Mr. Willows: Busdriver Extraordinaire
by Zachary Robert Long (6090 words, estimated reading time: 25 minutes)

The smiling face of Mr. Willows was the first thing that greeted Jenny as the doors to the bus swung open. It was that big wide smile he always had stupidly plastered on his face but some how it seemed even bigger, as if it had grown since she’d seen him last.

Jenny stepped onto the bus.

“Now then!” Mr. Willows beamed. “Everyone’s finally here.”

As Jenny made her way back to her friends he added, “We can finally start the trip off right.”

The bus kicked into motion.

Jenny could tell something was wrong almost immediately. But it was too late.

The first thing that told Jenny something was wrong was the silence. Normally the bus to school was loud, not as loud as the way home since everyone was still waking up, but loud. In this quiet she could hear a pin drop.

The second thing was the looks on everyone’s faces. Everyone had scared eyes, flashing between Jenny and Mr. Willows. The kind of eyes the characters had in the slasher movies her brother Bret liked. When they know the killer is behind them, that was.

Jenny was about to break the silence with the questions on her mind when a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her into a seat.

“Get down and shut the fuck up,” said Benji with a harsh whisper.

He was crouched with his head below seat level, his blond hair a tangle jutting out from under a backwards baseball cap. Next to him was Benji’s girlfriend and her best friend, Becca. She was cradling her head in both hands, staring at the floor.

“What’s going on?” Jenny asked.

“Shh, lower your fuckin’ voice. Do you want to die?”

Jenny looked at him with bewilderment. She could tell from the look on his face he wasn’t kidding, but that made less sense to her than if he had been. “What the hell is he talking about, Becca?”

Becca looked up at Jenny. Her eyes held none of their usual charm.

“It’s Mr. Willows, he’s been actin-”

Becca’s voice died as the first notes of a hummed tune hit their ears. It was Mr. Willows.

He was humming a Bob Marley song, as he did every morning.

“He seems fine to me, Becca,” Jenny said in a whisper. But if she believed that then why was she whispering?

“He was acting weird earlier,” Becca said.

“Dude’s straight tripping,” Benji whispered. “Keeps talking about playing a game and shit. He didn’t even pick up everyone.” Benji waved an arm to encompass the bus. He was right. Jenny hadn’t noticed because she got picked up at one of the earlier stops but most of the kids that were supposed to be there were missing.

Besides Benji, Rebecca and herself she saw Charlie, Hannah, Kyle, and Ernie. No telling how many people had their heads down like Benji did. Still, there should be close to twenty kids on the bus, not just seven.

“Maybe there’s a flu going arou-”

“Don’t be stupid. Mr. Willows kept talking about a game, said he just needed the final player. Then he drove out to your stop. And where are we now? I’ve been watching and I’ve got no idea where we are anymore.”

Jenny peered out the window and realized she didn’t either. Houses she’d never seen before flashed by. Street signs with names she didn’t recognize.

“We have to stop him,” Rebecca said. “Baby, stop him.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him,” Benji said while reaching into his backpack.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Jenny asked. “What can you do?”

“Don’t worry. I got this”

Benji pulled his hand out of his backpack quickly, trying to keep something hidden. He pushed Jenny out of his way as he stepped out of the seat. As he slipped by she saw what he was holding for a brief flash.

It was a knife.

“Jesus, Benji, what the hell are you doing?”

“Watch me.”

Benji snuck forward, going from seat to seat, one hand gripping the knife tight behind his back. Jenny watched him, her palms sweating. She knew she couldn’t let him do this. But what if she tried to stop him? Would he just stab her too? Mr. Willows was acting a little strange, but this was a ridiculous overreaction. Mr. Willows had always been nice to her. There must be some kind of misunderstanding, maybe a surprise field trip or something.

She had to stop Benji.

He was just a few steps behind the humming Mr. Willows. Sliding the knife around front. Getting ready to strike. If she ran, she could tackle him. Prevent a horrible tragedy. Her feet clanged against the metal floor as she propelled herself forward. She was just behind Benji, almost close enough to tackle him.

The knife was fully in front of Benji, his arm lifting above his head, preparing to tear its way through Mr. Willows neck, when a sound like a cannon being fired drowned out the humming, drowned out the sound of Jenny’s footsteps, drowned out everything.

