Death of a King

Chapter 39

This bus smells like sweat. And moldy cheese. And my great Aunt Patty's perfume.

    Luckily, the money Toby packed in with the food was enough to get me a bus ticket and a large fry from McDonalds. However, the closest bus stop to the compound was in the nearby town which still left me quite a hike. I didn't have a phone since I smashed the one I'd been using to speak with Dustin, but I suppose it didn't truly matter. I didn't have anyone else's phone number.

    I had hoped to use the lengthy bus ride to catch up on some sleep considering I've been up most of the night, but my nerves were shot to hell. I was too worried about Dustin to sleep but too tired think of any solutions. There were only seven other people on this bus; an elder couple in the back, a woman with a briefcase in front of them, a man with his hood pulled over his head, an older gentleman with a bouquet of flowers, and a scraggly mother with her young son in tow. All of them were asleep.

    Instead of sleeping myself, I fabricated destinations for my fellow passengers while picking at the cross pendant I had hung around my neck. The elderly couple in the back were on a vacation, the woman with the briefcase was on business and no doubt on her way to a luxury hotel somewhere down south. The man with the bouquet of flowers was surprising his wife on their anniversary, the mother and son were off to a better environment where they'd be safe and happy. For the most part, I conjured interesting but honest quests for them all.

    Except for the man with his hood up. He sat reclined almost entirely backwards in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and head braced against the window while he slept. His posture was familiar, that of someone evading. He was either dodging responsibility or running from the law. I knew enough criminals by now to spot one in public. This man, whoever he is, wasn't on this bus for any mundane objective. Then again, someone might think the same of me.

    The bus hit a rather large bump, jostling the passengers within and knocking the man's head into the window. The movement was enough to stir him and his head lifted.

    He looked directly at me.

    I whirled back around in my seat and sunk low to hide behind the backrest. It was too dark inside the cabin to see any distinct details but I recognized the structure of his face from somewhere. I couldn't place his familiarity but somehow I knew him, which meant he probably knew me as well. It was dangerous to run into acquaintances, right now most of all. I was on a mission to save Dustin, I couldn't jeopardize anyone telling my father about my plans for risk that he'd attempt to stop me.

    The rest of the bus ride passed without incident. I didn't chance any more peeks towards the man nor did he make any motion to intercept me while we rode on. But there was a newly formed tension in the air, one that hadn't been there before. Or perhaps, I just hadn't noticed it before. But I did now and that friction hung over me like a noose over it's next victim. One wrong step and everything I've fought for will be eradicated.

    After that, time carried on much slower but with dawn now blanketing the land in shades of lavender, the bus finally rolled to a stop and the lights within flickered on. At first, I was the only one who stood to leave but as I was collecting my duffel bag from the packing area above my head, I noticed the man with the hood had stood up as well. Together, we slowly shuffled off the bus and onto the platform, consisting of one wooden bench and a boarded up ticket booth.

    The dreary driver wished us a good day, then shifted the bus into motion. Squealing initiated as the bus began to move, then it gained speed and continued on it's journey.

    I had half a mind to stay on that bus, at least I would have been with other people. Witnesses in the case of an emergency. Now here I stood, in the middle of nowhere, mere minutes before dawn, with a man who wouldn't look out of place in a dark alley.