9

No one else saw it, but none of us doubted there was something out there to see.

“We got some food still,” Steve said. “And water. We can settle in for awhile, think things over.”

“And if we need to go to the bathroom, do a one or a two?” Cory asked.

“Hang it out the window,” Steve said. “Have someone watch so whatever those things are don’t crawl up your ass.”

“It’s the bathroom part I hate the most,” Reba said. “Not having privacy and some place comfortable to go. And, you guys, you may do number ones, but you don’t do number twos. Way some of you smell, those have got to be number fours.”

“On that note,” Steve said, “what say we hustle up something to eat?”

“And might I suggest we eat small,” Grace said. “We want time to figure on Homer’s plan.”

“I just love that part,” Homer said. “Me with a plan.”

After eating, we decided on lookouts. We started with Steve. Way we worked was we let the ones who felt the least tired do the watching. There was no way for us to know how long a watch was, so we just had to go by instinct. If someone felt they wanted to watch for awhile, they took over, replacing whoever was on duty at the time.

The plan was, everyone got a watch.

The rest of us, though not sleepy, tried to sleep anyway. It wasn’t that hard, really. Boredom, fear, depression, it all helps you sleep. Only problem for me is, it didn’t really give me freedom. In my dreams I thought about the same things I thought about when awake.

As for the plan to escape, nothing more was mentioned about it for a time. But, I did feel my ears pop a couple of times, and I reported it to Grace.

We were sitting up front of the bus, me and her and Steve, and she was speaking softly. She said, “Homer’s plan gives hope, such as it is, but I don’t know it will actually work.”

“It was really your plan,” I said.

“Of course,” she said. “Thing is, could be our ears pop when we go down, and when we come up. Trick is to know which is which.”

“Ah,” I said.

“I think I can tell the difference,” Grace said. “There’s a real pressure when we go down. It’s subtle, but it’s there. When we go up, or when I think we go up, I feel… well, lighter. Thing is, I’d like a few days to really get used to feeling it.”

“I get you,” I said.

“We go off half-cocked,” Steve said, “we’ll drown like rats.”

“We’ll probably drown like rats anyway,” I said.

Later in the day, a new problem presented itself.

It was on my watch. I was at the back, looking out the window. Bjoe’s minions had carried off the bodies and gone away, but from time to time they showed themselves, moved as far down the grid as they dared, right at the edge of light and shadow.

Bjoe came once. I don’t know if he could see me well or at all, where I stood at the back window. I’m sure he could see the outl ine of the bus, surrounded by piled cars on either side, but one thing was for sure, I could see him, out there beneath the bright lights.

From what Bjoe had said I could be assured he wasn’t a Christian, but, by golly, he had all the makings. Narrow-minded, mean-spirited, judgmental, and hypocritical. He may have been a little too well educated, but on all other fronts he would have made a hell of a fundamentalist, even if he was coming from the opposite end of the spectrum.

All he needed was a suit and a tie and a pulpit. He was just the sort to have a choir boy bent over a spare pew, or his hand in your pocket when you weren’t looking, all the while telling you how he knows the truth and you got to get with the program, Brother.

In a way, he had his own congregation. The fish cave folk. We were to be their source of wine and wafer, flesh and blood. I’d had a run-in with that type before, when we were originally in the drive-in.

But, this wasn’t the problem. At the moment, this was an annoyance.

The problem was Cory.

No one was sleeping now, we were just taking turns at the back of the bus, and Cory, he went to the center, said, “I think we’re all going to be together, then we got to share better.”

“How’s that?” James said.

“The women.”

“Hey,” Reba said. “I think the women get a say in that.”

“Listen here, now,” Cory said. “Under normal circumstances, I’d agree. But I’m tired of bumping James in the butt. It ain’t satisfying.”

“And there’s that shit-on-your-dick factor,” James said.

“That too,” Cory said.

“Then stop doing it,” Reba said.

“Well now, I’d like to,” Cory said. “Me and James have talked about it. We don’t like it none. We ain’t homos, but we do want to get off.”

“Jerk off, and shut up,” Grace said. She was still at the front of the bus, and now she rose from her seat, stood in the aisle. She stood with her legs spread, her naked breasts rose with her deep breathing. She looked formidable, but she also looked good, standing like that, her breasts revealed.

Steve said, “What she said.”

“It don’t have to be nothing special,” Cory said. “And you girls wouldn’t even have to care or like it. We could do it from behind. You could look out the window. But I say we all get a turn. It ain’t right that we shouldn’t. We got needs. We’re human, and this ain’t like at home. Social business and manners, they ain’t no good here. It ought not be that Steve and Jack here are the only ones getting their pudding tossed. I say, right now, we make a deal: you gals give it up. I don’t know we can measure time on whose turn it is real easy, but we can work something out. Grace, you and Reba, you can take turns, you can-”

It was quick, I’ll say that.

Grace, who must have been twenty feet away, was suddenly running down the aisle, very fast toward Cory. I knew in my heart of hearts she wasn’t hastening to give him some nookie.

I was right.

She leapt in the air.

Cory tried to step back.

He threw up his hands.

Too late.

Grace’s foot snapped out, and she made with a loud yell, and her leg sliced right between his lifted arms and caught him in the face and there was a cracking sound and his head turned quick and he made a noise like someone who had just stepped on a tack.

When Grace hit the floor of the bus, Cory was already there.

I forgot all about my turn at the watch. I moved forward, stood over Cory. His mouth was open, and blood was coming out of it. His head seemed awkward on his neck. His eyes were open, but they had a kind of “I’m wearing milky contacts” look.

Homer eased up, bent over, and touched his fingers to Cory’s neck.

“I don’t feel nothing.”

I bent down and checked him out as well. I’d seen enough of it now to know one thing for certain. I was looking at death.

“Dead,” I said.

“No, shit,” Grace said.

“Yeah,” I said. “No, shit. You kick a guy in the neck like that, it ain’t just gonna modify his speech patterns. A

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