“Holy shit!” said Eve, who had silently joined them at the front of the bus. “They’re like packs of piranha.”
Dave steered the bus through a gap between an overturned people carrier and a gold and black Mini Cooper. They scraped against the Mini and exchanged paintwork. Nick figured it was the least of anybody’s concerns right now.
The bus jolted as the tyres crunched over something and swerved slightly. Fortunately, Dave kept a tight grip on the steering wheel and held them straight.
“What was that?” Nick asked. “What did we run over?”
“You don’t want to know.”
They got halfway around the roundabout and the roads seemed to clear a little. Mangled bodies littered the verges, but there was no one walking around there. The car wrecks were also at a minimum.
“I think we’re through the worst of it,” said Nick.
“Yeah,” Eve agreed beside him. She sounded relieved.
Dave put his foot down in reply and the bus lurched on its axels. While Nick couldn’t be sure, he had a feeling that the guy’s unflappable manner was actually masking a great deal of fear; fear that was currently manifesting as a heavy right foot.
“Hey, buddy. Slow down a little.”
“It’s fine, we’re clear.”
“I know,” Nick said, “but we don’t know what’s around the next bend.”
“Hey, this is my bus. I picked you up, remember?”
“I just don’t want us to have an accident.”
“We won’t. I know how to drive.”
Something collided with the front of the bus. Dave slammed on the brakes. The bus fishtailed, its tyres slipping. The left side of the vehicle rose up off the road, making Nick feel weightless and tossing him to the other side of the aisle. Eve screamed and then landed right on top of him. For a few terrifying seconds, the swaying interior of the bus was silent as the passengers held their breath and waited. Nick was sure that the vehicle was about to tip over onto its side and end up in the ditch.
But it didn’t happen.
Thank God.
The bus came to a stop with a pained screech of its tyres. Nick climbed to his feet and headed back to the front of the aisle. Dave was staring ahead in a trance. He had gone deathly pale.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
Dave continued to stare forwards. “I-I’m fine. W-what did we hit?”
“I don’t think it matters,” said Nick, pointing. “Look!”
In front of them was a group of maybe ten or twelve infected people. They glared at the bus and let out a single, collective screech.
As a single entity, they rushed forward.
The first body to collide with the bus was that of a child. The small girl had blood-soaked pigtails tied with two bright-orange bows. She leapt onto the windscreen and clawed at the glass. The rest of the mob hit the bus a heartbeat-of-a-second later from every direction. From inside, it sounded like a hailstorm was underway, but the view from the windows betrayed the true horror of the situation. Blood-shot eyes peered in at them from all sides. Swollen and smashed faces smeared themselves against the glass. Nick felt like a zoo exhibit, except in this case it was the spectators who were dangerous and not the animals in the cage.
The bus’s interior went dark as all sunlight was blotted out from the windows by the writhing bodies. The weak strip lighting above the aisle flickered as the vehicle rocked to-and-fro. Nick looked back to see the terrified faces of the other passengers and knew right away that none of them had any ideas what to do.
He turned to Dave. “Can we still move?” When there was no answer, he shook the driver by the shoulder. “I said can we move?”
Dave snapped out of his daze and then blinked his eyes rapidly. “I-I don’t know.” He reached shakily for the ignition key. “Let me try.”
The engine grumbled back to life at the first try. Nick sighed relief. Dave worked the clutch, kicked the accelerator, and the bus lurched forward.
“We’re moving,” said Dave, “but I can’t see a damn thing.”