Shadow Cat
The Oncoming Storm
The man in the front of the bus stood stone faced as he watched the limp bodies rock back and forth with the violent shuttering of the bus. His breaths came out raspy and loud as the gas mask he wore filtered each one. Even so, the mask didn’t protect him entirely, and he noticed a distinctly sweet smell every time he inhaled. Luckily, years of being a Collection Day Overseer had helped him build an immunity to the effects of the sickly sweet gas, so the smell was the only unpleasantness he had to endure.
There had been years before the gas, of course. But that was before the government decided a heavy dose of sleeping gas made the Infiltration candidates much more agreeable, and much less violent. It certainly made his job easier.
The man turned his attention to the barred windows that lined the white shuttle, watching the trees blur past in a bland mixture of greens and browns as the treeline began to thicken and the trees slowly grew in height. It was a tell-tale sign they were nearing the camp.
His hand trailed loosely on the stainless steel railing that lined the top of the bus for his benefit and his benefit alone as he made his way toward a panel that looked like it had been rigged up on the wall as an afterthought. The plexiglass was rough beneath his fingers, marred by years of rough handling in environments he could only imagine before it was recycled to be used here. He didn’t mind it, however. It got the job done.
He lifted the plexiglass panel, one fat finger punching the red button beneath it, and listened as the faint hissing that had permeated the bus for the entirety of the ride slowly hushed. It took a moment to shut off entirely, but it appeared he had timed it just right- the gas fell completely silent just as the bus rolled to a stop at the front of a large concrete gate.
The gate creaked horribly as it opened, emitting a god awful squeal he could only imagine raised the dead. But not the sleeping teenagers in the bus, thankfully. The bus jolted as it started forward once more, stopping just inside the perimeter of the compound as its entire back bounced and swung open on a series of hinges.
The man waited until the bus driver gave him a thumbs up before grabbing the kid nearest the back, tossing him carelessly off the bus and onto the dusty ground. He repeated the process over two dozen more times, the pile of unconscious bodies growing as chucked each one.
Finally, the bus was empty and he heaved a heavy sigh, feeling his heart thud in his chest from the strenuous exercise. He had been a little more careless this time than usual. A few of them would undoubtedly wake up with bruises. But that was of no consequence to him. His job was done for the year.
“Take us home, Reece.” He said as the back of the bus swung shut, clicking into place once more.
And then they were gone, gates swinging shut behind them as they left nothing but dusty tire tracks and a pile of unconscious bodies in their wake.
There had been years before the gas, of course. But that was before the government decided a heavy dose of sleeping gas made the Infiltration candidates much more agreeable, and much less violent. It certainly made his job easier.
The man turned his attention to the barred windows that lined the white shuttle, watching the trees blur past in a bland mixture of greens and browns as the treeline began to thicken and the trees slowly grew in height. It was a tell-tale sign they were nearing the camp.
His hand trailed loosely on the stainless steel railing that lined the top of the bus for his benefit and his benefit alone as he made his way toward a panel that looked like it had been rigged up on the wall as an afterthought. The plexiglass was rough beneath his fingers, marred by years of rough handling in environments he could only imagine before it was recycled to be used here. He didn’t mind it, however. It got the job done.
He lifted the plexiglass panel, one fat finger punching the red button beneath it, and listened as the faint hissing that had permeated the bus for the entirety of the ride slowly hushed. It took a moment to shut off entirely, but it appeared he had timed it just right- the gas fell completely silent just as the bus rolled to a stop at the front of a large concrete gate.
The gate creaked horribly as it opened, emitting a god awful squeal he could only imagine raised the dead. But not the sleeping teenagers in the bus, thankfully. The bus jolted as it started forward once more, stopping just inside the perimeter of the compound as its entire back bounced and swung open on a series of hinges.
The man waited until the bus driver gave him a thumbs up before grabbing the kid nearest the back, tossing him carelessly off the bus and onto the dusty ground. He repeated the process over two dozen more times, the pile of unconscious bodies growing as chucked each one.
Finally, the bus was empty and he heaved a heavy sigh, feeling his heart thud in his chest from the strenuous exercise. He had been a little more careless this time than usual. A few of them would undoubtedly wake up with bruises. But that was of no consequence to him. His job was done for the year.
“Take us home, Reece.” He said as the back of the bus swung shut, clicking into place once more.
And then they were gone, gates swinging shut behind them as they left nothing but dusty tire tracks and a pile of unconscious bodies in their wake.
