The Late Bus (Night Fall ™)

by Richard Reece

  “I wasn’t on the bus, sir,” I said.

  “Our security tapes show you at the scene, Lamar.” I told him I’d stopped when I drove by the scene and recognized the bus.

  “What happened on the bus, Miss Presley?”

  “I’m not sure, Mr. Weston.”

  “Not sure?” He raised his voice. “I’ll tell you why you’re not sure. Because nothing happened on that bus! We have the tapes. Everything was perfectly normal until the . . . episode. Mr. Connor, how are you feeling this morning?”

  I didn’t know the kid with us, and I didn’t know till later that he was the one who’d been hit. This morning he just stared at the floor. “I’m OK, sir.”

  “Well, if you begin to feel . . . upset, we have help here. I’d like you to go to Mr. Sprague’s office and talk to him. In fact, I’ll go down there with you in just a minute. Will you wait outside?”

  When he left, Weston faced down Notso. “Mr. Bright? You’re absolutely sure that no one, uh, suggested to your friend that it would be amusing to frighten everyone by pretending to dive under the bus?”

  “Tim wasn’t faking,” Notso said.

  “If he were,” Weston sneered, “it would be useful to have a friend who was in on the prank to ‘save’ him, don’t you think?”

  Notso stayed quiet.

  “Well,” Weston went on, “we have to think about the safety of all our students. As of this morning, all three of you are banned from the activity bus, do you understand? If you are staying after school, you’ll have to find a ride elsewhere.

  “And one more thing. Miss Presley, you will not write about this incident in the Beacon. I’m tired of your stories fanning the hysteria in the student body. Because that’s what these pranks are creating—hysteria!”

  He dismissed us. Back in the hall, we didn’t have much to say. With Weston, you always got pretty much what you expected. Notso’s friend Tim was there, waiting for the principal.

  “I hope you guys aren’t in trouble because of me,” he said. “I really don’t know what happened. I just started to feel so bad, and for a minute there I really thought I wanted to die.”

  “It’s OK,” Nikki said to him. “You weren’t the only one. There really is something going on with that bus.”

  At lunch I called Dad and found out they were going to keep him overnight after the balloon procedure, just to watch for complications. So I told Nikki and Notso I could take them home later.

  Through the afternoon I thought about Rumble and what Miss Robin had told me about his needing to find his own peace. Judging from yesterday, he wasn’t very close yet.

  I was finishing up in the dance room when I saw Miss Robin again. It was for the last time, though I didn’t know it then.

  “Lamar.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “You need to be on that bus with Mr. Emmett tonight.”

  I explained what Weston had said, but she waved it off. “It’s important for you to be there, Lamar. Mr. Emmett needs you.”

  “Okay, ma’am, I’ll try.”

  “Be brave, all right? You’re a fine young man.”

  “Miss Robin . . . ?”

  “Goodbye, honey.”

  When I met up with Nikki and Notso, I didn’t know how to explain. I just said, “Sorry, I need to be on the late bus tonight.”

  They didn’t question me even a little. “I’m with you,” Notso said, and Nikki said, “Me too.”

  As we walked out of the school, the air felt clear and cold. Stars were already appearing, and the moon was almost full. The shadow on its face reminded me of a wolf.

  19

  Getting on the bus wasn’t hard. No one was checking who was boarding. We were sure Weston would look at the security tape the next day, though. Detention was in our futures.

  Rumble looked strange that night, kind of spaced out. I said hi to him and he didn’t seem to notice. I turned to find a seat, and my mouth went dry.

  The students in their seats were so covered in moving shadows that I couldn’t make out their faces. “Do you see that?” I turned around to Notso.

  “See what?” he said.

  Things started getting strange when Rumble missed the first stop. He just drove right past it. When a couple of kids yelled, “Hey!” from the back, he stepped on the gas. By the time he’d blown by the second and third stops, we had to be doing sixty. I could hear cars honking, and the honking got louder when he blasted right through a red light on Water Street.