Warm blood splashed against her face, soaking her neck and chin, soaking into her sun-dress. She fell onto her back but her momentum caused her to slide forward towards the front of the bus.

Then Benji fell on her.

A mass of limp muscle, one arm punching Jenny in the face to fall away lifelessly against the floor. A hole through the middle of his head leaked sticky red blood into her face and hair. She screamed and pushed the body off herself, not even realizing yet that it was a body. She crawled backwards until her back pressed firmly against one of the black leather seats and stared in horror at the corpse that had been her friend.

“And the game starts with a bang!” Mr. Willows shrieked with joy, his shoulders hopping up and down. “What game are we playing Mr. Willows, greatest bus driver of all time, even better than the legends like Jackie Rusco and Micky Fontane?” he said in a high pitched voice that wasn’t his own. Then in his normal voice, “Sorry, what was that kids?” Repeating the high pitch, he said, “What game are we playing Mr. Willows?” before answering, “Oh! A great game indeed!”

Jenny lifted herself into an empty seat while Mr. Willows was talking, the action an animal response, a desire to back as far away from Benji’s body as possible. With wide eyes she looked around the bus, looking for confirmation that any of this was real. Kyle and Ernie had disappeared from where she’d seen them in the back. Hannah’s head was buried in Charlie’s shoulder, who was trying to calm her down but failing. Becca, oh poor Becca, was rocking back and forth, arms clutching her legs against her chest, strange guttural sounds escaping her shaking jaw.

“The game is called…well now, that’s funny, I don’t remember what it’s called.” “How about a new name!” “Perfect idea children. We’ll call it Field Trip. Doesn’t that just sound dandy? Doesn’t it just make you so happy-happy?”

Jenny could see his eyes in the mirror at the front of the bus. He was watching them with an intensity that chilled her. There was no doubt in her mind that he was smiling, though she couldn’t see the lower half of his face. Just those eyes staring at her. Through her. Eating away her clothing, chewing through her flesh to expose her insides.

A drop of blood dripped into the corner of her eye. Blinking, Jenny lifted a hand to wipe it away but paused when she saw her hand was covered in the stuff. Then she realized it wasn’t just her hand. She was soaked in blood. Looking in the window she saw that her golden hair was dyed a thick, sickly red. Her face was covered in streaks of Benji. Fighting the urge to scream she spit on her hands and started to wipe it off the best she could, clawing and pawing at her face, the already drying flakes sticking under her fingernails. She followed it down her neck and realized it was all over her shoulders, her arms. Her sun-dress stuck against her breasts, having done nothing to stop the blood from soaking down to and through her bra. She yanked the dress off and flung it away from her in a fit of panic.

The air was warm against her skin but she had goosebumps up and down her arms. She kept clawing at her skin, trying to remove as much of the blood as possible. She wanted to remove her bra, debated it, but a glance towards the back of the bus made her think better of it. She wasn’t going to go topless around Kyle and Ernie, regardless of the situation.

Becca had a coat on, maybe she could borrow it.

Becca was a couple rows back. To get there Jenny would have to step out into the middle aisle, which meant stepping over Benji’s body. She couldn’t look at him there, laying so still on that cold floor. She just had to keep her eyes shut and hurry passed but it was too much for her. Instead she went over the back of her seat, fell hard against the seat behind. She repeated the process for the next seat until she was passed Benji’s body and could easily scoot into the seat next to Becca. The girl was still curled into a ball, shaking back and forth.

“Becca, give me your jacket.”

She didn’t seem to have heard. She just kept rocking back and forth.

“Becca, give me your fucking jacket.”

Nothing. Jenny yelled at her a third time but nothing changed. She raised her arm in preparation of slapping Becca. Jenny wasn’t upset with her or anything, quite the opposite. But in the movies they were always slapping people who were freaking out. The shock of being slapped pulled them out of their panic or something. Jenny didn’t know for sure why it worked, but it wouldn’t be in so many movies if it was entirely bullshit. Would it?

Jenny closed her eyes and slapped her friend. Only her hand never connected with her friend. Instead, it stayed right where it was.

Jenny hadn’t noticed Charlie making his way over to her and Becca, but he must have considering the fact he was standing behind her and holding her arm by the wrist. Nor had she noticed when he took his shirt off, though that also must have happened at some point.

