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| 3 | 1958 |
| 3 | 1958 |
Ah yes, the cold, creeping smell of rotting deadwood forest. Quite a smell, if anything at all. Logs, animals, rotting away into nothing. The worst part of the trip by far, but hell, we were paying three grand for this one, so we may as well endure. It's just what has to be done, even if we don't like it. No one does. We've taken this trip several times, no one likes it. Not the students, the teachers, not even the redneck guides like it. It's a gross, ominous smell.
Bathed in pale, silver moonlight the forest even creates an evil illusion. I never have a good feeling passing through here, but it gets me out of class, so what can I do? It isn't cheap, but beyond the decrepit forest it's a nice trip. Nature tours and the like.
One week out of school. Happens four times a year, this is the last. I went on each of them, blowing off eight grand total. I paid for most of it, with some pitch ins from my family here and there. It took me a long summer of work for the money, and now it's all gone. Of course, the rest I spent on some paranoid surprises I have on me if we crashed. I know we won't, but of course, it doesn't hurt to be prepared.
This wood is enormous. From the maps David has up front, it's nothing but rough, rugged, rotting forest. An enormous one at that. We pass the whole thing each time around. It's four hundred miles across. God knows how many square miles of this place there are.
But why am I rambling? My name is Silver. Well, that's my nickname, and that's all you'll know me by, isn't it? I'm on a trip across this enormous part of the country. We travel two thousand miles in a week. Fun, doesn't it sound? Well, sometimes yes, sometimes no. Mostly it's just me chatting with people I could care a less about. Some are smart, some are stupid, some are just weird. Some athletic, others lazy. From all walks of life, we are. At least we're on a nice bus, that's all I can say. Not one of those dreaded school buses we ride most mornings. No AC or heat, suspension that barely works, and a near dead engine that doesn't work half the time. No, this is a nice bus. I don't mind it. Nice, big and clear windows. Apparently they aren't glass, so they work shatter. They said they were Plexiglas. That makes them sound like plastic glass. No doubt they are, I'm assuming.
The road along this road is horrible. It's only for a few miles, but it seems forever. It's an adrenaline rush the whole way. We always seem about to die. Some people love it, I don't. If the road could feel pain, I'd punch it. I should probably punch the driver for not figuring out how to clear this road properly, but then the guides would shoot me. I've never been to keen on eating lead, so I'll hold back.
Anyways, it's smooth I think. Black ice smooth. Oh well. The landmark I identify as the end point is coming up, so now I won't feel like I'm about to die . . . .
I think I just heard a pop. Something is skidding. Oh no. Here I go again. I'm going to die. Whoa. We're sliding. Oh shit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a loud crash as the drive shaft of the bus shattered and came loose. Within seconds the buses' emergency rear brakes lock, causing the bus to slide sideways at a heavily exaggerated angle. The front was facing the edge of a cliff, and was sliding ever closer until the front end went over, followed very shortly by the rest of the bus which crashed down the cliff, went sideways, split in half, and began a lethal roll down the mountain.
The front end exploded as the fuel tank erupted, killing everyone up front. Loud screams were heard as some of the ill-fated passengers were thrown from the vehicle into their certain deaths.
The rear end of the vessel was barely more fortunate. It spun down the mountain at blinding speeds, ripping and tearing all the trees in it's ways. Many of the students towards the rupture point were thrown from the bus, tumbling and screaming to their deaths in gut wrenching splats.
The bus rolled for upwards of thirty seconds before coming to rest. Nearly everyone had been killed. Nearly.
Ah! What happened?
Delete the above post, any mods who see this.
Thanks!
Next:
All around the bodies were shredded, bloodied and torn beyond all recognition. Nobody was recognizable in the slightest, crushed and mangled. Those who were unfortunate enough to be on the rear half, the not exploded half, died slow and horrific deaths. Virtually no one had survived the initial crash, and several died from their injuries, except one: Silver.
No sooner had the crash happened then he was down low, clinging on for dear life. Everyone in front of him had been thrown, and everyone behind crushed or mangled. He was in a golden spot, not crushed nor thrown. Whether that was good or bad was questionable, as his injuries were most certainly mortal: Major lacerations and bruises, three broken ribs, a broken nose, two lower vertebrae, a complete fracture of his thigh bone in seven places. Broken and bloodied he lay under his seat in the wreckage, unconscious.
Of course, the forest was a dead and decrepit one at best, there were still inhabitants. Many, in fact, layered in small villages throughout the wood. Maybe Silver was lucky this day, as by mere chance a lone wanderer from one such village managed to stumble by the wreak site, and dismayed as he was, began looking for salvage from it. This region was very poor, and any potential money makers such as a crashed vehicle were not given up, despite even dozens of bodies. Feed the dead before the living, right?
"Hello?" A cautious and slightly unnerved voice rand through the silent air. The person behind the voice was not expecting company, but did not think it would hurt to check.
The originator of the voice is that of Lucien Grabarczyk, son of a local scrapper and of course out doing his fathers bidding. But today he woke up different, feeling somewhat chipper. He felt something different about today, and in his mind, maybe this crash was it. Maybe.
As he searched the wreckage, he made sure to check every body he came across, just to make sure he wouldn't have to bother calling for help. All the while he was filling his scrap cart, what he was here to do. He checked everything: Old electronics, new electronics, some maps, MRE's, canned food, chocolate, pistol. Wait, pistol? What was a pistol doing on a bus?
Automatically he though something was fishy. He kept it to himself for later, and continued on with his search. Gradually he made his way to the aft section, the one half intact, and made a point to search everyone. He got to about the fourth row in with no bodies until he stopped by someone strange. Someone almost giving off pulses of life. He had no medical knowledge, and so just checked for breathing. He got awfully close when the person suddenly opened his eyes.
Both were shocked, Silver moreso, having thought he was dead, even though thinking such is a paradox in itself. Lucien just stepped back a little, a little surprise registering on his face.
"Well I'll be," Lucien said, moreso to himself than to Silver, "What do we have here?"
Silver could barely speak, but managed a raspy "Help."
"Be back in a flash," Lucien answered, "Don't die quite yet."
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