  You’d think the police would have been on him right away, but they must have been busy at a crime scene or something. “Call 911!” I said to Nikki.

  “My phone won’t work!” she said. I could hear the same thing coming from some of the other seats. A couple of kids started to whimper just behind us.

  I went up the aisle to see what could possibly be the matter with Rumble. He was hunched determinedly behind the wheel as the bus gained speed, and when he turned his scarred face to me, I saw what Miss Robin had meant by evil. Rumble’s eyes looked like little points of red light. He grinned, and I saw long, canine fangs curling around either side of his mouth.

  Before long we had left the city lights behind us. The bus careened along country roads. We had completely left our regular route. Rumble—or whoever had possessed him— seemed to be heading north.

  I thought of trying to overpower Rumble— Notso would help me—and take the wheel. But it was too dangerous. Going off the road at that speed could be fatal.

  It was so dark! Finally we whizzed by a sign I was able to read: Dunport, 20 miles. Where had I heard that name before?

  I huddled with Nikki, Notso, and Bronski. It seemed like the four of us ought to be able to figure something out. “Maybe we’re being kidnapped,” Bronski said. “Maybe he’s going to hold us for ransom.”

  “Either he’s going somewhere, or we’re going to run out of gas,” Notso said. “These things don’t get even ten miles to the gallon. Probably more like eight.”

  “Yeah,” Bronski said, “but the tank holds thirty-five gallons.”

  “Wait,” Nikki said, “he’s slowing down.”

  She was right. But we were in the middle of nowhere. As we slowed down, I looked out the window and saw, up ahead, a white cross planted by the roadside. In the moonlight I could see what looked like a cliff’s edge and a huge blackness beyond. I knew instantly we were in Dunport—where Robert Emmett had died.

  “Notso,” I said, “he’s going to stop. When he does, you need to get everyone off the bus. I’ll distract him.”

  Sure enough, Rumble pulled over next to the cross. I went up to him. He sat sobbing quietly and looking out at the road.

  “Mr. Rumble,” I tried. “Robert.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes still glowing red in the dark. “You know what I have to do, don’t you? The only way to stop the wolves is to give them what they want.”

  The engine idled, shaking the bus, while I tried to stall. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Notso fumbling with the emergency door in the back.

  “That won’t stop them! If you kill yourself now, they’ll chase you forever!” I said to Rumble.

  “Maybe that’s what I deserve.”

  I felt a rush of cold air. The back door was open.

  “You don’t! Penny was grateful that you tried to save her! That’s why you didn’t die. She wanted you to have a chance to be at peace with yourself!”

  I looked back and saw that the bus was empty now. At least the rest were safe. Then I saw that there was still one kid on the bus. Penny was coming toward me.

  Rumble revved the engine and put his hand on the gearshift.

  “Robert, wait!” I said. “Penny is here!”

  He looked around, gave a desperate laugh, and slammed the bus in gear. The bus started to roll forward. Suddenly Penny grabbed my hand and nodded toward Rumble. I put my other hand on his sho
ulder.

  I’ve never felt anything more powerful—and nothing sweeter—than the sensation that passed through me from Penny to Rumble. He stopped the bus and looked past me as if he was studying something far away. The red lights in his eyes went out, replaced by a silvery shining.

  “Really?” he said. “Me?” He sighed deeply. His face relaxed into a smile, and his eyes closed. He slumped back in his seat. I knew he was dead.

  I realized Penny was gone, too. And outside, blue lights were flashing—the police had found us. I walked to the back of the bus, climbed down into the cold night, and hugged Nikki and Notso and Bronski.

  As I got out, several officers stormed the bus. I heard one of them yell, “Suspect down!”

  Another officer walked up to me and said, “Are you Lamar Green?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “I have a message. It’s about your father. I’m supposed to get you to Bridgewater County Hospital as soon as possible.”

  20

  We made to the hospital in about forty minutes. The information desk sent me to the ICU, and the doctor met me there by the nurses’ station.

