by Jeff Olah
The bus lunged forward again as Griffin pointed toward the smashed out front windshield and said, “We gotta go, but watch your step.”
Leading the way as they stepped through the jagged path toward the opening, Griffin looked over at the driver. Moving past the elderly gentleman for the second time, he would have sworn under oath that the dead man moved his eyes to follow them.
Stepping out first, he helped Cora to the opposite side of the road and sat her on the ice chest that had been ejected from the SUV. He leaned in, removed a four inch folding knife from his back pocket and cut the orange jumpsuit away from her wrists. “Okay, that’s done.”
Cora looked up and saw that he was smiling. Her only thought was that this man must be exceptionally happy to be alive. Any other explanation for his apparent joy when surrounded by all this death would be highly inappropriate.
Attempting to return the awkward gesture, she half-smiled, but quickly turned away and moved her line of sight to the shiny hardware binding her wrists to one another. “I really don’t—”
Griffin placed his hand under her chin, lifted her head, and said, “I don’t want to know and we really don’t have the time. All that matters right now is that you and I are alive, but if we don’t get down off this mountain and out of the snow, we won’t be.”
Cora nodded in agreement and started to stand.
Griffin moved his hand to her shoulder and shook his head. “Just rest for a few minutes and catch your breath. We’ve got a pretty good walk ahead of us and you’re gonna need every last bit of strength you have. I’m not gonna let you slow us down.”
Cora leaned against the tree at her back and attempted to brush the flaking blood from her hands. “Okay.”
Griffin turned and disappeared back in through the front of the bus. He reappeared twice, again dragging a body with each pass. As the smoke continued to grow, he exited one last time, now pulling out one of the guards.
Coughing as he spat a mouthful of soot out onto the pavement, Griffin seized the guard’s nine millimeter and her keys. Returning to Cora, he stared into her eyes and with his left hand, pulled a forty-five caliber pistol from his waistband.
Holding one weapon in each hand, he said, “I’m going to trust you here. I have no reason to, although I also have no reason not to. I don’t know what the hell is going on this morning, and I really don’t care, but I’m not taking any chances. However, if you even think about doing anything other than protecting yourself with this, I WILL end your life. Are we clear?”
She nodded.
“Okay then,” Griffin said, holding out both weapons. “You have a preference?”
She motioned toward the forty-five and then looked back at her cuffs.
Setting the weapon at her feet, Griffin took the guard’s keys from his pocket and knelt at her side. “Just so we’re clear—”
“You can relax,” Cora said. “That’s not me.”
Griffin released her cuffs and then handed them back to her. “Time to prove it.”
She stood, hurled them across the road, and stepped to him. She raised her arms slowly and moved in close, their torsos making contact first. She laid her head on his chest and draped her arms around him. “My name is Cora and you are the first man I have touched in months. Thank you for saving my life, but you smell like two-day-old crap.”
He instinct was to push her away, but he let the moment play out a bit longer. As she lifted her head and stepped back he said, “I’m Griffin. I think we’re gonna get along just fine. Oh, and by the way, you’re welcome.”
14
Moving to the rear stairwell, Ethan grabbed the clipboard from the stainless steel hook, logged their departure time, and handed it to David before opening the door. They stomped heavily down the galvanized diamond-plated steps and into the rear lot. Still in possession of the keys, Ethan said, “I’m driving today.”
“Oh boy,” David said. “This thing with Shannon really has you wound up.”
“Wrong, I just want to get this run done today and get back home; traffic is going to be a nightmare through downtown after lunch.”
“Whatever you say buddy, but are you planning on making any stops before we head out of town?”
Ethan didn’t answer as the pair stopped in front of the white armored truck they would use for today’s run, and turned to face one another. Months earlier, David started a morning ritual that continued on to this very day. He and Ethan would remind each other of the seriousness involved with what they did every time they left the yard.
Even though most days they had little more than a passing conversation with anyone other than the people they worked with, they knew that the cargo they were transporting had the potential to make each day on earth their last.
David raised his arms and slammed them into Ethan’s vest. “Here we go my man. You and I. Out and back, in under five hours. Let’s do this.”
A smirk slid across Ethan’s face as he in turn pounded his fists against David’s body armor. “Together first, and together to the end. Let’s do this.”
As the men turned to walk to their respective sides of the truck, Ethan paused and added something of his own. Turning and shoving David from behind, he said, “And don’t screw this up.”
Laughing, David moved to the passenger side, slid his phone from his rear pocket, and climbed in. As Ethan fired up the steel plated behemoth, David powered on his phone. Looking out toward the western skyline and below that, the path they’d be taking out of the city, he said, “Starting to snow.”
“Add that to the drive and I think you may just be right—my sister is definitely going to fire us today. Unless, that is, you allow me to drive the way I need to—”
Staring down at his phone, David interrupted. “Carly’s texted me ten times in the last five minutes.”
“I take it you did something stupid last night and now she’s finally come to her senses, probably just realized she’s way too good for you.”