“Here,” he said as he handed her his shirt, “Just let her be. Take mine. Come sit with me and Hannah.” Jenny let him lead her by the wrist back two rows to where Hannah was tucked against the window. She couldn’t stop herself from stealing a quick glance towards the front. Mr. Willows was still watching her in the mirror.

“I don’t know where we are,” Hannah said.

Charlie laid a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I don’t know where we are either babe. But he has to stop some time.” While this was happening Jenny put his shirt on then reached under to remove her bra.

Jenny didn’t know where they were either. The houses were gone now. Instead they were passing by green fields of grass. There was hardly a tree in sight. The bus was heading up a hill, giving a view of the valley that would’ve been gorgeous under different circumstances.

Instead, the sound of something solid being dragged across metal echoed throughout the bus. Jenny looked around for the source of the sound and instantly regretted it.

Benji’s body was sliding down the bus, one boot dragging across the floor as gravity pulled it onwards. Becca let out a yelp as it went by and twisted her head around to stare out the window. Her rocking movement replaced with a pitiable shaking.

Benji’s remains slowly made their way to where Jenny’s group were sat. Hannah shrieked and grabbed hold of Charlie’s hand. He squeezed her’s tight, though he was at a loss for words. Despite herself, Jenny couldn’t help but look. The metal floor of the bus was visible through the hole in his head. She gasped. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from staring through the leaking wound until it passed out of sight.

Mr. Willows’ joyous laughter shared an echo with Benji’s scraping boot.

They continued up the hill. It seemed to go forever. Jenny wondered if Mr. Willows was an alien, if this was all some sick game his kind played before blasting off into the space. It was a childish thought but it gave her some semblance of comfort. If she thought of Mr. Willows as the bus driver she’d known for years… that was just too much for her.

“Oh shit!” The yell startled her out of her desperate daydream. It sounded like Kyle.

“Shit man, NOW!” That one was Ernie.

There was a gust of air against Jenny’s back. She turned around to see the door at the back of the bus flying open. She saw something fall out the back. Kyle! He must of jumped! Then Ernie stepped forward to follow his friend.

“Oh now children,” Mr. Willows called in a sing-song voice. “Don’t you know the back doors are only to be used in the case of a fire? How are we supposed to have any fun if you keep breaking the rules?”

Suddenly the bus was swerving through the road, two wheels coming up off the ground. Jenny was thrown across the aisle. She crashed into a window, barely getting her arm up in time. The window shattered, her arm going straight through out into open air. Bits of glass sliced and stuck in her flesh. The window frame prevented her body from following her arm out. She tumbled into the seat below. The weight of her body pulled her arm back through the window, raking it along the shards still hanging to the frame.

Through the window Jenny saw someone tumbling across the pavement.

“Oh fuck, Ernie!” yelled Charlie. The sound drove hammers into Jenny’s temple. Blinking through the pain, Jenny saw Charlie sprawled across the aisle floor. Charlie was staring at the back of the bus where Ernie had just been. Not that there was anything to see that way. Just endless sky.

Jenny had been too busy slamming into the window to notice they’d pulled a one-eighty. The bus was now aimed down the hill.

Looking out the windshield she saw Kyle rushing towards the prone figure, which had to be Ernie. Kyle was trying to pick Ernie up onto his feet, but there was something wrong with the latter’s leg.

Then they started to get smaller.

The bus was backing up.

When it stopped, Kyle and Ernie were a good fifty yards away.

Ernie still hadn’t gotten up. Kyle ripped and pulled at Ernie’s shirt in a panicked attempt at elevation.

Then Jenny was pushed back, hard, into her seat.

The bus jerked forward.

Gaining speed.

Mr. Willows’ laughter the only sound apart from the engine.

Stomaches in throats, heartbeats bewailing in symphonic agony.

Prayers dashed against the shores of heaven.

Sinking deeper and deeper into earthly hell.

That goddamned laughter.

Now only twenty yards.

Kyle spotted the bus and ran, leaving Ernie where he lay. He was on the track team but Jenny had never seen him run before. She couldn’t believe how fast he was, how he was out distancing the bus.

There was a single lonely tree forty or fifty feet up the road. If he could make it he might be able to get away.

Or the bus could crash.

Jenny gripped the edge of her seat, not noticing the pain in her arm or the blood pooling in the seat. All attention was forward.

Ernie disappeared from the front window. Jenny waited long seconds for a bump.