  “Let’s sit down,” he said. “We did a balloon angioplasty on your dad this afternoon. In this procedure, we put a balloon in the arteries and inflate it. That squashes all the plaque, the stuff that’s blocking the artery, against the walls. And when we deflate the balloon, the opening for the blood to pass through is wider.”

  “Is my dad alive?” I interrupted.

  “Yes,” the doctor said, “but he’s very sick. In about one percent of these procedures, the balloon will cause a blood clot to loosen and travel to the brain. That can cause a stroke. I’m sorry . . . that’s what happened to your dad.”

  “Can I see him?”

  We went into the ICU. Lights were blinking and machines beeping and sighing. Dad was unconscious, an oxygen mask over his mouth. Even with the mask, I could tell that the right half of his face was sagging; it looked like it had started to melt.

  “His face . . .”

  “That’s from the stroke,” the doctor said. “I’m afraid the entire left side of his body is paralyzed as well. At least we think so. He hasn’t regained consciousness since the stroke.”

  I don’t know how you don’t cry when stuff like this happens. At first I guess you’re more shocked than anything.

  “I’m sorry, Lamar,” the doctor said. “Right now there’s not much we can do until he comes out of the coma. You should probably . . .”

  Suddenly the monitor next to my dad’s bed started screeching. Nurses and doctors rushed in and started shouting directions at each other.

  The doctor just said, “It’s your father’s heart, Lamar. Please wait outside.”

  Twenty minutes later he came out. There was sweat on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Lamar,” he said. “There must have been another clot. Your father had a massive heart attack.”

  “Is he . . .” I couldn’t say it.

  “The machines are keeping him alive. But we’re not sure he’s going to regain consciousness.”

  They let me go back into the ICU and sit by him. I’d read that sometimes people in comas can really hear you, so I told him I loved him. I told him how much I wanted him to pull through, that he was my best friend. I had no idea how late it was. I think at some point I dozed off. And there was the dad I dreamed of. He and I were throwing the football around; he could always throw it hard enough to sting my hands. That’s what he did in my dream. I laughed and went, “Ouch!” and he said, “Sorry, Lamar.”

  “Sorry, Lamar.”

  I snapped awake. Dad was looking at me and smiling. “Sorry to wake you up, son. You were looking so peaceful there.”

  “Dad?” I couldn’t believe it. I hugged him the best I could. Just then a nurse came in. Her eyes got wide, and she hurried off. In two minutes the doctor was there. He looked completely shocked.

  “Mr. Green,” he said, “how do you feel?”

  “Great,” Dad said. “You were right about that procedure.”

  The doctor asked him to move his arms and legs, his fingers and toes, and to name the president. He shined a light into his eyes. Finally he shook his head and said, “I’m going to write a paper about this. Mr. Green, we’ll move you to a regular room as soon as we can.”

  It was right after they moved him, by his bed in the ICU, that Rumble appeared. He was smiling, and Penny was holding his hand. He waved, and I read his lips as he faded away. “Thank you, Lamar.”

  Everything’s fine in Bridgewater. Really...

  Or is it?

  Look for all the titles from the

  Night Fall collection.

  THE CLUB

  Bored after school, Josh and his friends decide to try out an old board game. The group chuckles at Black Magic’s promises of good fortune. But when their luck starts skyrocketing—and horror strikes their enemies—the game stops being funny. How can Josh stop what he’s unleashed? Answers lie in an old diary—but ending the game may be deadlier than any curse.

  THE COMBINATION

  Dante only thinks about football. Miranda’s worried about applying to college. Neither one wants to worry about a locker combination too. But they’ll have to learn their combos fast—if they want to survive. Dante discovers that an insane architect designed St. Philomena High, and he’s made the school into a doomsday machine. If too many kids miss their combinations, no one gets out alive.

  FOUL

  Rhino is one of Bridgewater best basketball players— except when it comes to making free throws. It’s not a big deal, until he begins receiving strange threats. If Rhino can’t make his shots at the free throw line, someone will start hurting the people around him. Everyone’s a suspect: a college recruiter, Rhino’s jealous best friend, and the father Rhino never knew—who recently escaped from prison.

