Part 2 (1/2)
”But none of the windows are open, are they?” Dave asked.
”No, they're closed,” Deem said.
”That doesn't make any sense,” Dave said.
Deem left it at that. Dave hadn't seen the head inside the bus, and she'd learned from her father not to relate stories that others might find crazy; it tended to make them think you were crazy.
”You might want to consider cancelling this particular tour going forward,” Deem said, ”until we figure out what this thing is. I think it's dangerous.”
”Not my decision,” Dave said. ”That'd be for the owners to decide.”
”Then you might want to ask for another route,” Deem said.
”What do I tell them?” Dave asked. ”Something jumped on the bus and stuck its head inside?”
Deem knew Dave wouldn't be relating that story to his boss. Winn rejoined them.
”She's fine, just shaken up,” Winn said. ”She's got a set of lungs on her, that's for sure.”
”Deem says it's dangerous,” Dave said, his eyes looking at Winn through his rear view mirror. ”Do you think it is?”
”Might be,” Winn said. ”Hard to say. Don't know what it is, exactly.”
”Can I talk to you for a second?” Deem asked Winn, pulling his arm as she walked back into the bus. Winn followed her to a seat that was several rows from the front, with no one around.
”It's dangerous,” Deem said, ”but not for any reason you can tell Dave. I felt it lock onto me. I nearly pa.s.sed out, like Virginia.”
”Lock onto you?” Winn asked. ”Like how?”
”Our eyes were locked,” Deem said, ”but then everything on the edges began to black out until all I could see was his eyes. I got dizzy, thought I might fall over. It was some kind of attack. Did you feel it?”
”No,” Winn said. ”No tunnel vision for me. I didn't feel anything like that.”
”Did you feel it was looking at you?” Deem said. ”Like it was targeting you, specifically?”
”No,” Winn replied. ”It glanced at me, but I felt nothing.”
”Well, it could be dangerous,” Deem said. ”I told your friend he should cancel the tours until we know what it is.”
”He's just a driver, Deem,” Winn said. ”If he tells them what we saw, they'll just think he's whack, or drunk. Might lose his job over it.”
”If that thing out there has appeared before, it obviously knows this bus and the schedule. It'll happen again.” She was scratching her left hand with her right.
”But what came of it, other than a scare?” Winn said. ”I don't know what harm it caused. It was kind of like seeing a UFO. Not a lot you can do about it.”
”It was more than that,” Deem said. ”I'm sure of it. We'll need to ride this bus again tomorrow. Try the River next time...what the f.u.c.k is this?”
Deem raised her left hand where she'd been scratching. There was a round, quarter-inch b.u.mp in the skin of her left little finger, between the first and second knuckles.
”Looks like a bite,” Winn said.
”It's not,” Deem said, pressing on the b.u.mp with her right index finger. ”There's something really hard inside, and it's sharp. It hurts when I press it.”
Winn took over and tried pressing on the b.u.mp. It looked red and sore like a spider bite, but he could tell as soon as he touched it that it wasn't a bite. It was soft and squishy, like a pocket of liquid, but inside was something small and hard.
”Ouch!” Deem said. ”Don't push on it!”
”How long have you had this?” Winn asked.
”No idea,” Deem said. ”I don't remember seeing it before.”
Winn reached into his pants pocket and removed a pocketknife. He popped the blade open.
”Whoa, hold on!” Deem said. ”What are you going to do?”
”Cut it open,” Winn said. ”I'll just slit the top open here.”
Deem winced at the idea, but part of her knew the b.u.mp was abnormal, and she wanted whatever was inside it to be out of her. ”It's gonna bleed all over the place.”
Winn got up and walked back to Margie and Virginia. They talked for a moment, then Winn returned with a small white handkerchief.
”We'll use this,” Winn said, ”to wrap it up.”
”Alright,” Deem said.
Winn held Deem's little finger and slowly inserted the blade into the b.u.mp. Once he had the tip of it past the skin, he slid the blade sideways, making an eighth-inch cut. As he removed the knife, thin wisps of grey smoke emerged from the incision, and the skin collapsed as the gas escaped. Winn gently pulled the skin apart, and saw a small piece of something white.
”Hope that didn't hurt,” Winn said.
”Didn't feel a thing,” Deem said. ”No blood, either. What is that?”
Winn gently inserted the blade of his knife back into the slit and pried under the object, lifting it out of the skin. He held it up for Deem to see. It was small, white, and jagged.
”What is that?” Winn asked, studying it. He held it for Deem to see. ”Is it bone?”
”What the f.u.c.k?” Deem asked, looking up at him.
Chapter Two.
Deem stared up at the ceiling, suddenly awake. The first thing she felt was the bandage wrapped around her little finger. She felt it with her other hand, running her fingers over it in the darkness of her room.
Seems normal, she thought. Isn't swollen again. Doesn't hurt. Should probably leave it alone. What time is it?
She glanced over at her alarm clock on the nightstand two-thirty. She felt wide awake.