The heavy exhaust dancing from the back of the bus furled the autumn leaves in a whirlwind of gases and amber nature. And in a blip of lost time, a rumbling diesel engine took off down the winding trail. Music blaring, Jeremy didn’t bother to take notice of the vivid fall landscape built around him. Like a barrier from reality, he was trapped on this droning bus ride for the rest of his sanity, while life continued about its ways without him. He looked around at his fellow passengers: a strange, middle-aged man lost in thought, staring into the endless aisles in front of him; a younger woman giggling and laughing, sharing jokes with what appeared to be her daughter, and finally an average looking man, completing some sort of tasks on his laptop. Although he was sure there were many more people in the rows towards the front, Jeremy was too lost in his music and laziness to bother studying his surroundings. The thought of trekking all the way across the Rockies from Denver to Grand Junction with the only incentive being a chance to get yelled at by his condescending aunt for a weekend was altogether one of the worst experiences of Jeremy’s life. And yet, his mother would always go off on a rant, claiming that “we have to keep the family together, this is your only opportunity to see her, she misses you,” and all of the associated business that he couldn’t stand to listen to. In fact, this trip is the main reason why Jeremy had a tendency to hate all of his relatives. Loudly sighing, he turned the volume up and clunked his head against the shimmering window.
Up ahead, miles and miles down the road, lay a fragment of dusted, cragged metal, jutting out softly into the crisp mountain air. It rose from the broken pavement in a breeze, skittered along past the faded yellow line, and rested once more. And then, a distant rumbling broke out, vibrating with a lull over the rocky crest of the incline. It was coming, and fast. Running, flying, engines roaring, it finally struck into the foreground with a burst of unexpected energy. And the very next moment, the sound of a tire ripping and hissing, lost in the mayhem of sound. A creak, a bend, and a buildup, until finally the breaking point. It had all happened in a matter of seconds, and Jeremy had not even realized until the bus was lying wounded, tilted and mangled on the side of the mountain pass.
The sudden rustling of dry pines lured Jeremy out of his daze. Although he’d been awake for quite some time, the stagnant atmosphere held him from being alert. He pulled himself out of the warped bus seat and into the twisted steel cabin, searching restlessly for an alternate exit, besides the shattered glass windows. Not even daring to stare into the eyes of the dead passengers on the way out. Morning sun and crisp air filled his body outside, yet there was nothing that could make Jeremy feel better. And without a thought, he headed into the woods at a brisk pace.
Keeping his head low, all he wanted to do was get away from that bus. The one thing that he found comfort on before the worst weekend of the year was now even worse than the visit with his aunt. Sneakers tearing along the soft pine floor, eyes being shielded from the Rocky Mountain sun. And it carried on.
Jeremy looked up for the first time in at least an hour or two, and smiled. A hundred yards away lay a noticeable break in the forest, which most likely meant a road of some sort. He quickened his pace up to an eager jog. Trees swept by him in a blur, and rocks jutted out from the earth underneath his quick feet. And finally the woods gave out to the harsh sunlight and a patch of tarmac. What Jeremy saw nearly made him choke; further down the lane, perhaps a few hundred yards away, was a familiar stretch of highway and a crumpled bus.
Mesmerized by this cruel déjà vu, Jeremy could only feel shock as his hands passed along the steel grooves on the outside of the bus.