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didn’t think they were the source of the poo. I looked to the seats beside me. There was a paraplegic army man with hooks for hands. Then there was a woman across the way. She was filthy covered with rags, and sticks in her hair. Just as I turned my head in her general direction, the smell got stronger. She smelled like poo. Why did she smell like poo? Did she just take a crap where she was sitting? My eyes began to burn. I looked up front. If I went up front I could breath, but the burlap killer sat there.

  For the first time, I contemplated that maybe would be better off just walking to town. And as if the bus driver was reading my mind, the bus came to a stop. I began to take a step forward, but was immediately was pushed back by a flood of men in suits. At least thirty of them pinned me in the back of the bus.

  “Excuse me,” I said, tapping one on the shoulder. He looked back at me with his glassy eyes. “Can I get through?”

  “Nope,” he said simply.

  “No. You don’t understand. I have to get off.”

  “Nope,” he said once again.

  The bus began to move.

  “No! Stop!” I yelled. The bus continued to move. “No. Bus driver stop! I have to get off”

  But the bus kept rolling. Crap. I heard a laugh from the lazy eyed tweaker at the front of the bus. “Sucks to be you Becky!”

  This was ridiculous. I could not be held prisoner on the poo filled bus. I turned to the back seat. The clown smiled and waved again.

  “Can you three move,” I said. “I need to knock out the window.”

  The clown only smiled and waved again. The knitting lady was humming a song and acted like she didn’t hear me. And the hill billy well he was still asleep. Wait a second, he was too damn pale. Was he dead? I gave his shin a kick to make sure. He woke up startled and pissed, but he was still alive. If he didn’t wake up my blame was going to go straight to clown.

  “What the hell lady?” the crusty old hillbilly said.

  “I need you to move. I need to kick out that window and get the hell off this bus.” I couldn’t keep the dead pan tone out of my voice.

  “Well you can’t. All the window and emergency exits are welded shut!”

  “Why?”

  “For crazy yahoos like you who’ve been diving out of the late bus during the late routes. Now leave me the hell alone.”

  So this is common. People are diving off the bus commonly because of axe murderers, creeps and poo? Well at least I wasn’t alone in the world. I looked up to the edges of the kick out window. I now could see the welded seems. He was right. Crap!

  I sighed accepting my fate. I turned standing once more facing the front of the bus. The aisle ahead of me was full of nothing but men in black suites and bowler hats. Where the hell they came from as anyone’s guess. It just wasn’t typical to see thirty or so men dressed exactly the same, nice clothes too, out in the desert.

  I examined the man in front of me. Was he a business man? Then something crawled out of the back collar of his neck. It was a bug. It was a cockroach. Why?

  The next thing I knew it leaped from the collar onto my hand. I shook it trying to get it off. The act did little good. I tried to brush it off with my other hand but it wouldn’t budge. It was like it glued itself my skin. Crap! A pen that’ll do it. I could just impale the thing and it would be dead and have to let go. I reached for my purse. Where the hell was my purse!? It was missing.

  I glanced back at the clown. He smiled and waved. He didn’t have it. Who the hell did? The burlap killer? The crack head who insists on calling me Becky? Miss. Poo? Oh god, please don’t let it be Miss Poo.

  There was a sudden buzz. The bus driver was on the speaker. “Okay folks. We are having some electrical trouble. The bus is pulling more on the battery than it should, so to make it to town we have to turn off the interior lights for the next two hours.”

  I finally was able to pry the bug off of my hand with an iron grip and stomped it.

  The lights started to gradually flicker off and on.

  “No!” I screamed. “Don’t turn off the lights!”

  The words went unheard. I then heard a peculiar noise. It sounded like a chainsaw. Well, shit!

  The End

  Also By Samie Foster

  Palm’s Inn

  Netherworld

  Powers

  Warped

  Nel and the Tower of Spirits

  Christmas Times

  Jade Dragon

  House of the Rising Sun

  New Dawn

  Night’s Blood: Apocalypse

  The Covens

  The Key to the Sands

  Poison

  A Fairy’s Tale

  Hollows

  Short Stories (Downloadable Shorts)

  The Secrets of Charles Mahogany

  Vanity

  June Bug Vs The Dragonflies

  The Dark West by Jonathan Reese

  On the Air with Mike Gypsy and Sacheana Crow

  The Emergency Patient

  The Island

  Sam and Miguel’s Run

  Somewhere Beyond the Sea

  In The Land of Gods

  The Junkyard Murders

  Trudy Dallas and Living Dead

  Mint and the Golden Compass

  My Name Is…

  Midnight Special Series (Downloadable Shorts)

  To Hell and Back

  Murder at Blue Bayou

  Bishop

  The Daily Chronicle Series (Downloadable Shorts)

  The Youth Killer

  Cursed

  Alice Series (Downloadable Shorts)

  Alice: Winter’s Story

  Collections

  Stories Vol. 1