“Not exactly. She’s at work and said she’s scared. That was her last text. She said they are getting overrun this morning and is freaking out about all the news coming in from the city.”
Pulling out from the lot, Ethan stopped in the alley and waited as the massive gate closed. Looking over as David finished his reply and hit send, he said, “So, what’d you tell her?”
Still peering down at the screen, David said, “I told her we’d get back early and after we leave the bank, we’d stop by.”
“We?”
“Just drive.”
Down the alley and out onto Second, Ethan nodded toward the end of the block and the gathering crowd. “Can’t wait till they leave tomorrow. I still don’t know why this town has to host that cook-off every year. We lose more money than we make. I just pray that this is the last year.”
“You say that every year.”
“That’s cause it’s true. You don’t even like it and you like everything and everybody.”
“That’s not true,” David said. “But I do like going down there in the afternoon. Carly and I are heading over tonight.”
“Yeah, sure you are. What’d you forget about the little gift you received after eating some out-of-towner’s spoiled chili meat last year?”
“That was a stomach bug.”
Turning left onto Main and then a second left on Third, they headed for the city limits. “No,” Ethan said, “that was projectile vomiting, and if you’d like to steer clear of it this year, you may want to just avoid that mess altogether.”
Even though this was the less direct route, and it would add an additional five miles, they’d still arrive at the warehouse in under ninety minutes. This would give the men an hour or two for loading and paperwork, two hours for the return trip down the mountain, and another hour to unload at the bank before driving back to the office. Ethan was confident they’d once again avoid his sister’s wrath.
In the ten minutes since leaving the yard, they’d yet to run across another vehic
le. Waiting at the final traffic signal before crossing over the city limits, Ethan motioned toward the town’s oldest watering hole and its parking lot, known to every resident as Frankenstein’s playground.
Years earlier after watching one unfortunate soul after another stumble around the parking lot outside The Red Moose Tavern, attempting to locate their vehicle, Sheriff Harris put together a video as a public service announcement and played it at the monthly town hall meetings.
The residents who were lucky enough to avoid being caught on video dubbed the others as Frankenstein’s drunk relatives due to the way they fought to stay upright. The name caught on and spurred a new Friday evening ritual.
If one found themselves without much to do at the end of a long week, they could always join the half dozen or so others across the street from the Red Moose and take bets on who’d make it to their vehicle and who’d have to be driven home by the Sheriff. Some nights this was the most excitement one could have for miles.
This morning, two men were just beyond the first row of parking stalls, with one hovering over the other. The two appeared to either be wresting or locked up in some sort of misguided attempt at performing forced CPR. David sent off another quick text before looking up. “Is that Alfred?”
“No, it looks like Billy and Lamar. I guess they still haven’t sobered up.”
“Why are they still out here?” David said, turning back to his phone. “This couldn’t be a carry-over from last night, there’s no way. I saw them leaving long before we did.”
As Ethan continued to watch, the man who Ethan had correctly identified as Billy Ralston sat up. His entire right arm, from fingertip to shoulder, dripped with blood. And turning toward the sound of their massive vehicle, he also had a face full of the same.
“Hey buddy.”
Not looking up, David said, “Yeah?”
“Whatever it was that you saw this morning in the city—”
“Uh huh.”
“I think it may have found its way here.”
15
His breath froze as it left his mouth. It then floated away in miniature crystals and fought to pass through the deluge falling from the sky. The air was cold as it bit at the exposed skin on his face and arms. With each passing minute, the temperature continued to drop and although the jacket he’d given her was more than double her size, he knew she’d be needing it much more than he ever would.
Standing behind the bus as it continued to be pulled toward the steep slope at the edge of the road, Griffin again looked back at Cora. She sat in the shadows of the massive tree line at the opposite side of the road as quarter sized flakes floated down and kissed the top of her head. He watched as she rubbed her hands together, blew into them, and then repeated the process again and again.
The last several hours had blown by in the blink of an eye, even as the last five minutes seemed to play out in slow motion. Studying the landscape as the bus teetered at the edge of the forest, Griffin counted aloud. “Six… seven… eight. Wait no, there’s another two or three over there.” They needed to move and it had to be now.
Hurrying back across the street as Cora stood and dusted herself off, Griffin said, “Who was sitting at the back of the bus?”
“What?”
“It looks like ten, maybe fifteen people got out after the crash. You can see their tracks heading down that hill. I’m not sure what those other markings are, possibly someone with a broken leg. Looks like they were dragging themselves through the snow.”
“It was women, just other women.”
“Yeah, okay. But what I’m asking, I mean, do we need to watch for these other women? If we come across them. Do we need to be ready to defend—”
Interrupting, Cora said, “No, they weren’t like that. If they got out and didn’t stay around to help, they’ll probably do anything they can to avoid us.”
“You sure?”
“No, but I think we’re gonna have bigger problems just getting off this mountain.”
“How many of you on the bus?”
