***
The yellow bus had come to a stop in a field by a quiet road in the country. Al pulled Percival to the side of the road and threw on her four ways, for good measure. There were no emergency vehicles or any other vehicles around. The yellow bus was perfectly quiet and stopped by a shimmering lake. Al felt nauseated at the thought that the creatures from the bridge might have gotten her sister, too.
She exited the vehicle with Hector and Molly. She grabbed Big Bertha and her tool belt. They needed to get those doors open somehow.
The sun was comforting. There was no breeze blowing, and it was turning into a warm day for fall. The field was still covered in green grass, running down a small hill toward the bus, reeds the only thing separating it from the water.
“If anything happens, we meet back at Percival, okay?” Al instructed. Molly nodded and looked at Percival as thought noting its position in the deepest trenches of her memory.
“Let’s go,” Al said, walking toward the bus. Molly waved, and Al grinned when she spotted Pete through the window. The bus’s windows were all closed and it was covered in vines.
“No wonder they couldn’t get out,” Molly muttered. “Hope you have garden shears in your tool belt.”
“Wire cutters. That oughta do.” She pulled them out and grinned.
“You would have made an awesome scout,” Molly said.
They reached the bus and dozens of faces looked at them through the windows. Al focused on Pete. A rare smile of gratitude spread her lips apart. Her face seemed even paler than usual under her veil of long dyed black hair. Al smiled back and headed around the bus, near the water, to cut the vines keeping the doors closed. They were thick and it took all of her strength to get through them. She just needed to get the doors free and they could all leave.
Maybe she could get all of the vines off and they could get the bus going again. Pete would ride with them, but the bus could head back into town. It seemed sensible enough.
Al had just managed to cut one vine when Molly came around to join her.
“This will take a while,” Al said, grunting.
“Al…” Molly whispered, pointing to the river.
Al’s blood turned cold and she turned around slowly. The waters were still calm, but the shimmer on it moved in patterns. They had formed curved lines and danced up and down, toward the shore then away again. She was cold and realized the sun wasn’t touching her anymore, despite the fact that it still shimmered on the water and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
She stood in a shadow. The bus was casting a shadow on her, even though the sun was in full sight. And on this side of the bus. Molly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door. Al was too stunned to fight back.
They reached the sun again, but the shadows of a tree inched towards them. The shadow from the bus began shifting as well. Towards them.
As though it hunted them.
Nigh - Book 1 Page 11