Charlie rushed to the side to look out. “We didn’t hit him!”

“No,” Jenny said too quietly for anyone else to hear. “It’s the fun one he wants. The one playing along.”

Kyle got to the tree. Jumped up and grabbed a branch.

Twenty feet away.

He tossed one leg up over the branch.

Ten feet.

He brought his other foot up and over.

Five feet.

“He’s going to make it,” Charlie yelled.

Just then something went wrong. He must have slipped because all at once his hands came away from the tree in a wild flailing motion.

He fell backwards but not free. His foot was caught in the branches. He dangled upside down.

Jenny could see his eyes go wide as realization swamped over him.

It was too late.

Crash.

Jenny was thrown head over heels across the bus. She landed awkwardly against a seat so that her legs were elevated with her shoulders against the floor. Her vision went red as something wet washed over her eyes. Becca was on the floor of the aisle directly in front of Jenny, her head twisted at the wrong angle. Jenny reached out to her but tendrils of pain made it impossible.

Her arm was a mess of ragged cuts and pieces of broken glass caught in the folds of her skin and the meat underneath. Touching one was enough to make her vision waver.

“Oops,” the eerily happy voice of Mr. Willows sang out as he stood up from the drivers seat. Jenny was shocked by how normal he looked. He was wearing the same windbreaker jacket he wore every morning. Underneath was a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Greasy hair fell across his eyes. He made a show of puckering his lips and blowing it away. “Well that didn’t go quite as planned.”

He started walking down the aisle. Jenny struggled to crawl back against the wall.

“It appears we’ve had an accident,” he said as if it were the most typical thing in the world. “Little secret to share with you all: I’m not insured.” He laughed, a real deep belly laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? No? Well, that’s unimportant. Just means I’m going to have to ask you all to keep this accident a little secret just between us.”

“Fuck you,” Hannah screamed from near the back with Charlie.

“Gasp! Language now Miss Hannah,” he waved his finger back and forth in the universal symbol of tut-tut. “What would your parents think if they knew I let my kids use that kind of language? Might get the idea in their heads that I’m a bad bus driver and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

He kept advancing down the aisle as spoke. The children backed away, pressing themselves tighter into their seats or against the walls. He paused when he got to the still form of Becca.

“Gee, you look like a wreck Rebec.” He kicked her leg. It didn’t move so he bent down and, with a bit of a struggle, pulled her to her feet. “Well, would you look at that.”

He twisted her head around so it was completely backwards. “Seems Rebecca is having an Exorcist moment. We all best leave her alone for now.”

He dropped the body back to the floor and continued walking towards the back.

“In our losers category we have: lovely Rebecca; her prick of a boyfriend Benji; and everyone’s favorite…Kyle!” He pointed to each of the bodies in turn, simply flipping a thumb back over his shoulder to indicate Kyle.

He kept advancing until he got to the back of the bus, whereupon he shut the emergency door and pivoted on his heel to face the front. “Let’s see how he’s doing!”

A giggling Mr. Willows danced his way up the aisle to the front, making a show of kicking Rebecca’s head back around the right way. The engine kicked to life. All eyes were on the front as they began to back up.

Charlie and Hannah screamed. Jenny puked out her morning toast.

The bloody heap of thin flesh that had previously been Kyle fell to the ground. His leg left still dangled from the branch. All of his internal organs had been crushed, bursting out the sides of his stomach. His brains had been expelled from his eye sockets and ears.

Mr. Willows laughed and parked the bus next to Ernie where he was still struggling to stand.

“You son of a bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you,” Ernie screamed. His face was red with anger. Ernie and Kyle had been best friends since elementary school. As far back as she could remember, Jenny had always seen them together.

Mr. Willows opened the bus door and stepped down, his hips shaking to some imaginary song. Jenny, Charlie and Hannah went to the windows to watch as Mr. Willows opened the hood to the bus. They couldn’t see what he was doing but he spent a minute rooting around in there. He was holding jumper cables when he came out and around to Ernie’s side. Only the ends looked much bigger than normal, like they were the clown shoe version of jumper cables.

“Well champ,” he knelled down next to Ernie and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re still in the game!”

“Fuck you, you fucking creep.” Ernie spit at Mr. Willows, a glob of yellowy phlegm hitting him above his right eye. “I always knew you were fucked in the head.”

