The bus ticket used a good portion of the c-note, a bite to eat from Timmy’s and some time in a coin-op shower at the bus station used some more. By the time Kendra was on the Greyhound, she had around 15 dollars left in her pocket.
The bus was near empty despite the mid-day departure time. Ridership had dropped off since that guy got cut to bits on a Greyhound last year and that suited Kendra fine. It was quieter, and soon the warmth and the movement of the bus put her to sleep.
It felt like days later when a buzzing feeling at the base of Kendra’s skull woke her up. It was familiar, and her heart leapt into her throat. Something was about to go wrong – very wrong.
The bus had stopped at a gas station near Kingston. Standing, she could see she was alone on the bus and could see the driver outside of the restaurant having a smoke.
Somebody in a trench coat stepped on to the bus and Kendra’s mind screamed. She didn’t know him, but didn’t hesitate in ripping a seat from the floor and throwing it at him.