July 5, 2018
The sound of a diesel engine wakes me. My head shoots up, and I feel a headache starting when my forehead connects with the window. I rub my knuckles against my eyes, in attempt to rub away the blurriness. To my success, my eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding me. I look out the dark tinted windows, watching the desert scenery fly by.
I'm on a bus...in the middle of nowhere.
I look to my right, and see girls wrapped in white clothing, either sleeping or crying, with duct tape on their mouths. I bring my hands up to my own mouth, realizing, I too, have duct tape, and my wrists are restrained with rope. I look down at my body, to find that it's hugged by a white, shaggy dress. Finally connecting the dots, I stare ahead in fear, panicking. I'm not just in any bus.
The Mystery Bus.
I stand up, only one thing running through my mind. Escape. I try to take a step, but to my dismay, my feet are chained to the metal bars below the seat in front of me. I yank my foot upward in frustration, and let out an unearthly sound. The door towards the front of the bus is slowly opening, and I sit back down, trying to make myself somehow disappear into the bus seat, but miserably fail when a guy appears next to my seat, and looks in my direction. He has a black bandana on his face, making only his eyes visible. His chocolate brown eyes take in my body, as I take this chance to do the same. A red muscle tee hangs loosely from his shoulders, showing off his tan, muscular figure. Further down, he's wearing a pair of ripped, white-washed jeans. Moving back up, I notice his hair is in a quiff, the dark brown hair looking flawlessly messy. My eyes finally meet his again, and I spot a hint of lust. I mean I can practically see his smirk right through the bandana. I give him a mean look, and he just reacts with one of his own. He leans in, and puts his hand to my cheek. He slowly brings it down to my chin, and rips off the duct tape, very harshly might I add. I let out a yelp, and smack his hand away. I ignore the burning sensation on my face and glare at him.
"Get up." he spits, literally spitting on me. I wipe my cheek dramatically, with a hint a sass. Correction, with a tidal wave of sass.
"If you haven't noticed, I'm kinda chained to this chair." I gesture towards the floor, where the rusty chains lie.
"I have noticed, now if you do as I say, I can unchain you." He says slowly, pronouncing each word, as if he's explaining this to a five year-old. I sigh, before obliging. He pulls out a silver key, and unlocks the burdens at my feet.
The second both my feet were free, I kick him in the face before he has the time to get up. I step over him, and sprint down the aisle, towards the front of the bus. Once I reach the door, I slam my shoulder into it, breaking the hinges. Cheap door. I step into the front, my eyes immediately landing on the red lever that opens the door to the outside of the bus. Unfortunately, the bus driver, who's dressed similarly to the guy I kicked in the face, but instead has a white bandana, sees me and tries to stop the bus. But before he does, I pull the lever and practically jump out the doors. Immediately regretting it, for the bus was still moving. I try to tuck and roll, I miserably fail when I hear my shoulder dislocate. I groan in pain, and try to walk it off. But seems I can't do that, when I fall back down. I bring my tied hands down my left leg to my ankle. I see blood trickling down my foot. Wait. I have to run. I get up as fast as I can, and dust myself off. As I'm about to take off, two rough hands grab my forearms harshly. I struggle to release from his grip, but that's kinda hard when you're sore and in pain. He wraps an arm around my waist, tight enough to leave a bruise, and leads me back to the bus. We walk down the aisle, but we pass my seat, heading towards a door in the back. I suppose it's a bathroom or something. He opens the door and throws me in. I land on the floor. Before I can get up, he kicks me in the gut. I clutch my stomach, and he kicks me again. I spit out blood, but it doesn't seem to bother him.
"Try something like that again, I'll make sure I do a lot more damage than that." He says, gesturing to my limp body. He takes hold of my forearm, and lifts me onto a dirty bed, like the ones in a doctor's office. Nope, definitely not a bathroom. There's not even a toilet, but there is a rusty sink.
"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" I speak up.
"Do you?" I shake my head no, "then don't worry about it." he snaps.
"And if I did?" I push him. Apparently he doesn't like that. He abruptly pushes my shoulders against the wall, and uses his free hand to fist my hair, and tilt my head to the side. He brings his face to my neck and whispers calmly.
"Then you pee in a cup, and throw it outside. Okay?" I shake my head as best I can with the grip he has on me.
"Good, now no more questions." He turns around, and pulls something out of the mirror cabinet, hanging just above the sink. When he closes it, I take that chance to take in my appearance. My hair is disheveled, my makeup faded, my face is smudged with dirt and dry blood, and my dress, once white, is now a light shade of tan. Which reminds me.
"Who changed me? And where did you put my clothes? Oh, what's your name?"
"What did I say about no questions?" he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Now to answer the last of your questions: me, in a duffel bag above your seat, and none of your business." I gasp.
"You changed me?! You're sick...whatever your name is. You know that?" He finally turns around, and I see a needle. Without any warning, he injects me with it, on the inner part of my elbow.
"The name's Jake, and it's my job." He slips a hand behind me and lays me down. Before I can protest, I feel my body go numb and I can't move.
"Is this the mystery bus?" I already know, but I need closure. He fills the syringe with something else, injecting it in my neck.
"Yes, ma'am, that it is."
Before falling into, yet another deep sleep, I manage to push out one more thing.
"You son of a..." My eyes flutter closed.
