It’s 6:45 and time to g”
I nudge the phone to shut her up.
Shit, I hate that thing. I chose it because she sounded like Claire on Look North.
You can go right off some people.
I roll over and look through the streaked glass.
Yet another morning of dull.
Getting ready and off for another day of drudgery at the office is so automatic my brain stays asleep right up until I’m reaching for the handrail and the dickhead driver does a pole position start from the bus stop.
I just manage to keep hold of the rail but spin into the disabled space. The grey lining of my navy coat flaps open. No-one should ever see that.
Immediately my vacant brain fills with bile-fueled hatred for everyone there, the driver, the three sniggering schoolgirls, a gormless youth and two sneering suits. A dear old lady looks at me with something between shock and relief, then smirks at me. I hate them all.
A black mist rises through me and double-handed I pull my way upstairs, fighting against the next two jolting gear changes.
Bugger it, my seat at the front window is gone. I instantly hate the girl with her hair all held back in fancy plaiting,, and the old bloke hogging the other corner,, he doesn’t deserve to live.
I know it’s childish but I like to see where I’m going, judge the traffic, pick the line through corners. It gives me something to do. I can’t read in buses.
Using the momentum of the last gear change I grab the top pole and swing around down the aisle.
Then I spot my new vantage point.
Centre seat, back of the bus. Nobody else up here. Just the three of us.
I drop into the elevated perch one micro-second before the driver breaks heavily. I brace myself against the seat in front. I look forward to the camera lens and can sense the driver has checked his screen and timed his breaking to make me fall on my face.
Well, I thwarted him this morning.
A small glimmer of victory pierces my inky mood.
Today will be "The Wednesday" then..
I scope out the bus.
I've practiced taking out the cctv camera but timing is critical for the rest of my plan.
I reach down and make up the hard cylindrical barrel. The silencer is secure.
I breath slowly, gather my thoughts, every detail must be timed to perfection.
The first three shots are critical, timed for just after the stop at five-ways. The driver won’t notice the camera is out for about three minutes, plenty of time for the call.
I go to my trouser pocket, pull out the sim card and swap it over. Good strong signal, I scroll the apps and select voice distort.
I’ll have about two minutes from when I shoot out the camera to make the call, deliver my demands.
My escape route’s researched and by simply reversing my overcoat after ducking down the back lane I can walk back to the office unnoticed.
Before I realise it, the stop at Five-Ways is happening.
Two solid African guys bound up the stairs laughing and take the seats directly behind the girl. I am really pissed off now, but I can adapt, I’m a professional.
Gear change three, Gear change four,
I take out my gun and snap off one quick thud that takes out the cctv, the plastic shatters and the old guy looks up, a clean shot through the top of his head and I’m lined up on the girl, she’s pretty, the bullet through her right temple is gorgeous and I blast the laughing African just behind the ear as he starts to turn.
I am amazed the second guy has managed to spring up and come towards me but my shot left of his nostril drops him like a log.
I get my phone and hit speed dial 1.
The call goes through, without waiting I hit 6. a female says “FirstBus emergency what is the nature.."
“Shut the fuck up. I have the 7:30, bus X98 hostage.
I have disabled the cctv.
I have killed four passengers.
I have two demands.
Demand one. Contact the driver immediately, tell him to stay on route, do not to stop the bus for any reason. Demand two. You will call me back immediately you have done this.
You have forty seconds or I kill another passenger.”
I hang up, sit back in my seat and remove the silencer, re-training the gun on the stairs. From here on in maximum muzzle noise is the preferred option.
I feel the bus swerve nervously and a few seconds later my phone rings, a male voice.
“Hello, is this….”
“Shut the fuck up and listen . You will put the week's payroll into the black case beside the pay clerk's desk. This bus is passing the sub-depot in four minutes, you will contact the driver and tell him to stop and open the doors. You will throw the payroll onto the bus and tell the driver to drive on.”
I hang up, remove the sim card and re-sight my gun to the stairs. Within a minute the top of a head cautiously begins to ascend. One shot into the step above it vanishes the head and ensures my presence is confirmed. A scream rises from below and I click the safety on, sit back and relax.
The depot is visible as we approach and I see Keith running out with my briefcase.
The bus stops and I hear the shout and the case lands on the deck. Immediately the bus takes off.
This is my cue. I stroll confidently to the stairs and pause, a face looks up at me and immediately pulls out of my line of sight. I rush down the stairs and jump into the aisle.
Arming my gun I swing into the disabled space behind the bulkhead and take out the suits that sneered at me. The old bitch and the school kids are dropped before they know what hits them. I break cover from behind the bulkhead just as the CitiSpace sign fills the window.
CitiSpace?
Shit!.. CitiSpace!..
I hit the stop button and race down the aisle.
I fly down the stairs for real this time and quickly take note of the driver.
I notice I am still clutching the rolled-up Metro and embarassed, throw it into the bin.
I smile and as the doors spring open quip “Thanks Anass, go steady on the gear changes tomorrow will you?”
“Hi Mike. Sorry you missed your stop, I didn’t know you were up there. See you tomorrow. Have a good one.”
Strangely this day may be a good one, even if I did miss my stop.
I decide to sit in the centre back seat every day now.
It’s more fun than pretending to drive the bus..
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