Lone Star Renegades (2 page)

But Bubba’s attention was drawn back out the window and Collin spotted the yellow stain where he’d wet himself. The big defensive tackle held his two meaty hands tightly clenched in his lap.

The now frantic bus driver was still seated behind the wheel. Every so often he put his hands at ten and two and attempted to steer the bus away from their inevitable destination. It almost would have been funny, if their lives hadn’t been in such peril. Looking on the brighter side of their ongoing ordeal, Collin noticed there was another interesting aspect to their continuing ascent. While the train, cars, and pickup truck had changed their orientation, now rotating vertically as they rose, the school bus had stayed relatively horizontal, as if traveling on some invisible, unseen highway into the ever-nearing glowing green aperture above.

Collin realized he didn’t want to be alone when they entered that big ship. If he was going to die, which Bubba was all too sure of, he should go out with someone he cared about. He scanned the front of the bus for her long hair. She wasn’t where he’d last seen her. Collin stood up, fear gripping him tightly around the throat. He spun to his left and then looked behind him.
How’d she get behind me?
… Collin saw her, her head buried into the chest of Darren Mallon … varsity starting quarterback, almost as much in demand as Bubba, and rock-star handsome. Of course she’d find him. He’d been her boyfriend as long as Collin had known her.

The bus shifted backward and Collin momentarily lost his balance. Surprisingly, there was a voice yelling over the intercom: “Everyone back in your seats. Sit down!”

Apparently the bus driver still had the presence of mind to act and say something constructive. No one paid any attention, but Collin appreciated his effort to control the bus just the same.

“Hell if I’m going to stay here,” Collin said, moving forward in the aisle. He had to squirm past several colossal-sized teenagers before reaching the bus driver’s side.

“I told you to sit the hell down, kid!” the driver spewed, hands still gripped tightly on the wheel.

Shrugging, Collin said, “I don’t want to miss this,” gesturing to the rapidly approaching opening, easily the size of several city blocks. He could now partially see inside the ship. Everything in there was bathed in emerald green, and he could discern movement inside. The bus driver and Collin leaned more forward to get a better perspective of what they were seeing through the windshield.

Both suddenly leaned back and gasped. “Robotic arms … they’re sorting what’s coming into the ship,” Collin said flatly. What was even more apparent to him was that their relatively smooth travel into the ship so far was about to end. There was nothing gentle about the way the large, articulating arms were handling what was coming in. He watched as the red pickup truck rose into the aperture and was abruptly plucked out of the air by a three-fingered claw. Without hesitation it tossed the truck hundreds of feet, like a discarded toy, onto a pile of like-sized objects.

Collin and the driver looked at each other. The driver yelled into the microphone: “Sit down and hold on … do it, now!”

This time everyone did as told. Collin moved into the seat behind the driver. He looked for something to grab on to, deciding the back of the driver’s seat was his only real option. The G-forces were increasing and Collin was having an extremely hard time staying in his seat. Arms and legs, and the flesh on his face, were being pulled forward. Abruptly, something brushed by Collin’s right shoulder. Before his brain could make sense of it—a short white skirt—a white and gold sweater with the school emblem—a cheerleader careened through the windshield backwards. Her face contorted in a perpetual, soundless scream. Instinctively, Collin reached for her—almost releasing his precarious hold on the driver’s seat back in the process.

The bus changed its angle again, becoming nearly straight up and down as it vertically ascended into the ship’s opening. With a quick glance behind him, Collin saw elevated feet—bodies held high, as if caught in a hurricane-force wind tunnel. Another body, a football player, flew past him and out through the now non-existent windshield.

Without warning the bus driver too was gone. Collin didn’t see him get yanked from the bus—one second he was there, the next he was gone. The bus entered the opening, into the ship itself. There were hundreds of large articulating arms at work around the periphery of the open expanse. Everything entering was forced to the side, into the constantly moving arms. Collin felt the G-forces on the bus change direction—they were being pulled sideways. Two arms rose in unison to catch the entering bus. The forward-most arm, with its outstretched claws, penetrated the bus. One of its claw fingers tore into the two seats behind Collin, one tore through the ceiling directly overhead, and another took hold of the engine section. Collin listened to the screams around him. Some were from fear—others from agonizing pain. The bus shuddered and was jerked about with tremendous force and then, as it left the clutches of the articulating arm, sailed through the air for several agonizingly long seconds. Upside down, and moving with way too much speed, the bus impacted something significantly larger than itself.

The bus landed hard onto its right side and then rolled. Collin lost his grip on the driver’s seat back and landed atop the big blue numbers on the jersey of Alan Baker—a talented running back whose skull, somewhere over the last few moments, had been crushed.

As Collin continued to lie still he took stock of his own self. His right arm hurt but he didn’t think it was broken. He slowly moved his left arm and then his legs. Considering what had just transpired, he’d come through it relatively well. He wondered if he was the only survivor. He listened and heard nothing but the continual crashing of metal objects being tossed about by the articulating arms. Collin wondered if Lydia had survived … perhaps it would be best if she hadn’t. Perhaps it would have been best if he hadn’t either.

Pushing himself up off the dead body, he averted his eyes from poor Alan Baker’s mangled head. Collin was surprised he was able to sit upright. Apparently the bus was now sited right side up on its tires.

