Run With The Wicked

Chapter 5: Fine Print

The above image is of Reece

The last of the crowd of students made their way onto the large peoplemover parked on the sidewalk, Blonde hairs stuck to Reece's forehead as he ran desperately trying to get to the bus in time.

He flailed his arms, screaming after the mustard coloured bus that began to shifting from its stationary position. My feet thudded against the bitumen; mimicking the sound of the boy's lanky, frantic steps in front of me.

"Hold the doors!" He yelled, his hand reaching the door just as they began to seal shut. He barely got out with his hand, as that was the only thing stopping the bus from leaving us behind. He clambered onto the bus, I followed, climbing on in relief, sweat built up underneath my shirt collar.

The grungy bus driver gave him an irritated look through the clear panels, and then hesitantly pried the doors back open to allow Reece and I to slip inside.

I glanced behind me, the doors shut swiftly. The bus engine revved, and the bus began to move. Reece and I were still standing, exchanging looks of relief. It was only when we turned around, our speech broken by our shortness of breath, that we realised the entire bus was staring at us.

Embarrassed, I tugged at Reece's school shirt and we plunked ourselves down in the nearest set of seats, which happened to be closer to the back.

I couldn't help but laugh. I was actually momentarily glad that I could barely talk, because my fits of laughter probably would have burst like an entire hoard of balloons at once. I held my hand over my mouth and the other to my stomach, laughing silently into my hand.

Reece kept his eyes locked on me, staring at me as if I was going to grow another head or something. It took him a while, but eventually his neutral expression faltered against his will, and he too was soon giggling under his breath.

Reece was still mostly quiet after the clock tower incident. It was moments like these that became scarcer, which made me, want to cling to them even more.

Mr Blunt rose from his seat at the front of the bus and turned to the student body, clipboard in hand. He cleared his throat in that weird way teachers do when they want your attention.
"Now that we're all here,"
He shot Reece and I a look. "I want to make sure you all know what is happening and the rules that apply."

"First, our trip to the ranges is a privilege, even though this may be for your science class there will be consequences if anyone should misbehave."

He pushed up his large glasses up his nose, pointing icy glares at students who he thought were trouble.

"Secondly no wandering off. You must take a teacher with you at all times. Even though some of you in here are considered adults, we are still responsible for your safety round the clock." The teachers nodded in agreeance.

Fitting, seeming as though we were all dressed in identical school uniforms they would want to tell us apart. I fidgeted with collar of my dress shirt, the restriction of the outfit making me sweat even more than the short run did.

"Thirdly, as this is supposed to be an active day, there will be no mobile phones." A female teacher walked around the bus with a large bucket as Mr Blunt gave out his instructions.

Students openly voiced their complaints while reluctantly placing their mobiles in the plastic container.

I could tell that this trip would be a bore, the only times we were ever let out of St Tournes were for tedious classroom exercises and the once a month treat where we were able to explore the town for a matter of a few hours. This was when all out time in scholastic refinement was eliminated and the students were free to parade around and visit shops, clubs and food outlets, basically anything you could think of.