Chapter 1 - Chase
The bus drew a collective breath as the passengers realized what was happening. The bus was breaking down.
Chase had gotten on the bus yesterday. It seemed a good—and less expensive—idea to take the bus rather than a plane to Florida, but nearly 24 hours later he was second guessing the decision.
“We can’t break down here,” someone said.
“Where are we?” asked Chase to the elderly woman sitting next to him.
“How should I know?” she said, as if angered at the thought of being mistaken for a roadmap.
He didn’t know what was worse, being nearly smothered by the man who sat next to him for 16 hours and took up both his and Chase’s seats, or the elderly woman that replaced the man and became more irritable whenever Chase shifted in his seat. He wanted to arrive to Florida and get off of the bus as soon as possible.
Though he told his uncle he’d take his time getting there, he found himself in a hurry to arrive at the alligator sanctuary owned and operated by his uncle in Florida. His uncle would be his new employer and landlord, not to mention the only family he had left.
From the front seat of the bus he saw the darkness of the night road illuminating. The bus’s headlights shone and made the crystal-like flecks frosting the street glitter. The snow reminded him of the life he was leaving.
Though 21, Chase spent most his life under the fist of a controlling father who’d always made Chase feel like a chided child or adult prisoner; it was always Chase’s job to shovel the snow, from both the mechanic’s garage his father owned, and from the large lot their dilapidated house had sat on. He was elated to be rid of both his father and the snow, neither of which he’d ever hoped to see in Florida.
“We can’t stop here,” said the grouchy old woman to the driver.
“We have to keep moving,” someone else said. A worried commotion seemed to spread throughout the dimly lit bus. Chase saw a few of the faces in the seats behind him. Some looked worried, others peered out of the bus’s windows into the darkness.
“What’s happening?” asked Chase.
“How should I know?” the woman replied again, rudely.
His question was to the driver, not the old woman, but he refrained from telling her this, respecting his elders. Chase got up from his seat—annoying the woman—and approached the driver.
The bus driver was in a panic. “Dispatch, come in. Come in, dispatch.” He repeated the calls several times over the radio which remained silent. “Shit,” said the driver. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Chase.
A loud bang and a hiss came from the back of the bus causing the passengers the scream. Chase glanced toward the rear of the bus then back at the driver. The driver’s attention wasn’t on the passengers, but on the driver side mirror. Chase angled to get a view of what was in the mirror. Smoke billowed from the back of the bus; reflecting red from the buses taillights, the smoke seemed a crimson veil between the bus and the dark pitch of the night.
“I can have a look at it,” said Chase. He’d never worked on a bus in his father’s mechanic shop but had plenty of experience tinkering with other types of engines.
“Stay put,” said the driver busying himself with re-trying the radio.
“Can you call a tow-truck?” asked Chase.
“They won’t come here,” said the driver.
A child on the bus began to cry.
“We gotta get outta here,” someone yelled. “Now.”
“We can’t go anywhere,” the driver yelled back. His words seemed to upset the crying child even more.
“Come in, dispatch,” said the driver to the silent radio again. “Come in, dammit.”
The radio remained dead.
“Shit,” said the driver. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Chase thought of the screaming kid and the rest of the already frightened passengers on the bus. He was annoyed at the bus driver. If the driver couldn’t stay in control how could the rest of the bus be expected to do so?
“Calm down,” said Chase. “Do you have a phone?” Chase’s phone had died two states ago.
“No use,” said the bus driver, whose hands were shaking.
“It’s okay,” said Chase, “won’t they look for us or send another bus?”
“We’re detoured,” said the bus driver. “We shouldn’t have come here,” he said, his eyes peering frantically out of the window. “They won’t find us. We shouldn’t have come here.”
“Calm down,” said Chase, “we’ll call somebody.”
It took no time to realize that phones were of no use as no one on the bus could get a signal.
A panic began to overtake the passengers. Chase could hear their whispers and worries gathering into a collective fear. Grayslake was the word Chase kept overhearing, along with “were-bears,” which sounded like a Care Bear’s distant step-cousin.
Chase cared less about superstition and more about the bus’s mechanical problems and the snow blanketing the night. He may not have been smart academically, but the years he’d been forced to work in his father’s auto shop would be more helpful right now than algebra or the periodic table. “Give me a flashlight,” said Chase. “I’ll check the engine.”
Chase made his way off the bus and toward the engine in the back after a short fight with the driver who at first refused to open the door. Chase was unsure what was more annoying, the driver threatening not to let him back onto the bus, or the biting cold that was punishing him for getting off the bus and trying to help in the first place. He lifted the hood in the back, cursing under his breath at the sight.
The engine spattered a gust of smoky warm air that caused Chase to cough. After waving away the smoke he peered into the engine. That’s not good, he thought, seeing the neon glow of antifreeze spattered along the engine and illuminating the snow on the ground like a radioactive snow cone.
Beeeeep!
The sound caused Chase to jump. Repeated blows of the horn, frantic, made his body to tense. Not helping were the screams coming from inside of the bus. Chase ran from the back of the bus back to the side door in the front.
The driver ignored Chase’s banging on the closed door.
Chase peered ahead and saw the grizzly bear staring into the bus’s headlights. The bear roared.
Chase froze, petrified at the sight of the massive creature with its large jaws and flesh tearing teeth. He took several steps backwards and turned to run before he knew that was what he had done.
His last thoughts were optimistic. Maybe he could outrun the bear.