Alivia
The Bookworm
The cold, harsh wind roared outside of the bus.
Jack was sitting in the back of the bus, his
old phone held against his ear as he tried
to get a hold of his parents. Or anyone, really.
It'd been a few days since the bus had broken down.
The lines went dead about a few hours ago, and everyone
was trying to reach their parents. Trying to figure out what was
going on. Finally, he shut off his phone, in frustration, to preserve
the battery, and shoved it in the pocket of his backpack.
He glanced around the other students, wondering when help was
going to arrive. If help was even sent. Jack was one of the few students
that believed no one was on their way to rescue the teenagers. He, and
a handful of other students, wanted to stop waiting for help and help themselves.
But the majority of teenagers were still clinging on to the hope that someone
was on their way to help. Jack was beginning to grow worried, and even as
he tried telling everyone that help wasn't coming, they dismissed him,
and continued waiting.
A few more hours passed. He was getting hungry. And he wasn't the only one.
Jack had a granola bar, a bottle of water, and a few bars of chocolate left by
this point. He felt a gnawing pain in his stomach as he stared out of the bus window,
wondering why the lines were so silent. He hadn't remembered the last time the lines
went dead for this long. Finally, he stood up, slung on his backpack, and walked down
the isle, towards the bus doors. In the front seat, the bus driver laid unconscious. A
few people thought he just had the flu. Others thought it could be more serious.
But no one could really know for sure. Mr. Jones had been throwing up that morning,
Jack remembered.
"I'm heading out to get help. If anyone wants to join me, come along.
I'm not going to sit around and wait anymore," Jack spoke up, looking among
the worried, tired faces that gazed up at him. A few stood up, but no more then a quarter
of all the students. He heard people murmuring towards one another as he stepped off the bus,
greeted by the unmerciful cold that chilled him to the bone. He glanced back at the students behind
him, shoving his hands in his pockets. He nervously started walking along the road, and anyone
that decided to help out followed him into the unknown. They all stayed close, and walked for
hours. Never did they once see a car pass by. He thought it was strange, but brushed
off the strange, sinking feeling he felt.
They could see a gas station ahead. Lights flickered on and off in the distance.
The tired students eagerly ran towards the fading light. Little did they know what
was held in the building.
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