Wednesday Morning Pandemonium

On Wednesday morning the school bus numbered twelve stops at Hillview and Eureka, and five kids, one of whom will die in about ten minutes, climb aboard. Jordan and Sam, best buds, find places near the back and sit across from each other. Annie joins Jillian, who’s waited anxiously, saving her friend’s seat for four spots now, drawing on her pink backpack all the while. Dan sits down across from them, but they pay no attention to him. Meg, always last in line at the bus stop, quietly claims her spot at the very front of the bus, next to the driver, Mrs. Pamela Howe, or Ms. Pam.

Meg’s morning routine progresses without fail, as Ms. Pam cheerily says hello. She returns the greeting and stares out the window.

Jordan finds a pen in his backpack—a cheap Bic, not the gold-colored one he wants to swipe from his dad’s desk—and pokes it through the leather seat back in front of him. Sam smiles approvingly and takes out his own pen. But a reprimand from Tom a few seats over stops him from becoming his friend’s accomplice. “You guys know the principal yelled at Vicki for doing that couple days ago?” Jordan glares at Tom but knows he’s right. He makes one more hole and puts the pen away.

A few seats up, Annie and Jillian fawn over Annie’s new lime green shirt. The color’s absolutely stunning, they coo. Dan thinks so, too. He’s been sneaking glances at Annie since she got on the bus. He wishes he could explain why he’s so interested in her and that shirt.

As the bus nears the corner, Meg sees a man run into the street. Ms. Pam screams, silencing the children. The man stands in front of the bus and points a shotgun at the driver. He mouths an order: “Turn off the bus and open the door.” Hand shaking, Pam complies. He boards the bus.

Aside from the shotgun, he doesn’t look very dangerous. He’s short, clean-shaven and almost grotesquely thin. He lifts his hand to his head and lets his skinny fingers traipse awkwardly over his balding skull. Sam knows he should be more scared, but he thinks this guy looks so funny, especially the way his eyes keep bulging out at the children.

“Hey, driver,” the man says. “Go and wait outside. Anyone asks, tell them I’m holding up your bus. But no one gets on. Okay?”

Pam says, “Okay,” and gets off the bus. Someone lets loose a sob. A few kids take this as a cue and start crying as well.

“Yeah, cry,” the man says, training his weapon over every terrified face. “I’m going to slaughter busloads of you shits.”

Outside, people approach the bus. Of course they want to know what’s going on, and Pam tells them. A guy whips out his cell phone and dials 911. As he’s relaying the story to the operator, a shot is fired.

Before it happened, Dan watched the man aim the gun at him. He just stared at the barrel, imagined a bullet tearing out of the blackness. He knew for sure it was going to happen. And then—

A blast. Blood spurts like fireworks from Dan’s face. His head tilts back against the seat. Everyone screams. For a brief moment Annie just feels frustrated with the fresh blood staining her brand-new shirt.

“See! SEE!” the man shouts. He’s shaking all over. The screaming and crying sounds like thunderous applause. He fires at the ceiling, at the emergency exit. He pumps the gun and feels his dick harden.

A girl in the back seat reaches for the emergency exit. The man fires another shot, and a bullet whirs past her fingertips. “Holy shit!” he screams. “Don’t even think about leaving!” He walks to the front of the bus and pulls the door shut.

The police arrive. The kids feel a little better when they see the lights flashing blue and red. However, Mr. Tremley, a bystander, knows the cops won’t stop this without more children dying. But he thinks he can. He reaches into his jacket and feels the comforting solidity of his handgun.

The gunman isn’t afraid of the cops. He knew they’d show up. He’ll shoot his way out, mow down the fucking fuzz. But first…he aims his shotgun at the girl sitting next to the emergency exit. She should die next, right? The stupid cunt tried to make a run for it.

He fires, and she shrieks, a bleeding hole in her side. He aims again, for her head. A window shatters. The gunman staggers and falls forward into the aisle. A tell-tale pool of blood forms around his head. Kids step over his body in their race for the exits. Jordan and Sam carry the wounded girl out the emergency exit.

By now the area surrounding the bus has become a wild spectacle as onlookers reach for and cling to any child wandering past. They watch, horrified, as the paramedics lead the girl onto a stretcher. It’s much worse, though, when they bring Dan out with a sheet draped over his body.

Police and grateful bystanders huddle around Mr. Tremley. A few of the children associate him as their savior but are too shaken to go over and thank him. They don’t say anything to anyone. It was some morning.