“You’re lucky you’re not on my bus, boy.” Mr. Willows voice dropped several octaves, became a harsh growl. “I wouldn’t let you swear like that. Now let me take a look at your leg.”

He tucked a jumper cable under his arm and grabbed a hold of Ernie’s injured leg. Ernie thrashed out against him, raining feeble punches against his arms and chest. A backhand to the jaw stilled the boy.

“Nasty break that,” Mr. Willows said, his voice almost sounding normal again. He pointed at the leg, “You see the way the bone is sticking out? We can’t have that.”

Jenny strained her vision but she couldn’t see any bone sticking out.

Then Mr. Willows slammed a fist into Ernie’s leg, the same fist that had just broken his jaw. A crunch rang out followed by Ernie’s pained screams, his voice distorted as his lungs and stomach twitched violently. He coughed up a mouthful of blood over Mr. Willows’ Led Zeppelin shirt.

Jenny could see the bone sticking out now.

Next to her, Charlie was yelling at a collapsed Hannah. Jenny hadn’t seen her faint, but she couldn’t blame the girl. She wanted to faint herself. It was only by the grace of shock that she was still conscious.

“You little shit,” Mr. Willows hissed as he reached down and grabbed hold of Ernie’s arm. “How dare you insult the Zeppelin. John Bonham died for the Zeppelin. Just for that, you don’t get to win the game.”

He stretched Ernie’s arm out then stomped on the elbow. Ernie screamed as his arm snapped in two.

“There. Now that looks almost as bad as the leg,” Mr. Willows shook his head in mock sympathy as he spoke. “You need a doctor. Lucky for you I’m here,” he thumped one first against his chest. “If you’d just stay still,” he said while lifting the arm he just snapped. “I’ll get you set up right away.” Mr. Willows attached one of the cables to the flesh of Ernie’s arm.

“No, stop,” Ernie mewled. He tried using his good arm to fend Mr. Willows off but his body had run out of fight already. Mr. Willows didn’t seem to register Ernie’s weak attempt at resistance as he calmly attached the other one to Ernie’s leg.

“There we go!” Mr. Willows stepped back to appreciate his handiwork. “You’ll be good as new in no time!”

Mr. Willows left Ernie there to run back to the bus, throw himself up all three steps in one leap, and land perfectly in the driver’s seat. It was the type of movement Mr. Willows made all the time. It creeped Jenny out now, however, because it reminded her that this madman was the Mr. Willows she had known and not some monster wearing his skin as a disguise.

“Now watch closely kids,” he hollered as he slammed one foot down on the gas. “This will help you pass science.”

Ernie’s body twisted and jumped in obscure and obscene ways. He was making a sound unlike anything Jenny had heard before, not quite a scream but something altogether worse.

Charlie was covering Hannah’s eyes, but no one was there to cover Jenny’s and she couldn’t make herself look away.

Then Ernie stopped twitching.

“Are we there yet?” Mr. Willows called back over his shoulder. “Nah.”

He revved the bus again.

This time Jenny clenched her eyes shut as hard as she could and clamped her hands over her ears to drown out Ernie’s noises.

It didn’t work.

After a long moment the engine died at last, leaving only the sound of Ernie’s wailing.

“Everyone,” Mr. Willows threw his hands in the air, “I need you to count with me!” He counted along on his fingers as he sang, “10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 3. 5. 1.”

Jenny still refused to look, refused to take part in this sick game any longer, either as a witness or participant. Then the engine kicked back to life, the bus suddenly rocketing forward as Mr. Willows slammed a foot down on the gas, and Jenny couldn’t keep her eyes closed anymore.

The first thing she saw was the line of cables snipping through the air. Then Ernie was hauled forward, his body smashing against the ground here and there, twisting around like a top spinning in a clothes dryer.

“We have to stop him!” Charlie yelled. Jenny turned her attention to him where he sat with Hannah, thankful that something could pull her away from the atrocity outside the window.

Charlie jumped into the aisle, drawing Hannah across the seat as she gripped onto his hand. He shook her free and ran up the aisle. Mr. Willows half turned in his seat at the sound of his bounding footsteps. But Charlie got to him first and drove a hay-maker straight into Mr. Willows temple. The bus driver let out a groan that sounded almost like a giggle.