“Thirty-five—exactly thirty-five. Four guards, twenty-five inmates and six of those men that were dressed in the yellow biohazard suits.”
“Biohazard suits? Why would they be transporting—”
“I don’t know who they were or why they were at our facility, but they all evacuated with the rest of us. I think this was the third or fourth bus out.”
“Evacuating? Why were they evacuating?”
“I’m not really sure. We had some women come in and I think they were sick; it spread really quickly. They said more and more people were showing symptoms. They didn’t know what else to do.”
“Seems like a bit of an overreaction,” Griffin said. “For only a few sick people.”
“They didn’t tell us very much, I just followed the others and got on the bus.” Looking back up the road and then at the bus that again pitched forward, Cora nodded toward the trees. “Shouldn’t we get going? It’s coming down pretty hard.”
Griffin stared into her eyes, paused for a moment, and then looked down to the discarded cuffs at the edge of the road. “Staying along the highway is gonna take too long. We need to go straight through. If we don’t stop, I’ll bet we can make it to that town within a few hours.”
Cora didn’t respond. She only nodded and continued rubbing her hands together.
“Listen,” Griffin said. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Once we get into that town, we can go our separate ways and you can be whoever you want to be. But let’s just get there first.”
“What about you?”
“The first thing I’m doing when we get down there is find a coffee shop.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Cora looked down at the jacket he’d given her. “I can’t take this and watch you freeze to death. Because, if you think you’ll make it all that way with what you’re wearing, you’re—”
Holding up his index finger, Griffin smiled. “Give me a second.” He turned and strode off across the lightly dusted road. Just as he rounded the front of the bus and disappeared inside, it lunged forward and down, taking the SUV with it.
As the rear end of the bus moved by her, Cora felt the heat generated by the dying flames on her face and hands. She turned and ran toward where both vehicles left the side of the road, slowing as she reached the edge. “Griffin?”
The bus stayed connected to the SUV as the two slid down the short slope and quickly into a massive boulder just before the edge of the forest. What few windows were left intact from the initial collision, exploded on impact, sending tiny slivers of glass out into the air that were indistinguishable from the shards of snow falling to earth.
As her view of the area came clear, she focused on the front end. From where she stood, it appeared that the bus had pulled the SUV in and closed off the hole Griffin had entered multiple times.
Cora stepped quickly through the trail of shrapnel left behind, and called for him once more. “Griffin?” She turned the corner near the front and confirmed her suspicions. Both the drivers and passenger doors were torn off and the front end of the SUV had plugged the hole in the front of the bus. “Damn it.”
Attempting to see over the top of the smaller vehicle and into the bus, Cora leaned on the hood and pushed herself up. Nothing—no Griffin and no movement of any kind. The massive grave was dark, save for the few spot fires toward the back. There was also no sign of Trish.
Sliding back down and moving around the opposite side of the SUV, Cora tripped as she stepped on a rock that slid out from under her. She ended up on her backside, both arms covered to the wrist in upturned earth and wet snow.
Pushing back to her knees, his throttled voice found her before she turned to see the two bodies fighting to get to Griffin. He had them at arm’s length with the larger man’s knee in his throat. His mouth moved, but no sound pushed through.
Only having seen him for a few brief moments as she boarded the bus and then again on her way ou
t, Cora thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. The bus driver was dead. How he was battling with a slightly younger, albeit much larger man, wasn’t just curious, it was impossible.
“Griffin, are you alright?”
Both men turned their attention away from Griffin and faced her. Their eyes glassed over in a shade not all that different than the snow plastered in patches along their blood-soaked faces. The bus driver pushed off Griffin’s legs and limped toward her as the other also started to stand.
Furrowing her brow, Cora looked back at Griffin as he found his voice. She began to speak, but not before he cut her off.
“Cora… RUN!”
16
The signal at Third Street had cycled through two greens before Ethan turned away from the scene playing out in the parking lot of the Red Moose. His left arm slung over the door handle, and nudging David with the other, he said, “Billy Ralston, what do we do about him?”
Since noticing their vehicle sitting alone in the street, the man covered in blood had turned back to his victim. He clawed furiously at the motionless body below and came away with handful after handful of shredded flesh. Impulsively, he continued shoveling his reward quickly into his mouth, only pausing briefly to turn and survey the area.
Again, Ethan turned to his friend. “DAVID, LET’S GO. THIS IS SERIOUS.”
His head buried in his phone, David scrolled through one message in particular as he continued to get notifications every few seconds. He read through while only briefly looking back at the parking lot and up to Ethan. “Yeah, I know.”
“Okay,” Ethan said. “What’s the plan?”
His thumbs rattling off a response to the multiple texts he was receiving, David spoke but did not look up. “Not sure just yet. Whatever is happening with Ralston is nothing compared to what’s going on back in town.”
“Where?”
Glancing away from his phone for a moment, David looked out the passenger window and into the side mirror, before quickly returning to his texts. “According to Carly it’s going on everywhere.”
