The bus driver held up a big bucket in his hands.

“If you choose not to cooperate, I will be forced to shoot and kill you.”

I gasped. My cell phone was in my pocket. Would he notice it? If he didn’t then I could call 911. But if he did—

“Put it in the bucket!” he roared at a girl in the front seat. She screamed and fumbled with her hands. “Give it to me!”

Samantha suddenly looked down, and grabbed her cell phone that she had dropped. She put it in her pocket. I turned to face her and she shook her head as if trying to say, “Ignore me!”

The bus driver ripped it from girl’s hands that was sitting up front, and pointed the gun at her head. She screamed as loud as she could.

Suddenly, there was another explosion that came from the gun, and the girl that had fumbled with the phone dropped to the floor of the bus, dead.

“I AM NOT JOKING AROUND HERE! I WILL KILL YOU ALL!” the man roared at the top of his lungs, as a few girls cried over the girl’s dead body. The bus driver looked down at the new kill and grunted. One of the girls glared at the bus driver, only to earn a swipe at the face. “Get your phones out now!”

Suddenly, everyone in the front few seats frantically went for all of their electronic devices and threw them into the basket. The bus driver walked down the isle, glaring at every pair of eyes that looked at him. His gun was held in his right hand, his finger set upon the trigger.

What is this man doing? Why does he want to kill us? I was terrified through every mortal fiber in my whole body. I couldn’t even move. Why hasn’t someone tried to call the police yet? Why haven’t we escaped yet?

“GO!” someone yelled in the front seat. I looked up and saw two kids race to the lever that opened the door. The bus driver spun around and shot two bullets. Both of them missed by inches. “Turn it!” one boy yelled. The other boy stood frozen, in pure terror as the bus driver slowly walked up to them, with the gun raised, ready for attack.

The two kids in the front ducked as a third bullet came crashing through the window, splattering them with shards of sharp glass fragments.

“I will kill all of you now if I have to!” the bus driver cried out. He stopped walking when he reached the two almost-escapees.

“Get up,” he muttered. The two boys jumped up, and the bus driver held up the gun to their faces. Both of the kid’s faces were just…unimaginable. How could someone do this to us? Why would he try and kill us? What have we done to him?

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No!”

“No, sir!” the bus driver commanded.

“No, sir!” the two kids yelled out, with painful expressions in their faces.

“Now, if you keep actin’ like that, I’m gonna have to kill you, right?”

“No! I mean…yes!” one boy shouted.

“Yes, sir!” the bus driver roared. Then he raised his right hand, the hand that held the gun, and smacked the first boy closest to him upside the head.

The boy whimpered. I saw a tear come out of his friend’s eye.

“Now shuddup and sit back!” the bus driver commanded.

Suddenly, I heard Samantha whisper under her breath, “Oh my gosh…this guy was in the news!”

I turned my head and looked at her. She looked at me

back. “He killed an entire bus in a car accident,” she added.

I gasped. “We have to call the cops!” I whispered. I quickly stole a glance back up at the bus driver.

She pointed to her left leg. “Mine is under here…”

I touched my right pocket. She nodded. We both looked up and saw that he was staring directly at Samantha and me. I gasped once again, feeling a chill crawl up my back. The bus driver walked slowly to us, raising the gun to Samantha’s chest.

“Hand over your phone now, missy.” He said powerfully, but yet calm.

“I—I don’t have a p—phone.” She said, very unconvincingly. She shut her mouth, not wanting to give any hidden information away. His eyes flashed between Samantha and me, and then he held the gun up to her face.

She screamed and backed up against the window. “Don’t make me kill you now!” he said.

The man raised the gun a bit and then shot a bullet. Samantha screamed and ducked down, as shattered glass littered our seat.

And then he pointed it at me. My fingers shook like crazy and I couldn’t think. Would I give him my phone and not be shot, or would I try to be the hero of the day? I’d rather not risk it.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and dropped it in the bucket that he held. Again, his clouded, gray eyes darted back to Samantha. Then, amazingly, he turned around and started taking phones from the next seat.

I turned back to Samantha and she looked very disappointed in me.

Once all of the cell phones and MP3s were collected, the bus driver returned to his seat, still holding his gun that he had reloaded.