Charlie started to really wail on him, fists falling in quick succession against his skull. Mr. Willows attempted to bat Charlie’s arms away but they kept coming. Charlie was finger painting red gashes across Mr. Willows’ head with his knuckles as Jenny and Hannah cheered him on.

Then all at once they were thrown forward again as the bus skidded to a stop. Jenny heard the sound of a window breaking as she landed badly on her arm, the breath knocked from her lungs. She could hear Charlie screaming in pain.

There was a thunderous detonation followed by silence.

Pulling herself back into her seat with her good arm, Jenny struggled to see what happened at the front of the bus. Blinking furiously until her vision finally straightened, she vomited for the second time that morning.

The sudden stop had thrown Charlie through the front window of the bus. He hung legs in, head out, suspended through the abdomen on a piece of glass. Bits from inside his stomach had fallen out to slide down the window on both sides, coming to rest on the floor and hood.

Mr. Willows stood next to him. Gun smoking in his hand.

“NOOOOO!” Hannah screamed. She ran forward passed Mr. Willows, ignoring him completely, singular in her focus on Charlie, sobs spilling out of her in ragged gasps as she took his limp hand in hers.

“Looks like we have another loser.” Mr. Willows waved the gun at Hannah. “Miss Jenny, would you be so kind as to check on Ernie for us?”

Jenny stood and slowly walked to the back of the bus. Dread filled every movement she made. She didn’t want to look out the back window, she didn’t want to see. She had already seen too much. If he had pointed the gun at her, she wouldn’t have moved. She couldn’t let him hurt Hannah though.

At last she looked and saw an arm and a leg trapped inside a jumble of jumper cables.

“How is our dear boy?” Mr. Willows called back.

“He’s… gone.”

“Dead?”

“No. Gone. Most of him.”

“Thank you Jenny.” He mock bowed. “You may take your seat.”

She walked back to her regularly assigned bus seat and sat down.

“Hannah,” Mr. Willows said in a soft tone that almost suggested empathy. “I need you to go back to your seat too.”

He gave her a gentle nudge. She screamed, slapped at his arm but let herself be moved. She walked down the aisle, stopped at Benji’s corpse and picked something up.

“Hannah, what was that?” Mr. Willows asked in the serious tones of an angry principal or a disappointed parent. “Hannah, what was that?”

Hannah turned around and Jenny saw nothing of her friend in those eyes. Just fire and rage. In her hand was Benji’s knife.

“Hannah, put that down,” Mr. Willows said in a wavering voice. “We have a game to play.”

“Fuck your game,” Hannah yelled.

“But we’re so close to winning…” There was a real sadness in his voice. It seemed almost blasphemous considering everything that happened. “Don’t you want to win?”

“Fuck your game!” Hannah yelled again though it was more of a sob this time.

“But don’t you want to avenge Charlie?”

“Fuck you-” the anger seemed to drain from her all at once. “…avenge him?”

“Oh yeah!” Mr. Willows jumped up and landed on the drivers seat perched like a satyr. Joy had flooded his voice again.

“I forgot to tell you what you’re playing for! Doh!” he hit himself in the forward with his palm. “How are you ‘spose to want to win if you don’t know what you’re playing for!” He shook his head, looked embarrassed. “The prize, my lovely ladies… The prize is the chance to kill me.”

Jenny blinked.

Hannah looked confused. “Kill you?”

“Take the gun. Put it to my head. Pull the trigger. Or you could hit me with the bus,” he chuckled. “If you have your license that is. Then you could just tie one of the cables around my neck and press the gas. Or, maybe, you’ll just let me die of old age,” he laughed again. “Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t go for that one.”

Jenny couldn’t believe it. After everything he was just going to let them kill him. She wanted to laugh at how absurd it was but she was simply speechless.

“But how do we win?” asked Hannah. “There’s only been losers.”

Jenny hadn’t thought of that. Mr. Willows never mentioned anything about points or even any rules to the game they were supposed to be playing.

Then the color drained from Jenny’s face. She knew the answer.

“We have to live,” Jenny whispered.

“Would you look at that,” Mr. Willows beamed. “My you’re a clever one, Jenny. That was exactly what I was going to say. You aren’t psychic are you? Quick, what numbers should I play for tonight’s jackpot?”

