Trent laughed, a harsh barking sound. He slapped the plexiglass barrier hard enough to make it rattle. “That’s what I thought, beta.” He turned and swaggered to the back of the bus with his crew, taking up the disabled seating area, sprawling their legs out into the aisle. Arthur simply shifted the bus into gear, checked his mirrors, and pulled smoothly out into the driving snow.
But, beneath the faded flannel shirt, something old and dormant began to stir. The drive up Route 42 was a white-knuckle experience on a good day. The road hugged the edge of a steep canyon, a sheer drop-off of 300 ft on the right side, guarded only by a rusted guardrail that wouldn’t stop a compact car, let alone a municipal bus. The snow was falling heavier now, thick wet flakes that plastered themselves against the massive windshield. Arthur drove with a mechanical, flawless focus. He anticipated the slips before they happened, feathering the brakes and steering into the microscopic slides with the intuition of a man who had driven in environments far more hostile than a Colorado blizzard.
In the back of the bus, Trent and his crew were growing restless. The quiet submission of the driver hadn’t satisfied Trent’s ego. It had only emboldened him. He was a predator who had found an environment with no resistance, and he was getting bored. Across the aisle from Trent sat a young woman, maybe 19, wearing a ski resort uniform. She had her headphones in and was staring fixedly out the window, clearly trying to avoid the boisterous group of fighters.
“Hey!” Trent called out to her, kicking the heel of his boot lightly against the plastic siding of her seat. “Hey, sweetheart.” The girl kept her gaze fixed on the dark snowy window. “Are you deaf?” Trent barked louder this time. He reached over and yanked the headphone cord out of her phone. The girl gasped, turning to him with wide, frightened eyes. “Please, leave me alone.” “Just making conversation.” Trent smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
He stood up, towering over her, and placed one hand on the back of her seat, and the other on the seat in front of her, effectively trapping her in a cage of his own arms. “You work up at the lodge? I bet you’re used to serving guys. I’m telling you to serve me some attention.” Greg and Cody chuckled, feeding off the intimidation. The rest of the passengers were frozen, held hostage by the threat of explosive violence. No one wanted to intervene and become the target of four trained fighters.
Up at the front of the bus, Arthur’s eyes flicked to the massive rectangular rearview mirror. He saw the girl’s terrified face. He saw Trent’s aggressive posture. Arthur didn’t sigh. He didn’t show anger. He simply flipped a switch on the dashboard. The hydraulic brakes engaged with a massive shuddering hiss. The bus decelerated rapidly, but smoothly, pulling over onto a narrow, snow-covered turnout on the edge of the canyon. The vehicle came to a complete halt, the engine idling with a deep rumble. Arthur engaged the parking brake.
