The Bus
The bus trudged along the road amid the desert. Probably only the bus driver knew how far along this massive machine was from the bright lights and beautiful women of Las Vegas. That was a realistic approximation considering most of the passengers would have liked to remain in Vegas. Driving to McDermitt, population 269, after being in Vegas for a week was like purchasing an HD television and then losing your eyesight.The sun followed the bus on its journey; never relaxing the hold it had on the large yellow bus with tinted black windows. A shroud of heat surrounded the bus, acting like a strait jacket on a patient in a mental asylum. It made the bus creak more than usual and swamped the inadequate air conditioning system. Beads of sweat stood out on the faces on each of the ten passengers and a handful, a large handful, had sweat stains on their shirts and blouses as well.
What had once been a brand-new, white Greyhound bus was now reduced to a sand-covered sauna. Sand stuck to every spot on the bus's outer surface like a leach that has finally found a good supply of blood. A good deal of the grains had even found their way inside the Greyhound, using the bottom of soles as a method of transportation.
Frank, the bus driver, wiped sweat from his brow with a wrinkled napkin. His other hand, with fingers that resembled thick bratwurst, gripped the over-sized steering wheel. Although he had only recently reached the half-century mark in age, he felt he was too old for this damn job. His eyes quickly glanced down at the liver spots on the back of his right hand and he shook his head.
The bus hit a bump in the road that sent everyone up half an inch from the blue seats covered in running greyhounds. Frank checked the rear-view mirror and saw that everyone looked as bad as he felt. That was reassuring.
It also made him a little angry, though. Why the hell would anyone want to drive, let alone live, in that shit hole known as McDermitt. Nevada had two cities that should sustain life, in his opinion: Las Vegas and Carson City. The rest of those towns could all just slide off the globe he kept planted on the desk in his study, as far as Frank was concerned.
|
|