Frozen in the Red
Dakoda barely looked up when someone stepped onto the bus.
At first, she assumed it was just another student returning from the bathroom stop, or maybe one of the teachers finally coming back to get everyone moving again. Traffic had been backed up for what felt like forever, and the bus had slowly filled with the restless noise of bored teenagers.
Someone near the back was playing music too loudly through cheap headphones. A few seats ahead, two girls were arguing quietly about which mall they were going to hit once they reached Atlanta. Dakoda had been half listening while staring out the window, watching cars crawl past in the next lane.
Still, something about the movement near the front of the bus caught her attention, and her eyes drifted lazily forward.
Her brow furrowed slightly when she saw a man climbing the steps. He didn’t look like a teacher, or a driver, or even someone who belonged on that bus.
He looked… wrong. His clothes were soaked from the collar down, the front of his shirt clinging heavily to his chest as if he had spilled something thick all over himself. For a moment, Dakoda assumed it was alcohol, judging by the way he swayed. Maybe he was drunk and had stumbled onto the wrong vehicle.
She almost rolled her eyes. Great, she thought. Just what we need.
The bus driver turned in his seat, irritation already written across his face.
“Hey!” he started, “You can’t-”
The man lifted his head toward the driver, and Dakoda felt a strange chill run down her spine.
His eyes were cloudy, pale, and unfocused, as if he wasn’t really seeing anything in front of him. Then she noticed the wound just above his collarbone. A jagged tear split the skin of his throat open, and blood dripped steadily from it, running down his neck and disappearing into the soaked fabric of his shirt. Her brain refused to make sense of it.
No one else seemed to notice. Someone laughed behind her, and the music from the headphones continued leaking into the air. The bus still smelled faintly of plastic seats and old snacks.
Dakoda’s fingers tightened slowly against the vinyl seat beneath her. Something was wrong, and the feeling only grew stronger as the man took another step forward. His movements were stiff and awkward, like his body wasn’t working properly.
The driver frowned and leaned forward. “Sir, are you okay? You can’t be-”
The man lunged with horrifying speed. He grabbed the front of the driver’s uniform while his other hand clamped over the driver’s face, forcing his head back against the seat.
For a brief moment, Dakoda couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Then the sound reached her. A wet, awful, tearing noise as teeth ripped into flesh. Blood sprayed across the windshield.
Dakoda gasped and pressed herself back against the hard plastic seat as the driver’s gargled, choking scream filled the bus. Sunlight caught the blood, throwing a warped red glow across the front windshield. The man didn’t stop. He kept biting, tearing at the driver with a savage, animal instinct while low growls rumbled in his throat.
The noise on the bus began to fade as conversations faltered one by one and people noticed the spreading red across the windshield. No one moved. The shock of it held them in place, as if their minds refused to accept what they were seeing.
A scream finally cut through the silence, tearing through the bus like a fire alarm.
The girls sitting in front of Dakoda shot out of their seats, grabbing at each other as they tried to get away. One of them tripped in the aisle and nearly hit the floor, shrieking even louder as she scrambled for balance.
Run. The thought repeated over and over in her mind, almost screaming at her, but her body refused to obey. The world around her tilted, sounds stretching and warping as adrenaline flooded her system. Everything suddenly felt too loud and too far away at the same time.
At the front of the bus, the driver’s struggle finally stopped, and his body slumped lifeless in the seat. Low groans bubbled between blood-slick teeth as the man straightened, his cloudy eyes shifting toward the panicked noise beginning to spread through the bus.
Opposite Dakoda, another girl sat frozen in her seat. Her shoulders trembled as she pressed herself hard against the window, as if pushing hard enough might let her disappear straight through the glass.
Despite the stiff, jerking way his body moved, he lunged forward with sudden speed. His slick, red fingers curled over the top of the seat in front of him as he dragged himself closer.
The girl screamed, finally snapping out of her frozen state. Her nails scraped frantically against the window and the plastic seat as she tried to climb over it, but it was too late.
His hand caught the back of her jacket and yanked her down with terrifying strength. Her legs kicked uselessly as his teeth sank into her shoulder. Her scream, high and raw, only added to the symphony of panicked cries.
Hannah.
The name finally surfaced in Dakoda’s racing mind as she watched her classmate thrash against his grip, blood soaking into the blue fabric of her shirt.
“Help me! Please!” Hannah cried, reaching toward anyone who might help her, but no one moved.
The man pulled back, a string of flesh stretching away with him. Her arm fell limp almost immediately. He released her long enough to shove his hand against the back of her head, forcing her face down against the top of the seat. Her free hand clawed desperately at his wrist, trying to pry him away while her muffled sobs pressed against the plastic. Her screams only grew more frantic the longer she struggled.
Then the man’s mouth clamped down over her face with a sickening, wet crunch.
Something inside Dakoda finally snapped. Her shaking hands fumbled with her bag as she tried to sling it over her shoulder. Her ears rang with screaming and crying, mixed with the frantic scrape of shoes against the bus floor. Beneath it all were the wet, horrible sounds coming from the horrific scene across from her.
The smell was worse, thick and metallic, making her stomach twist violently.
She planted one foot on the seat, ready to push herself off, her head turning for one last look. The man had straightened again, looming over Hannah’s body, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes drifted down the aisle toward the rest of them, his lips drawn into something that looked disturbingly like a hungry sneer.
Dakoda’s body moved before her mind caught up. Adrenaline surged through her as she threw herself out of her seat, grabbing blindly for anything that might steady her. Her hands clawed over plastic seats, backpacks, and even someone’s sleeve as she pushed forward.Behind her, she could hear the man’s low groans, followed by the heavy, uneven thud of his footsteps as he lurched after the nearest movement.
Her legs trembled, her shoes slipping against the bus floor as bodies slammed into each other around her. Students surged toward the back of the bus in a desperate wave, climbing over seats and shoving past one another. Some tripped, dragging others down with them. Some were sobbing, while others were so shocked they simply stood frozen, staring at the horror unfolding at the front.
Behind her, another scream rang out as the man caught someone else, but Dakoda didn’t turn around.
At the back of the bus, the emergency exit had been forced open. Sunlight spilled inside through the doorway. It should have felt like safety, but instead it was just another fight to reach it.
Dakoda pushed through the crowd, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she shoved past anyone in her way. Someone grabbed her ankle, crying and begging for help. She didn’t look down. She couldn’t force herself to.
When Dakoda reached the exit, she jumped.
Her shoes hit the asphalt hard, but someone else launched themselves out behind her at the same time. The impact slammed into her back and sent her sprawling across the rough road. She barely felt it as her knees and palms scraped painfully against the pavement.
Outside was no better than inside. Her classmates ran in every direction, some together, others alone, only to run straight into more of… them. She watched in horror as another man came around the corner, his hand tangled in the hair of one of her classmates as he dragged him backward onto the ground, his other hand clawing into the boy’s stomach. A symphony of groans and pained screams filled the air as more of them appeared, catching her classmates as they scattered.
She scrambled to her feet, her lungs burning and her ears ringing so loudly she didn’t even realise she was screaming until her throat began to ache.
Then she ran.
