Mexican Radio II

The midnight's moon appeared aged and pale, like the face of a bitter old man. It was full and grey; in the distant from the bus stop that laid in the middle of an undeveloped dirt road with nothing but a cheap scrap sign that read in dusty red letter "PARADA DE AUTOBUS", nocturnal creatures howled over the desert's dunes. A pack of wolves in the far break of the Earth's horizon stood, gaping their manes to sky beckoning their mating calls. I stood in fascination, it was just like what I had saw in the movies, except this time the picture was real. My cellphone, which had no signal, was not so useless after all, it captured nature's image perfectly when I took its photograph. They appeared to be mere shadows with some detail of their fur showing through, but that was enough to satisfy me.

I looked closely at the right corner of my phones screen, it was thirty three minutes after midnight, the bus was suppose to come around thirteen minutes ago. I thought maybe it was just running late, it was pretty dark, and from research, Anapra which was just right on the outskirts of Cuidad Juarez was not the safest place for both buses and lonely travelers. But, concealed right below my waist, under my jacket I had a Saturday Night Special that I bought in Maryland right before they were outlawed. For the most part I stayed alert, at the time I thought there would be no danger as long as I reacted first and stayed on my toes.

When I glanced at my phone again, the sound of the rocks, that laid everywhere in the road, colliding and dispersing caught my ears, and my attention when it became louder. My eyes peered into the opposite direction of the sound, and in the midst of the sand clouds that were fuming, a set of fog lights beseeched and a medium-sized transit came slowly rolling. From about ten feet away, it began to brake, and as soon as it had come before me two inches before the sign, it came to a quiet, yet screeching halt. Cautiously, the doors opened, behind the dust stained glass panes, a short and stocky brown man with a small grey goatee coming down his chin grinned at me.

"Tienes dinero?" he said with a thick accent.

"Si, que autobus cuestan?" I replied.

"Diez pesos, tu tienes?"

"Si," I said as I carefully reached for my pocket, cautiously only taking out the exact amount I needed. For safety measures, I did not want anyone to see how much money I was carrying on me, and that included my credit and bank cards as well. For this reason, I did not take a purse with me.

"Gracias," he replied when I handed him fare cash.

The bus had two steps, they were dirty and some parts of the metal were a little bit rusted. The aisle was narrow, and the bus appeared to be one out of an old time film. The chairs were a light shade of green, almost kind of a stained sage color. There were three poles, one at the beginning, one at the end, and one in the middle. Most of the chairs though were vacant, only about ten people occupied the bus. For some reason, they appeared frightened and petrified, no one said a word, there was complete silence. An eerie feeling had started to overcome me when I sat down, the air was still and a little bit rotten with the scent of second-hand smoke taking up all the good air. There were two men behind me, their eyes were hazy and bloodshot, and yet they seemed extremely alert, ready for anything in spite of their exhaustion. I wanted to say hello and be friendly, maybe start a conversation, but my gut indistincts told me that it was best to be quiet.

"Esta bien por hablamos?" the man behind me asked the driver.

"Un momento," he replied and reached for the radio dial, setting it to sixteen hundred megaHertz.

A slow callous static followed, but within a few seconds a signal slowly came, it was not real clear, but it was coherent.

Travelers are told to exercise caution tonight. It seems that when the sun comes down the bloodhounds start to feast. Near Anapra off of Route 22, a woman was found slained and killed. It appears that she was shot in the back, the authorities found no money or drugs on her, but there was a concealed weapon underneath her blouse. It could have been another stick-up, but ladies and gentlemen we will never know. Be safe, be cautious; it is suggested that you stay indoors, but if you must go outside or commute, do not wander alone.

Mortified by what I had just heard, I could not bite my tongue.

"I was just on Route 22!" I yelled.

An older man, who appeared to be in his late thirties stood up, and slowly approached me. His brown eyes glared into mine coldly as he slowly reached his hand out, as if he wanted me to hand something to him.

"Que?" I said.

Without a word, he slowly pointed to my waist, exactly where I had kept my gun.

"Que?"
"Pistola," he scowled.

I knew this guy wasn't going to shoot me on the bus, but I didn't want to cause any problems and I was nervous about the fact that he knew I had a gun even though it was barelly visible., so slowly I reached for my gun, pulled it out and handed to him.

"Si, pistola?"

"Si, tu tienes pistola," he said as he reached out and grabbed it.

Mesmerized, I stood still feeling vulnerable, observing what he may do next.

"Tu necessitas pistola," he said, and placed it on my lap.

"Tienes la pistola en la manos," he continued.

"Que"

"Tu necesitas usar la pistola por vosotros."

After being followed by a long and hissing screech, the transmission came back, with a different man speaking in a much deeper tone.

Exercise caution as you wander down these roads.