Jenny couldn’t look at that grinning face of his any longer. She turned her attention to Hannah, found she was staring her down. Jenny wanted to reach out and pull Hannah into a hug, tell her that things would be okay. But there was no time for that, wouldn’t be time ever again. Hannah’s mouth was moving, though no sound came out. It looked to Jenny like she was saying, “I’m sorry.”

Hannah suddenly charged up the aisle. Jenny threw her arms out to push Hannah back but Hannah ducked out of the way without slowing. Hannah slammed into Jenny. They went down in a tangle of limbs, falling backwards across Becca’s corpse.

Jenny felt something stab at her side. She screamed out in agony. Mr. Willows laughed. Hannah kept saying, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over again. Jenny reached down and touched her side. Her hand came away slick with blood. It took a herculean effort to lift her head enough to see the hilt of the knife sticking out.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. I had to… my mom… she’s sick,” Hannah blabbered on. The words were slow penetrating Jenny’s mind. She wanted to tell Hannah it’s okay, accidents happen. But this wasn’t an accident. Hannah had tried to kill her. Hannah had chosen to play Mr. Willows sick game. With that realization came a new feeling, something beyond the pain and fear that had clouded Jenny’s mind.

Suddenly there was anger.

Jenny punched out with her serrated arm. The glass embedded in Jenny’s arm sliced Hannah’s cheek open. Jenny grabbed Hannah’s ear and pulled as hard as she could. At first nothing seemed to happen. Then all at once there was the sound of a butcher’s shop and the ear tore free. Hannah was screaming, had been screaming for a few moments. Hannah brought her free hand up to make an exploratory investigation of the gaping hole on the side of her face.

Sensing her moment, Jenny shoved Hannah off of her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t accounted for the fact that Hannah was still gripping the knife. As Hannah fell back, the knife tore free from Jenny’s side. A wave of fresh pain washed over her, tightening her stomach.

Adrenalin pumping to handle the pain, Jenny stood as quickly as she could. It was an entirely ungraceful, slow process. She could feel blood leaking from her side as she shambled for the door, ignoring Mr. Willows and his laughter entirely.

A sharp pain to the back of her foot caused her to fall to her knees. Hannah had slashed out with the knife, caught the back of Jenny’s foot.

Jenny kicked Hannah in the face with her uninjured foot in time to stop another apology in its tracks. The impact broke Hannah’s nose with a sickening crunch.

Hannah raised the knife as Jenny geared up for another kick.

Jenny’s foot went through the knife. For a split second before the pain registered she saw the tip of the knife break through the top of her shoe. Then she was screaming a banshee cry of pain.

Hannah yanked the knife free. Jenny hurt too badly to move. She could hear Mr. Willows clapping as Hannah stood up.

“Bravo, bravo,” Mr. Willows walked over to where Jenny lay. “Well done, Hannah. That was fantastic.”He took careful steps to avoid Becca’s body. “That was just magnificent. Marvelous, even.”
Mr. Willows knelt down to look Jenny in the face. She could taste his rank breath on her lips. “You did fantastic too, Jenny. But there can only be one winner now, can’t there?” He looked up at her attacker. “Hannah, finish this won’t you?”

Hannah looked at the knife in her hands, tears streaming from swollen red eyes. She was still apologizing, mumbling her justified atonement, her confession, her amends. She stepped forward and looked down at Jenny where she bled on the floor.

Mr. Willows just laughed. A real hard belly laugh that required hands across his hips to hold him together. Hands on his sides, the right one just over his gun.

Pulling from a final reserve of strength hitherto unknown to her, Jenny reached out and pulled the pistol from Mr. Willows’ belt.

“Hey now,” he said with a start, the first real fear he’d shown all day.

The knife in Hannah’s hand arced down towards Jenny’s neck. Jenny held the gun across her chest and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked hard in her hand. The ringing in her ears drowned out the rest of the world.

The knife clattered to the floor next to Jenny’s head.

Hannah toppled backwards.

“Whoa!” Mr. Willows said, his voice recovering from its earlier fright. “It’s an unexpected third round come back from Miss Jenny.” He knelt down beside her, ran a hand gently through her hair. “I always knew you’d win. I knew the whole time. How do you want to do it?”

Jenny’s hand shook.

She couldn’t hear what Mr. Willows was saying. She was having a hard time focusing on him. Everything kept disappearing when she blinked.

He was standing next to her one moment.

Blink.

He was gone.

Blink.

The bus was moving.

Blink.