Prologue (After The Fall)

Our story begins...

In the cool darkness of the night, the bus hurtled through the streets, past houses and the few shops still open; and on past empty stops. Perched on his chair, the driver hummed along with the radio, periodically checking back to check on his lone passenger. At the start of this run, his last for the evening, the bus had been full; now it was just he and her. Usually his last passenger or two would move; if they had been sitting at the back due to the crush of people earlier, would move forward, closer to the front, as the bus emptied, but not her. She sat in the shadows at the back, staring quietly out the window, nondescript and edging out of your notice. He tried to recall what she had looked like as she boarded his bus and failed, uncertain even whether he had sold her a ticket or had watched her clock on with her Smart Card.

 

“Nice night, miss,” he began, an attempt at small talk to encourage her to move closer in the bus. She ignored him, drawing into both herself, and the shadows, more deeply. He sighed and let her be: no sense in getting a violation order by pushing the issue; drivers weren’t supposed to converse with passengers while the bus was moving, anyway.

 

The clouds that had been threatening all night began to open, spattering his windscreen with tiny drops, and he sped up. He was pushing the speed limit, but the traffic flowed smoothly, and he was eager to finish his run, and head home. There, a pot of coffee would be waiting, tempting and warm, just like the girlfriend who would have heated it for him. Distracted by his thoughts of her, he didn’t see the woman holding out her arm at the bus stop. His passenger at the back had, though, and she called to him, “Driver, stop! There’s someone there,” but by then he’d already gone by. “She’ll have to find another way home,” he grumbled, “I’ve already passed the stop. I’m not going back now, she should have hailed me down.”

 

His passenger didn’t respond, and he drove on, his grumbles residing back into thoughts of his evening plans. His distraction was so complete, he began to forget about the solitary passenger in the back of his bus, and she, for her part, faded quietly into the shadows.

 

As he pulled out of the main roads and into the quiet, dark streets, he radioed back to base to let them know he was running an empty bus and thus would head back to the depot early. Looking at the controls, he decided to go against protocol and turn off his communications radio and video as well, they weren’t needed, anyway, and it was one less thing he would have to do when he got back, that way; one less obstacle to stand in his way before he could enjoy that coffee; one less hurdle before he could enjoy that woman who was waiting for him, in his home.

 

 

She waited quietly, watching and listening in silence, as he turned off his connections to the outside world, then softly slid off her chair.  Unlike some of the Brisbane City Council buses, Logan drivers tended to leave the passenger lights off, and she padded up in the darkness, keeping to the shadows where she wouldn’t be noticed. At the same time, she made sure the bus driver’s attention was held by something much more interesting than a dark shape moving in the bus behind him; came as close as she dared before using her rather unusual talents to suggest to his mind, without his knowledge, the idea that he had heard the ding of a large stone flicking up beneath the bus, the idea that he needed to stop the bus and have a look at the undercarriage to ensure there wasn’t any damage he would have to report. She didn’t know much about the mechanics of a bus, but she did know enough to imprint the suggestion of a problem under there.

 

Muttering to himself about all the problems a stone could cause, in addition to the time he was losing right now and his frustration, he pulled the bus to a gentle halt on the side of a deserted road, and climbed carefully out of his chair.

 

He leaned over as though to grab his keys before looking up into an apparently empty bus and shrugged his shoulders, leaving them in the ignition. As she watched from the shadows, he circled the bus, inspecting the outside of his vehicle. Once satisified that nothing on the bus’ body work was amiss, he looked both ways along the deserted street before laying down and sliding his head and torso under to check the undercarriage for damage. As soon as his upper body was out of sight, she moved like lightning, slipping into the driver’s seat and turning the key. She heard his muffled shout, but before he could extract himself, she had placed the bus in motion.

 

A horrible wet crunch followed a slight bumping motion, and she twisted the key to kill the engine. Leaving the hand brake off as well, she slipped out the bus’ door and melted into the darkness of the street. From there, she nudged gently at his mind with her own, gently but insistently inserting a painful memory to haunt his final moments. She stuck around long enough for the soft, pain filled moans, to stop, before turning and walking away.

Author's Note

Please bear in mind this is a very rough first draft as I'm throwing together 50,000 words in a month. Feel free to add reviews and comments/fix grammar and spelling/find plot holes and problems (these things are heavily encouraged!), but please do be gentle on this, as well as bearing in mind that part of the NaNo experience means unnecessary padding and/or weird moments/dares.

Reviews

[Larry Dyson]

hmm I'm usually up for a good murder mystery....next please?