Without warning, the loud banging and crashing came to an abrupt end. An eerie quiet pressed in around Collin. The dead silence was almost worse than the interminable racket. In the distance, Collin saw the huge opening rapidly disappearing. Like a constricting camera lens aperture, it grew smaller and smaller until he saw it seal tight … completely closed. They were—he was—trapped inside the ship.

Collin wasn’t sure he wanted to see what lay behind him. Slowly he turned in his seat and took in the carnage.

Chapter 3

Movement. Some of the kids were coming around. Others stayed where they lay. Even in the bus
’
s battered condition, with most of the interior lights shattered, there was still enough illumination to see who was who. Collin did a quick mental calculation. There were twenty-four seats on the bus, twelve per side. Each seat held two people. Forty-eight kids
…
half of them were either unconscious or
—

Dana Stoker screamed as she realized her best friend, Lisa Cole
—
seated next to her
—
was dead. Linebacker Bill Myers started to cry when he tried to stand up but couldn
’
t
…
apparently he was paralyzed from the waist down. Collin continued to watch them all as the scene behind him quickly unraveled.

As the screams and crying hit a new crescendo, of course it was Darren Mallon, Lydia
’
s boyfriend, who took control of the situation. He was standing near Lydia, who was hunched over, crying into her open palms.

“
Everyone just shut up! We lived through this shit, so just shut up!
”

The noise-level decreased by half.
“
We
’
ve been abducted. But we
’
re going to be rescued. We just need to sit tight and wait.
”

Collin had no particular problem with Darren
—
other than he was Lydia
’
s boyfriend
…
that, and the fact he seemed to live a charmed life. Athletically speaking, he was a God
…
he had Brad Pitt good looks
…
and he was an eventual heir to the Mallon family fortune. A trifecta. And now, just like on the playing field, he
’
d be the guy these kids would turn to as their leader
—
the one they
’
d follow.

“
You heard him, sit the fuck down!
”
came Bubba
’
s thunderous voice. Darren and Bubba reached across a row of seats and bumped fists.

Those standing sat back down. Darren continued,
“
We
’
ll need to move everyone that
…
didn
’
t make it
…
off the bus. Anyone here know first-aid?
”

Two people raised their hands
—
a cheerleader, Collin didn
’
t know her name, and Paul DiMaggio.

“
Cool,
”
Darren said, nodding his head.
“
Go help everyone who
’
s injured. Bubba, Humphrey
…
um, we need to get the
…
um, ones that didn
’
t make it, and move them off the bus.
”

The noise level rose again as fuller realization of their situation took hold.

Collin turned his attention to what was outside the bus. They were situated high up, atop an enormous mound of twisted and gnarled metal
—
numerous eighteen-wheelers; what looked like girders, the kind that held buildings together; and the same locomotive engine, along with six or so passenger cars he
’
d earlier watched get sucked up into this spaceship. He did a double take when he saw the tail section of what must have been a commercial jetliner. Off in the distance, there were countless small mountains of similar objects. Mostly everything was made of some kind of metal. The whole space was illuminated in a bright green light from high above. Collin turned to look out the opposite window
—
the spacecraft they were in was vast, easily reaching a mile in circumference.

Darren was wrong. They hadn
’
t been abducted. Whatever they were, the aliens who
’
d sucked them into this spaceship were after the raw materials
…
not humans. The humans were nothing more than collateral baggage. Again, Collin took in the huge quantities of metal objects piled within the ginormous outer compartment. One thing was evident
—
it was filled to capacity.
What happens when you
’
ve got a full load?

“
Where the hell you going, Sticks?
”
Bubba roared.
“
What
…
you didn
’
t hear the man?
”

Collin moved to the front console and pulled up on the large protruding handle that operated the opening and closing of the tall double-doors. The doors opened. When Collin turned back toward Bubba, he saw everyone was looking at him.

“
We weren
’
t abducted.
”

“
What the hell do you know, Sticks?
”
Bubba snickered.

“
Let the geek go,
”
Humphrey said.

“
Where you going, Frost?
”
Darren asked, looking surprisingly interested.

“
Look
…
Whoever took us? Aliens
…
whatever
…
they aren
’
t remotely interested in us
…
what they
’
re interested in is the raw materials. Just take a look outside. Also, nobody is going to rescue us. Not with what
’
s going on with trains and planes and cars and trucks being sucked up. Things are crazy down there.
”
Collin momentarily thought of his mother and wondered if she was okay. His heart tugged in his chest as he thought of her; she
’
d be devastated at his disappearance.

“
I
’
m getting out of here. Sitting tight, as you put it, will only get you dead.
”

“
Why
’
s that?
”
Darren asked.

“
I
’
m guessing we
’
re breathing some air, oxygen, because that opening sucked up atmosphere from Earth. Remember, they didn
’
t come for us
…
they came for the metal shit piled outside the bus. What happens when they vent the air out of here or that opening opens on another planet or to outer space?
”

“
I told you, Sticks, you need to shut your
—”

“
Hold on, Bubba. Where are you gonna go that the same thing isn
’
t going to happen to you?
”
Darren asked.

Collin saw Lydia looking at him, leaning forward in her seat
—
taking in his every word.

He shrugged.
“
I don
’
t want to just sit here and do nothing. I
’
d rather die trying to survive than die waiting around.
”

“
There
’
s no magic place out there, Sticks. You
’
re a fool,
”
Humphrey sneered.

“
See that tail section over there? It
’
s from a jetliner.
”

“
So what
…
a bus, a jetliner, there
’
s not much difference when it comes down to it.
”