Slaughter Bus

General Summary

“Get ready to fire!” Jag hollered.
He threw the bus into fourth gear and accelerated toward the camp. The bus teetered as everyone rushed the left side windows, preparing their weapons. We were packed like sardines. Truthfully, it wasn’t necessary for all of us to be stationed. Only a handful of us had guns, but still, I admired the family’s passion. Empty mason jars, sharpened sticks, and even a torn-off seat belt. They gripped their unconventional ammunition with eyes blazing.
I was crammed into the corner, above Mamba. The thin long barrel of her rifle poked out from the bottom window. Her eyes were fixated through the scope. Using her as reference, I hastily aligned my sawed-off too. The camp could be seen clearer now. Faint shouts rang in the distance. A group was gathering at the entrance, behind a large gate. Several more appeared, stumbling out from their tents.
“On my count!” commanded Lark. She didn’t have a ranged weapon, and was instead eyeing the camp from the front of the bus. Luckily, it seems they had only just noticed us. Mamba ignored her, aiming for a guy barking directions.
“One!” she shouted. A sharp sound ricocheted off the walls of the bus. Mamba had fired. We held our breaths in anticipation.
“Two!” I watched as her bullet drilled through the man’s skull, exiting the back. It dug into a cement pillar. Impressed, I loaded my gun, pumping it forward. I rested my finger on the trigger.
“Thr-“ Thunderous cackling bombarded my eardrums before she could finish. I clenched my jaw. I watched as my target torpedoed backward. Their guts exploded outward, littering the ground. Similarly, surrounding enemies were flung into the air. I hadn’t pulled trigger.
Glancing over, I watched Grekkor. Empty shells rained down, scattering the floor around him. He was double fisting, two gigantic guns in hand. Even through the explosions, I could feel his maniacal laughter vibrating through the air. The others had also started shooting and throwing miscellaneous items, though haphazardly. Returning my attention back to the camp, I let out a few shots myself. Soon enough, no movement could be seen in the distance.
“The camp is dead.” Mamba declared, to no one in particular.
Not wanting to waste ammo, I lowered my gun, sighing. If we could surprise attack everyone in the Char like this, that would be ideal. The camp continued to get closer and closer. With no intention of slowing down, the bus soared forward at full speed.
We slammed into the gate first. Because we were so close together on one side of the bus, no one was flung forward despite not wearing any seatbelts. The impact of the gate managed to slow us down a little, but not nearly enough. Jag was paralyzed, probably realizing nothing could be done at this point. The bus barreled through - straight into one of the pillars. This time, the windshield shattered. Shards of glass shot out. Huge chunks of cement toppled onto the bus, completely incased. Miraculously, the roof of the bus managed to support the weight, and had yet to cave in.
The bus rattled for a moment, then finally stopped after a final rumble. The engine had shut off, and all that could be heard now was our ragged breathing. We continued like this for a few extra moments while we caught our breath.
"K-Key." Jag coughed out from the front. Debris from the concrete had swept in through the broken windshield and open windows. Clouds of dust had formed, completely covering us. I slid my gun into my holster and ran toward Jag. It seemed to be mostly shock from the impact, and a number of shallow cuts. However, glass had pierced his shoulder, leaving a gnarly wound. A few shards were lodged deep into his flesh. I had no doubts that it had hit bone.
Reflexively, I placed both hands on his arm and closed my eyes, concentrating. I felt the typical pulsating surge from my brain to my palms. A healing energy had shot through where my fingertips touched, penetrating Jag’s body and scattering throughout. I opened my eyes and watched as the fibers in Jag’s muscles stitched themselves together, perhaps even stronger and more flexible than before. Like a zipper, the wound began healing from the inside out, effectively dislodging the foreign glass out of place.
I breathed out a sigh of relief. The gnash, still fairly deep, was no where near as bad as before. Naturally, it would have taken over two months to heal as far as it did. The important part was that his bone was no longer exposed. Wiping my forehead, I reached for the bandage attached to my belt.
But then, a shrill ring echoed in my brain. I lurched forward, dropping the bandage. Jag jerked up, grasping his head with his other hand. I had spoke too soon. A white light shot through the bus, heading straight in our direction.
The maelstrom. I had left our brains exposed.
Damnit.
I ducked for cover, bracing for impact.
But nothing came. An unfamiliar body was covering mine. Someone had protected me. I looked up to see Chaucer, a face I recognized, but had only met today. His eyes were shut tight, as he continued to clutch onto me. Next to me, Ruby was similarly hovering over Jag.
They had successfully shielded us from the danger, but it wasn’t over. The dust had settled. Through the windows, we could see a small group cautiously approaching, fully armed.
Grekkor immediately jumped off the bus, sparking the others to follow suit. Seeing the stream of people chase toward them, the group finally opened fire, but it was too late. Grekkor had already reloaded his weapons, and had started his assault.
Jag came to his senses. Ignoring Ruby, he raced toward the back of the bus to his motorbike. Ruby chased after, and soon Chaucer joined the fray.
That left Lark and I alone. She had also taken damage, presumably from the maelstrom. As I inspected her, she pointed behind me, grabbing my arm.
“Behind you!”
In one swift motion, I spun around removing my shot gun from its holster. Loading it simultaneously, I aimed it at the trespasser.

Character(s) interacted with

Jag Lark Grekkor The Family

Report Date

29 Mar 2019

Primary Location

Char, The