  LAST DESSERTS

  Ella loves to practice designs for the bakery she’ll someday own. She’s also one of the few people not to try the cookies and cakes made by a mysterious new baker. Soon the people who ate the baker’s treats start acting oddly, and Ella wonders if the cookies are to blame. Can her baking skills help her save her best friend—and herself?

  THE LATE BUS

  Lamar takes the “late bus” home from school after practice each day. After the bus’s beloved driver passes away, Lamar begins to see strange things—demonic fgures, preparing to attack the bus. Soon he learns the demons are after Mr. Rumble, the freaky new bus driver. Can Lamar rescue his fellow passengers, or will Rumble’s past come back to destroy them all?

  LOCK-IN

  The Fresh Start Lock-In was supposed to bring the students of Bridgewater closer together. Jackie didn’t think it would work, but she didn’t think she’d have to fight for her life, either. A group of outsider kids who like to play werewolf might not be playing anymore. Will Jackie and her brother escape Bridgewater High before morning? Or will a pack of crazed students take them down?

  MESSAGES FROM BEYOND

  Some guy named Ethan has been texting Cassie. He seems to know all about her—but she can’t place him. Cassie thinks one of her friends is punking her. But she can’t ignore how Ethan looks just like the guy in her nightmares. The search for Ethan draws her into a struggle for her life. Will Cassie be able to break free from her mysterious stalker?

  THE PRANK

  Pranks make Jordan nervous. But when a group of popular kids invite her along on a series of practical jokes, she doesn’t turn them down. As the pranks begin to go horribly wrong, Jordan and her crush Charlie work to discover the cause of the accidents. Is the spirit of a prank victim who died twenty years earlier to blame? And can Jordan stop the fnal prank, or will the haunting continue?

  THE PROTECTORS

  Luke’s life has never been “normal.” His mother holds séances and his crazy stepfather works as Bridgewater’s mortician. But living in a funeral home never bothered Luke—until his mom’s accident. Then the bodies in the funeral ho
me start delivering messages to him, and Luke is certain he’s going nuts. When they start offering clues to his mother’s death, he has no choice but to listen.

  SKIN

  It looks like a pizza exploded on Nick Barry’s face. But a bad rash is the least of his problems. Something sinister is living underneath Nick’s skin. Where did it come from? What does it want? With the help of a dead kid’s diary, Nick slowly learns the answers. But there’s still one question he must face: how do you destroy an evil that’s inside you?

  THAW

  A storm caused a major power outage in Bridgewater. Now a project at the Institute for Cryogenic Experimentation is ruined, and the thawed-out bodies of twenty-seven federal inmates are missing. At frst, Dani didn’t think much of the news. Then her best friend Jake disappeared. To get him back, Dani must enter a dangerous alternate reality where a defrosted inmate is beginning to act like a god.

  UNTHINKABLE

  Omar Phillips is Bridgewater High’s favorite local teen author. His Facebook fans can’t wait for his next horror story. But lately Omar’s imagination has turned against him. Horrifying visions of death and destruction come at him with wide-screen intensity. The only way to stop the visions is to write them down. Until they start coming true . . .

  BAd DEAl

  Fish hates taking his ADHD meds. They help him concentrate, but they also make him feel weird. When a cute girl needs a boost to study for tests, Fish offers her a pill. Soon more kids want pills, and Fish likes the profits. To keep from running out, Fish finds a doctor who sells phony prescriptions. After the doctor is arrested, Fish decides to tell the truth. But will that cost him his friends?

  BEAtEN

  Paige is a cheerleader. Ty’s a football star. They seem like the perfect couple. But when they have their first fight, Ty scares Paige with his anger. Then after losing a game, Ty goes ballistic and hits Paige. Ty is arrested for assault, but Paige still secretly meets up with him. What’s worse—flinching every time your boyfriend gets angry, or being alone?