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With each passing month, Laurie’s bright and ambitious college life seemed more like a vague dream than an actual memory - so the phone-call from her friend felt like a life line, thrown from the past. Vicki’s parents were both professionals, who owned a holiday apartment on Oceanside, which she apparently practically lived in now.
After an hour of reminiscing about campus life, Vicki had promised Laurie she would drive up to meet her off the bus in Escondido, and they could catch further up on the road back to the beach.
Following the call, Laurie had sat cross-legged on her bed, with her laptop in front of her, and a large glass of cheap wine on the bedside table. She had performed a search on coach prices for her intended trip.
The route from Barstow, the nearest town to Burke’s End, to Escondido was almost four-hundred miles, and a journey of over four hours. Most of the large companies charged similar prices for similar services. Laurie tried some smaller sites, too, but eventually, she settled upon taking a Greyhound, which at forty dollars for four and half hours of transport, seemed more than reasonable
However, as Laurie typed in the details of her location and ticket type, a new pop-up box appeared on the screen in front of her. It was a bright yellow window, featuring a cartoon image of a bus gri
This page featured a list of bullet pointed benefits - unbeatable prices, fully air-conditioned buses, refundable tickets, and local pick up point. It was this final detail which appealed to her the most. It meant there was no need to get herself two miles east to the centre of Barstow. At the bottom of the page, in flashing red text, it stated the price of a ticket from Burke’s End to Escondido was only twenty-five dollars. The offer was just too good to refuse. Laurie took a gulp of sweet pink wine, and clicked on the button marked “purchase tickets.”
As the bus approached, Laurie checked her purse to secure her keys and cell phone whilst taking a step towards the baking road. The heat haze from the black-top was distorting the shape of the moving vehicle, melting it into little more than a grey and black mass. There was no wind to carry the distant rumbling sound, so as she narrowed her eyes against the afternoon sun the City King bus appeared, like an approaching shark, moving silently through rippling air towards her.
As the bus reached within a hundred metres or so, Laurie slung her travel bag over one shoulder, and shielded her eyes. At first, she thought the bus wasn't going to stop. In her mind, she saw it sliding smoothly by, leaving her stranded in a cloud of cartoon dust – just like their logo. However, it began to slow and as the vehicle rumbled jolted to a stop, the doors hissed open. She stepped into the darkness and smiled – the interior of the vehicle was thankfully cooler than outside.
‘Hey there.’ The driver gri
‘San Diego - Escondido,’ she said, as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper bearing the Route King logo from her pocket and held it towards the man. ‘I booked online.’
Taking the paper from her, the driver lowered his glasses and peered at it intently. His eyes scoured the details. Beneath his foot, the engine continued to growl impatiently.
‘The website said to print off the details, and hand it to the driver,’ Laurie said nervously.
A frown creased the man’s face for a moment, then, the grin returned, and he slid his glasses back up his nose.
‘Well, that all looks fine, miss. You go get yourself a seat and relax. Should be a fun trip.’
With that said, the driver turned back to the tinted windshield, pushed the gear stick and the bus lurched forward, leaving Laurie to stagger up the aisle. Having lurched from side-to-side, she slumped into the only available seat, and removed her bag. As she slipped her worn sandals from her hot feet, she had a brief glance around at her fellow passengers to check no-one appeared particularly offended by her actions.
The other travellers seemed to be oblivious to her – most were sleeping, listening to music, or staring out of the windows at the parched landscape. Directly opposite her, an elderly man with a neat moustache was reading a battered paperback edition of some Robert Bloch novel. He glanced at Laurie, smiled momentarily, then slipped back into the book.
Laurie glanced back up the aisle of the bus to see there was a bathroom halfway up. She decided she would give it a couple of minutes before she went. As she considered this, a man in the seat directly behind her leaned forward, and placed his hand on Laurie’s headrest.
‘Hi there,’ he said, his voice deep and quiet.
Laurie said nothing.
‘I said hi,’ he continued, undaunted by her resistance.
‘Hi.’ Laurie turned around quickly, then back again. It was a quick gesture designed to show disinterest. There wasn't enough time to see his face, but she got the impression of a ruddy-faced man, with lank sandy hair and a wispy moustache. She reached for her bag and removed her iPod, unravelling the headphone cable. In her experience, earphones were a great way to shut out creeps.
‘Where you heading?’ he persisted.
‘Nowhere,’ Laurie said flatly, hoping he would take the hint and piss off.
‘Looks to me like you’re travelling all alone.’ He whistled through his teeth. ‘You’re a brave young lady.’
‘I won’t be alone; I'm meeting my boyfriend.’
‘But, not your only boyfriend, though…’
‘What?’ Laurie manoeuvred her body half around, with a frown on her face.
‘Well, I don’t see a ring on your finger,’ the man said pointedly.
‘What the hell are you trying to say?’
‘No ring, so you’re not married or engaged, either – makes you open to offers.’
‘Look, mister, I'm not interested, okay? I just want to take a ride in peace.’
‘Okay, okay, Little Miss Grumpy. I was only trying to break the ice a little.’
Laurie stared out of the window, trying to pretend she was interested in the dry desolation. It was like staring into an abyss.
The man behind her finally leaned back in his seat, leaving Laurie to listen to the groaning of the engine and the murmur of chatter. Now, she decided, would be a good time to the use the bathroom.
Making her way along the aisle towards the small bathroom stall, Laurie made only polite glances at the other passengers. There was nothing outwardly peculiar, but, as she glanced at the faces of the twenty-six commuters, she felt momentarily disturbed. It was not a conscious awareness, rather an instinctive feeling that something was missing. Perhaps it was simply there was so little conversation for so many people, but then again, the afternoon heat on an intercity bus could easily stifle that.
When she reached the three steps descending to the toilet, Laurie paused. For an uncomfortable moment, she thought she was the only female aboard the vehicle, but she felt herself relax, as she looked to the back row of seats where a pretty blonde woman was sleeping on the shoulder of the fat man next to her. He was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt and gently stroking her hair as she slept. They were sharing iPod headphones.
The toilet was nothing more than a small closet of polished steel. It smelled of antiseptic. Despite the apparent hygienic state, Laurie was a creature of habit, and she used three or four pieces of toilet tissue from the wall mounted dispenser to wipe the lid. Having checked the door was locked, she slid her jeans over her hips and knees, and sat down. As her bladder hissed empty, she stared ahead at metal door, and noticed it was dented in the centre, as if a bull had charged into it.