Call Me Martin

Stories

### Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Seven weary passengers on an overnight trip to Chicago suddenly find themselves trapped in an abandoned town where they become the pray of demonic winged creatures who attack and feast on them For the passengers of Bus 28, heading from Louisville to Chicago, life is about to take an unexpected detour. An otherwise dreary overnight trip suddenly becomes a struggle for survival against a menace that cannot be stopped and is determined to hunt each passenger down and feed. The only hope of the seven passengers of Bus 28 is to find a way to fight back and to learn a dark and terrible secret of a fellow passenger

Complete Chapters 17

Rating 4.8 ( 33 reviews ) Age Rating mature

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Chapter One

“Bus 28 to Chicago,” The voice crackled over a loud speaker. Seven passengers were waiting, the warm Louisville, Kentucky sun baking their backs. One of the seven stood apart, a man with a long black trench coat reaching down to his knees. He wore a gray fedora that drooped down over his forehead. Both hands were buried in his pockets.

The bus pulled up just as a groping, dark cloud swallowed up the sun. The man in the trench coat moved to the back of the line as the doors opened to reveal a large-bellied bus driver with mirrored sunglasses. He began to call out names. Wilson Petty? Tremor? Three black youths hurried onto the bus while a large, big-boned man with a blonde crew cut and a gym bag pulled himself up. “Wilson Petty, right here, dude.”

Three other passengers made their way onto the bus.

“Martin Dorian?” The bus driver asked.

The man in the trench coat slowly climbed up. He was thin and frail looking, no taller than 5’6”. He reached two gloved hands up to grab the rail. The bus driver narrowed his eyes as he watched the man in the trench coat walk to the back of the bus.

“Phillips. Amber Phillips?” The bus driver called out, looking at his manifest.

Just then, a young African American girl ran ahead of a much older woman who shouted after her to slow down. The girl wore a pink dress and had two pink ribbons in her dark hair.

“Is that your mother?” the bus driver asked.

“No, she’s the child services lady.”

The woman caught up to the bus, panting and wiping her forehead.

“Sorry, Mister, this is Amber Phillips.” The woman handed the bus driver a small card. “She’s being turned over to her Aunt Yvonne in Chicago.” The woman paused. “Her Mama can’t take care of her no more.”

The bus driver looked down at the little girl.

“Okay, you are to stay in your seat and when we stop, you don’t leave the bus without me, okay, Amber?”

Amber nodded and gave everyone a big smile.

The door hissed shut and the bus pulled away. A clap of thunder rattled everyone’s teeth as the bus knifed into a curtain of rain. Little Amber crawled on her seat to look out the window. Lighting danced across her eyes as she turned to look at a small-framed man who sat at the back of the bus. He wore dark Gargoyle sunglasses over a fake nose and a fake chin. Little Amber glanced at the bus driver and carefully made her back to the stranger.

“What’s with your face?” She asked.

The stranger reached a gloved hand up to tap his artificial chin. “It’s a mask.”

“Something happened,” the stranger answered.

“What’s your name?” Amber asked.

“Hey,” one of the three black teens who had crammed into a seat near the emergency door said.

“Not talking to you all,” the boy said. He leaned forward and pointed to Amber. “Little girl, why you talking to that strange man?”

“He’s not strange. His name is Martin.”

“Martin?” The boy laughed. “Hey, Martin, you a pervert that likes little black girls?”

The man named Martin didn’t answer.

“Tremor!” one of the other boys said. “Leave him alone. You want to get us busted.”

The boy named Tremor stood and glanced at the bus driver before making his way to the rear of the bus.

“Hey,” he said to Martin. “Are you white?”

Martin paused and slowly shook his head.

“No,” Martin answered in a loud whisper.

“Shit, you’re Chinese. You guys are everywhere.” Tremor narrowed his eyes. “Why you wearing a mask? Are you that ugly?”

Tremor tilted his head, his hostile demeanor softening.

“I had an incident at work.” Martin shook his head. “Really bad. You don’t want to see what I look like.”

Little Amber suddenly stood and looked Tremor in the eye.

“The gentlemen in the back,” the bus driver’s voice blasted over a speaker. “Please return to your seat.”

“I thought we didn’t have assigned seats,” Tremor protested.

“We do now,” the bus driver countered.

“Shit,” Tremor said, glancing from Amber to Martin. He stood and headed back to his seat.

A bespectacled, middle aged man in the first row turned to look at Tremor as he sat back down and buckled his seat belt.

“What the fuck you looking at, you pasty-white geek?” Tremor asked.

The middle-aged man turned away.

“Excuse you,” the bus driver said, making eye contact with Tremor in the rearview mirror. “I have a panic button on my steering wheel. I press it and every highway patrolman in this region will be on us like white on rice. And your public pretender will not even know about it.”

“Defender,” the middle-aged man with the glasses corrected. “Public Defender.’”

“Really?” The bus driver asked.

“I used to be one before I opened my practice.”

“You’re a lawyer?” A blonde woman with a long neck asked. She sat directly across from him.

“I made some mistakes, got disbarred.”

“You’re an attorney?” The man asked.

“No, but I’ve made a lot of mistakes, like marrying a surgeon who loves examining young women a little too often.” She paused to look the man in the eye. “I normally take planes but...”

