discovered the gun was out of bullets, followed by his last coherent words as Crawford arrived and began biting and tearing at him, “DAMMIT! Okay, fine. Eat me, bitch!”
Shoemaker awoke to gunshots and a colossal headache just before he opened his eyes. He saw half of Sazera's body hanging through the windshield and felt a very tender bump swelling on his forehead. Looking out the bus staircase windows behind him, he spotted several people seeming to aimlessly wander around by the entrance and the trailers.
Crawford was bent over Minarges in the roadway and she was biting and ripping at his body.
It's sort of like some of those dumb movies where people get infected and go kill crazy, he thought while carefully and quietly getting to his feet.
His left wrist was hurt and he suspected it might be broken, but no other bones seemed to be busted. He checked his holster and was relieved to find his gun was still there. Grabbing a chrome railing for support, he climbed into the front storage area of the bus. Looking through his key ring, he crawled to the weapons locker. As he looked for the right key he heard the bus' radio crackling then, “This is Captain Wyatt! HQ, come in HQ! We got trouble. Can you read?”
So, Wyatt's still alive, he thought as he flipped open the lock. He pulled out the twelve gauge shotgun and the box of shells that went with it.
Outside the bus, a scream was answered by several more.
He grabbed the second box of shells as well.
The screams got louder as he quickly loaded the gun.
Shoemaker thought he was seeing things when a young man rode by the wrecked bus on a bicycle, right through the crowd of crazy people at the exit. The young man’s face looked determined as he shouted something. He couldn't understand the words as they merged with the screams. The bike was moving fast. Without a radar speed detector, he guessed that the kid had to be doing sixty miles an hour as he sped up the road.
Crawford was standing up. She looked around and was the last person in the way as the kid pedaled up the hill. Hearing him shouting, she dived for the bicyclist.
Shoemaker prepared to jump out of the bus if she caught him. But the young man was riding like the devil itself was chasing him and easily swerved around her. A few other screaming people started after him, but by the time they reached the part of the road where Minarges stood shakily in the road the bicyclist was already passing the first turn back in the road and still going unbelievably fast.
Wish I had a bike, Shoemaker thought while cradling the shotgun as if it were as precious as a newborn baby.