The quiet hum of the bus engine intermingled with the soft tunes streaming from Cody's earbuds.
With a deep breath, he readjusted the earbuds, amplifying the melodic rhythm. Closing his tired eyes, he leaned back, his body relaxing into the seat as he slipped into the comforting embrace of sleep.
Beside him, Aya cast a tender gaze upon her slumbering brother.
Her heart swelled with a protective warmth, and without a second thought, she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him gently to rest against her.
“Rest well, dear brother,” she whispered softly, her voice barely audible against the muted background noise of the bus.
Feeling a need for an update, Aya's eyes sought out Mr. Peterson, their ever-watchful guardian on this trip. Pulling out one of her earbuds, she inquired, "How much longer?"
His face broke into a reassuring smile, eyes twinkling beneath the overhead lights. "Only about half an hour more," he replied.
Aya's gaze drifted back to Cody. "He barely got a wink of sleep," she confided, a hint of concern evident in her tone.
"Stayed up the whole night studying for the upcoming test." As if to emphasize her point, she gently patted the dozing figure beside her.
The steady rhythm of the bus on the open road seemed unchanging until, out of the blue, the entire vehicle jolted.
Ed, the seasoned bus driver, had his focus locked onto the road, but even his years of experience hadn't prepared him for the sudden obstacle. The harsh brakes sent Cody's head lurching forward, his forehead colliding with the back of the seat in front.
As Cody groaned, rubbing his aching forehead, Aya gently guided him back to his original position, her face a mix of concern and amusement.
"Should've listened and gotten more sleep," she teased. However, her playful demeanor shifted instantly as her gaze shifted to the front of the bus. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
Following her line of sight, Cody too glanced forward, the impact of the sudden stop now a secondary concern. The scene in front of them was eerie and unsettling.
Ed, his expression graver than they had ever seen, cautiously opened the bus door and stepped out. His voice carried a note of authority they hadn't heard before. "Everyone, stay put," he commanded, as he approached the distressing sight before them.
It was a deer, but not one basking in the glory of life. Instead, it lay lifeless, its midsection brutally torn open, revealing its innards. Disturbingly, distinct bite marks marred its delicate neck.
"This poor creature didn't stand a chance," Ed remarked sorrowfully, his voice thick with emotion.
As he bent down, grabbing the deer's legs, Mr. Peterson joined him, the duo working in tandem to shift the tragic obstacle from the road.
"We'll inform the authorities once we reach our destination," Mr. Peterson assured.
From his seat, Cody watched, a growing unease taking root in his heart.
As the engine roared back to life, Ed deftly maneuvered the bus back onto the road.
Mr. Peterson, taking a moment to compose himself, settled into his seat as well.
Outside the window, the lifeless deer lay at the edge of the woods, a sad testament to the cycle of life. Yet, as the bus drove away, something unnerving unfolded.
The deer's body began to twitch sporadically. After a brief struggle, it opened its eyes, revealing a milky, unnatural white. Laboriously, it tried to rise.
Meanwhile, several miles away, the city was unraveling into pandemonium.
The once-orderly streets teemed with panicked civilians, their shrieks punctuating the air. Amidst the chaos, a team of policemen hastily assembled, weapons at the ready, sirens wailing and explosions rumbling in the backdrop.
A chilling scream cut through the din, "HELP ME! HE'S BITING ME!" Without hesitation, the officers dashed to the man's aid.
What they encountered was a macabre scene: a man, eyes clouded with that same milky white, sunk his teeth into another's shoulder, drawing forth torrents of blood.
In response, the police took aim, shouts of "STAND DOWN!" and "GET ON YOUR KNEES MOTHER FUCKER!" ringing out.
One officer, his badge identifying him as 'Stalker,' exchanged a quick glance with another named Andrew.
The group's leader, Sarge, took decisive action, firing a shot squarely at the attacker's chest. But the creature seemed unfazed, shrugging off the impact and advancing.
The thunderous gunshots attracted more of these...things. The bitten man lay still, another officer desperately trying to rouse him, pressing on the wound to stem the bleeding.
But the tables turned in an instant. The bitten man began twitching, and moments later, his eyes snapped open, mirroring the white-eyed horrors. Without warning, he lunged at the officer aiding him, sinking his teeth into the man's hand.
In the ensuing chaos, Stalker acted swiftly, emptying rounds into the fallen man's torso. But it was clear that the chest wasn't their weak point. With newfound clarity, Stalker aimed a shot at the head, instantly halting the threat.
"Clean that wound, Mack," Sarge instructed, his eyes scanning the horde of creatures drawing near, their guttural snarls filling the air.
Mack, clutching his injured hand, nodded grimly. "We need to save as many as we can," Andrew shouted desperately.
The streets were fast becoming a nightmare. Many of the afflicted bore bite marks, a testament to the contagious nature of this calamity. Stalker's eyes darted across the throng.
"It's a virus," he deduced, his thick Russian accent more pronounced in the heat of the moment.
Firing another precise shot, he downed another of the creatures. Their blood was anomalous, almost viscous and ominously dark.
"We need to move, now!" Sarge bellowed, leading his team and as many civilians as they could gather away from the epicenter of chaos.
Their desperate retreat was met with a relieving sight – the military, rolling in with tanks and armored jeeps.
"Find shelter!" A military official commanded, unleashing a barrage of bullets from his assault rifle at the advancing horde of infected.