The screech continued, as the bus approaching another stop slowly, came to a clear brake. The driver opened the doors, and three men came aboard. They were dressed like farmers, wearing dirt-stained plaid tops and bell-bottoms. I assumed they were migrant workers, from my research they were the heart of Anapra. When the paid their toll, they took their seats right in front of were I was sitting, and the bus slowly began to roll further.

Without any thought, they began to converse lively, but the two men behind me were not hestistant to warn them.

"No Hablar! Silencio"

Confused they looked back in silence.

"No Hablar en el autobus. Muy peligrosos!" the bus driver alerted.

"Silencio!" he snapped, as he began to play with the radio dial again.

Loud, sharp squeaking frequencies began to roll across the channel, until the driver found a clear signal.

Exercise caution as you wonder down these roads. Three men, farmers, have just been found slained. They lay in a pool of blood as we speak. Authorities, when they found the bodies noticed a strange mark on their necks, teeth marks. It has been predicted that their death was not by human hands, but by wolves or scorpions even. It is dangerous out there on those country roads, it is best that you carry a weapon with you to defend yourself against these attacsk. The dangers are high here, very high.

I gave the three men a long stare in confusions. Three of them, farmers, but they were alive. The radio proclaimed me dead as well. In Texas, I read a newspaper about the mysterious dissappearance of a man two years ago, they never found his body but they did find a wallet that did belong. The pieces lined up well, but the whole puzzle hasn't been found. Fright and curiousity overcame my mind, I wanted to figure out this mystery so bad, but I did not have the means 'nor the time. All I could do was sit back, and pray that I live throughout this ride. May God have mercy on me I thought.

The frequency warped again, and the signal came back.

Thank you for listening ladies and gentlemen. We have one more report left. Stay tuned, and stay safe.

"Nosotros hablamos?" the guy behind me asked the bus driver.

"Si," the bus driver replied.

"What is going on?" one of the men in front asked me.

"I wish I knew," I replied.

"I have never been on this bus before," he said.

"Neither have I."

"El es autobus en tiempo," the man behind me said.

"Que?" I replied.

"El autobus en es tiempo. Nosotros vamos en tiempo. Tu comprende o no?"

"En America, usted hablan de el autobus en tiempo."

"Silencio!" the bus driver said, as the radio began to come back.

Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes tonights broadcast, this is in the end of the line. Go to your homes or your work safely, and we will be back on again tomorrow morning.

"El radio es muy extrano," I whispered.

Shhh he hissed.

In front of me, the men began exchaning in conversation loudly again.

"SILENCIO!" the man behind me yelled.

"Tu cono! Nosotros fucked!"

"S**t" he whispered to himself. The bus came to a quick halt, and a eerie silence arose in the dark haze of the bus's smoky atmosphere.

"Thanks a*****e," the guy who was two seats behind me said to the guy in front of him.

"Its not my fault, those douchebags up front kept on talking up a storm."
"What is going I asked?"
"We're fucked, that's all I can say," the first guy said.

"Huh? What is..." and before I could finish my sentence, a loud and ghastly howl began to drown out my voice.

"Its them," the guy behind me whispered.

"Quien?" one of the men in front jumped startled.

"Its a wolf," I whispered.

"A werewolf," the guy behind me said.

"I thought this was all just an urban legend," I interjected. "The bus that goes at the speed of light, forward in time."

"They are coming, be quiet!" he hissed.

"What, are you just going to wait here and die?" I said.

"When you go forward in time. You are tampering with the fabrics of the universe, but that is the only way we can survive out here," he said.

"And the consequence of that is you move onto another plane, and that is where we are, and we're not welcomed here."

"Exactly."

"So that means we need to take ourselves back where our plane is."

"But we can't."

"Yes we can."

"Let the werewolves come," I said.

"No!" he whispered intensely.

"I'm a physics student, I think I know what I'm doing."

"No you don't, your a dumb little american girl."
"Well either way the wolves will come."

The howls began to grow increasingly louder, and the bus came to a halt, but outside the desert dunes appeared warped, as if were crossing through a wormhole.

Rawwwrrr! An intense growl greeted me, as an unearthly beast with the face of a human, and the mane and body of a beast began to bite through the window. Within a matter of seconds, hundred and hundreds of them began to appear around the bus.

I grabbed my cellphone out my pocket, and began to dial my mother's number.

"You see, we are light, just fragments of matter floating in this eternal universe. I send a signal back home, before we leave this wormhole, we'll slow down and come back into time."

I pressed the phone reciever against my ear, and heard the phone ringing. And within a sixteeth of a second, the streaming lines of light began to reverse. Instead of going from left to right, they began to warp in the oppositie direction. The bloodhounds began to dissapear in the streaks of color that surrounded the bus, and the cracks in the window began to heal like it was a living cell.

Before I knew it, I found myself again at that same bus stop in Anapra, taking that same picture with my phone. Another bus came down rolling, and when its doors open, that same driver appeared.

He asked me if I had fare money, and I told him that I was waiting for someone and that I would take the next line. The doors closed, he rolled on and dissappeared.