Call Me Martin

Daylight faded into darkness. The man named Ari switched on an overhead light and began to read a book. The woman named Charlene took a long good look at him before curling up on her seat and closing her eyes. Tremor, Sherman and their friend pulled out their phones and began playing games. Little Amber remained close to Martin.

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.

“76.”

The bus became silent.

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?”

“Sure.”

“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.

“Yeah.”

“Did you bring any ear plugs?”

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.”

The large man chuckled.

“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.

“Their loss.”

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.”

“The junkyard?”

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

The driver chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen that.”

Ari leaned forward.

“You’ve driven this route before?”

“Once,” the driver answered.

Ari glanced out the window.

“What time is it?”

“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.

The bus rumbled to a stop several feet in front of the open barn door. Just then, a trio of flashing blue lights converged on the bus.

“What the fuck?” Tremor rasped, lifting his head to gaze out the window.

“Oh, no,” Sherman said under his breath.

“What’s going on?” Wilson Petty asked, his massive form blocking the isle.

Little Amber lifted her head off Martin’s lap and sat up straight, her wide eyes reflecting the lights of three police cars. She had seen her share, thought Martin as he slowly looked in both directions.

“Time to get out,” the bus driver announced.

Sherman drew close to Tremor just as the entire bus was bathed in a white search light.

“Now, what are you going to do?”

Tremor looked down at his feet. “I don’t know, man. I can’t hide it anywhere. I got it in a place that no straight guy wants to touch.”

“Oh, that’s awesome,” Sherman scowled.

The bus doors swung open and the silhouette of a sheriff’s deputy pointed a mag light inside.

“Everybody out, now.”

“See what I told you?” Tremor said. “KKK town.”

Ari exchanged glances with Charlene and stood up to walk out of the bus. He paused to look the deputy in the eye.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“No, but there will be if you don’t hurry off this bus.”

The rest of the passengers got off without protest. The gravel below their feet was cold and damp as they were led into the barn. Several overhead lights made the inside as bright as day. One of the Deputies approached Martin.

“What’s with the mask?”

“He’s deformed,” little Amber answered, her eyebrows rigid. “He doesn’t want us to look at him.”

“Well,” the Deputy chuckled, “let me decide.”

“Never mind,” a large bellied sheriff walked in, his eyes obscured by a wide-brimmed hat.

“Why are we here?” Ari asked, looking at the empty barn. There was nothing but a pile of aluminum fence posts tucked in corner.

The bus driver and a deputy walked into the barn together. Both were smiling.

The sheriff turned to the bus driver.

“Good work, Karl.”

“What?” Ari asked.

“I don’t understand,” Charlene said, her voice hoarse. “We didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all just going…”

“Going nowhere,” The Sheriff interjected. He took off his hat to reveal a red crew cut and midnight-blue eyes.

“Fuck that,” Wilson, the former football player said, reaching for his shoulder holster.

“Don’t even think about it,” a deputy shouted, aiming a shotgun directly at Wilson. “Keep your hands above your head.” The Deputy motioned to another officer. “Higgs, get his gun.”

Another Deputy carefully reached into Wilson’s shoulder holster and pulled out a .45. “Way to go, Miles.”

“Yours to keep,” the Sheriff said, eying Wilson up and down. “Will you look at the size of this buck. Our friends are going to love him.”

“Friends?” Ari asked, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

The Sheriff smiled.

“You’ll all find out soon enough.”

“What do you want from us?” Wilson asked, his hands still above his head.

“WE don’t want anything from you.” The Sheriff answered. “But our friends will.”

Ari squinted and looked around the barn again. There were five well-armed deputies and one sheriff. “Sir,” Ari said, carefully reaching into his shirt pocket to pull out a business card. “I’m an attorney and I’m asking you, why are you doing this and what are our charges?”

The barn erupted into laughter. The Sheriff shook his head. “No charges, Mr. Lawyer. And none of you are going to jail, so you can all relax.”

“Okay,” Ari said. “So, we can get back on the bus?”

The Sheriff pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Why not?” Ari Asked.

The Sheriff exchanged glances with his men.

“This is your last stop.”

“I don’t get it,” Ari said, looking at the other passengers.

The Sheriff stepped forward to look Ari in the eye.

“In a few minutes, you will not be in this barn. There’s a narrow road out front. Take it. It leads to Old Town, about a mile further, where we used to live. There’s food, water and shelter there. One thing you should know—our friends are hunters. They live to hunt and you are their pray.”

“WHAT?” Tremor asked.

The Sheriff drew a large sawed off shot gun.

“Not an inch closer, boy.” He looked at the other passengers. “I’m not going to lie to you. None of you are going home. Now, if any of you are still here in five minutes, we’re going to shoot you down. I told you what you need to do. So, get going.”

Little Amber pressed against Martin and grabbed his gloved hand. She looked up at him, her dark eyes penetrating. “Please, Mr. Martin. Keep me safe.”

Martin squeezed Amber’s hand and followed the rest of the passenger’s out the barn door into the gloom of night. The air was thick and moist. They were near a lake, Martin thought, looking at the narrow road ahead. There was nothing but starlight. They were miles from anything.