“You don’t want to be tracked.” The man said, rubbing his neck. “You’re running away, aren’t you?”

The man smiled and reached his hand across the aisle.

A loud grumble emanated from the fourth row back.

“Shh,” the other boy said. “That’s that big guy that got on first.”

“Ain’t nobody too big for me now.”

“Tremor, there are five things about you that make me wish I was not your brother.”

“That’s nasty, Sherman. That hurts.”

“Good,” the boy named Sherman said. “We’re going to Chicago so we can be future Marines, not thugs. You’re stuck in that thug mode. I see what you’re carrying.”

Tremor looked in both directions.

“Shut up, Sherman. I only brought it to protect your black ass in case we break down in KKK town.”

“You’re 9mm ain’t gonna do jack against 10 rednecks with shot guns.”

Tremor brushed Sherman off and looked back at Martin.

“I wonder what he looks like under that mask.”

“Probably ugly enough to give us nightmares,” Sherman said. “He might have a disease”

“Yeah, like Leprosy. We might already have what he has. I wouldn’t get too close to him.”

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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Sometime later, the bus driver’s voice woke everyone with a start, including the immense snoring man.

“Please excuse the interruption, but I just got a severe weather alert for the entire region. The worst of it is 30 minutes northwest of us. If we stay the course, we’ll be going right into it.”

“How bad?” Ari asked, shutting off his overhead light.

“50 mile per hour gusts, enough to force us off the road.”

The entire bus started chattering.

“I’m diverting to a rural route.”

“Which one?” Ari asked, leaning forward.

Ari glanced at the woman named Charlene.

“That takes right through the same area that a bus ran into a ravine and exploded on impact, killing everyone aboard, seven years ago.”

“You know about that?” The driver asked.

“Hell, yeah. I might be afraid of flying but I’m more afraid of going the same route that killed 15 people.”

“Seven years ago,” the driver countered. “I’m sure we’ll be alright. They put a lot of guard rail up between then and now.”

Ari nodded and switched his light back on to continue reading.

Little Amber looked out the window and watched as the bus careened off an exit and tuned onto a pitch black, two-lane road. She pulled a sweater out of her back pack and put it on. Everyone in the bus was quiet. The murmur of engines made Amber want to sleep but she was too frightened. Something in the previous conversation troubled her. She turned and looked back at the man named Martin. He was still in the same position, looking so much like a statue in the dim light.

Amber carefully moved out of her seat and stood in front of Martin.

“Mr. Martin, can I sit next to you?”

“Thanks.” Amber cautiously walked in front of Martin so as not to step on his feet and sat down next to him. “I’m scared.”

A shaft of moonlight momentarily made Martin’s mask glow. He slowly reached his gloved hand out and patted Amber below the arm. She sunk down in her seat and fell asleep, her face pressed against Martin’s shoulder.

Tremor, Sherman and the other boy also fell asleep. The big man snored loudly.

“I need ear plugs,” Charlene said, glancing back at the large man. She leaned forward. “Ari?”

The former attorney jerked his head up.

Ari glanced at the snoring giant and shook his head.

“Thank God the three gang bangers are asleep,” Charlene remarked.

“They’re not gang bangers, Ms. Beck. I defended many gang bangers and I can tell them a mile away. One of them is a bad boy but the others are…”

“I heard that,” Tremor said, lifting his head up. “Jack both your white asses up.”

The snoring stopped and the large man’s ample head blocked most of a window. He looked at Tremor and reached his muscular arm across the aisle to touch the back of Tremor’s seat. “You woke me up, kid---big mistake. Try jacking me up, punk.”

Tremor leaned forward. “I don’t care how big you are. I have heat.”

The large man slapped a shoulder holster. “So do.”

Tremor drew back. “We’re cool.”

“Hold on,” Sherman said, pushing Tremor back into his seat and leaning over to look at the large man. “You look familiar. You’re Willy Petty. You played with the Cowboys.”

“Yeah, got kicked me off the team for being abusive.”

“What are you doing on this bus?” Sherman asked.

“I’m going to Chicago to work for a private investigation firm. Got my PI license.”

“Not bad,” Sherman said. “Sorry they kicked you out.”

The large man lay his head back against the window.

The drone of engines lulled everyone to sleep including Ari who dropped his book on his lap and slumped down in his seat. A sharp turn jarred him awake. Was the bus driver pulling over? An image of hot coffee popped in his head. Ari yawned and looked beyond the driver out the large front window. A drive-in movie rushed by on the left. The bus’ head lights lit up a junk yard and a mountain of shoes.

“What the hell?” Ari moaned, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re awake,” the driver said in a loud whisper.

“Yeah. Just saw something really weird.”

“Yeah. Looked like a hill made of shoes, boots and sneakers.”

“You’ve driven this route before?”

“4 am,” the driver answered, palming the steering wheel and taking the bus onto a gravel road that ran up an incline.

“Are we stopping here?” Ari asked, glancing back at the bus full of sleeping passengers.

A large barn loomed up ahead, covering the entire top of a hill. Yellow light spilled onto a surrounding field and an unpaved parking area.

“Yes,” the driver finally answered.