He had chucked the basket through one of the windows, and I gasped. I knew that it was my fault that I had given it away, but still, it was completely gone.

But, Samantha still had hers.

The bus began to move again, and the bus driver kept flicking his eyes up into the mirror to see what was going on.

No one was talking. Or moving. They were just staring straight ahead, knowing that they most likely would not live to see the night.

I looked out the window, and Samantha did too. The sky was gray and very cloudy, and it looked as if it might start raining again. Our surroundings passed by very quickly, as if we were traveling a lot faster than 60 MPH. I sighed. What can I do? There is no way that I can stop this bus and get all of us out by myself. I needed help.

I looked back at the bus driver, whose eyes were focused on the road.

And then I heard it.

Sirens roared through the cold, morning air and all of the teens quickly, desperately, turned and looked into the back window. Cops were chasing the bus.

I felt suddenly very happy, happier than I ever had in my life. Finally! The cops would rescue us!

The bus sped up.

The cops fell behind.

“C’mon…catch up you stupid cars!” I whispered urgently. Every teenager in the bus was staring through the dirty back window, hoping for the police to catch up.

Suddenly, the bus made a swift right, and I was thrown into Samantha’s lap. “Ugh!” she cried, trying to push me off. I looked up through the window again and saw that we were no longer on the paved road anymore. We were heading straight into a group of trees.

He was going to crash! My head flashed back to the cops and saw that they too were off road.

G forces pulled me to the left this time, as the bus driver swung the bus around, this time heading directly for the police cars.

“NO!” I heard two girls shriek as a sudden impact jerked the bus to the right. Samantha fell out of her seat, but quickly regained it as we both looked back.

The bus had smashed into one of the trees that we had almost hit. Wait…we just did hit one of them.

Anyway, the bus apparently wasn’t torn up too bad, because the bus driver accelerated, heading directly for the cops.

I knew that we were going to die. I suddenly felt really cold, and I wanted to know if it hurts to die. Would it be long and hard and painful, or quick and easy? Would we crash the bus and have something plunge into my heart, or would I have to suffer torture if we made it out of this dilemma alive?

Suddenly, the bus swerved to the right, and I was thrown out of my seat, and into the isle. My eyes widened as I watched the bus collided head on into one of the tiny cop cars.

Samantha, who was still seated, flung herself into the seat in front of her, and her body went limp. I was hurled through the air, and I landed on my knees, farther up in the isle. Immense pain shot through my neck and my arm and I cried out, “Argh!” I squirmed, trying to get away from the crash.

The bus driver slowly lifted his head up to the broken and shattered window. The cop car had been flattened, and was now underneath the bus. He grinned and tasted blood, as it flowed out of his nose. The hot and salty taste was all that he needed to keep going. He knew for certain that these kids were not going to live to see the light again.

I scrambled up to my seat, next to Samantha. She was cradling her left arm, and I gasped. Her arm was brutally twisted, and I saw a bone poking out, just barely visible under the skin.

Tears streamed out of her eyes, but she didn’t cry out in pain. I felt empty, just staring at her, and I knew that I had to do something, but I didn’t know how to treat a broken arm.

Yeah, sure, I was a Boy Scout, but I mean, I never remember that stuff that they teach you when you desperately need it. I remember that we had a First Aid Merit Badge night, and they taught us all of these different ways to clean cuts, create bandages and what to do if a poisonous snake bit you, and I was positively sure that they taught me what to do if someone had a broken arm, but I couldn’t remember it. Shoot! I should have paid attention!

“Here,” I said, very calmly, trying not to worry her, “let me see it.”

She shook her head, and said through her tears, “No!”

I sighed. “We will get out of this. I promise!”

Once again, very surprisingly, the bus moved. The cop cars had gone away after the chase, and now we were on the highway once more, traveling to nowhere.

I very, very slowly turned to face Samantha, whose arm was still all bent and twisted.

She was holding her phone in her other hand. She glared at me, wanting absolutely no attention. I turned back around, but my eyes were still watching her.

She slid lower, and lower into the seat. But it did take some time. I mean, from the time that I looked over to the time when she was completely hidden from view took about three minutes.

But hey, she’s a smart chick.

She opened her bright pink cell phone and dialed three numbers: 911.

Suddenly, the whole room was filled with a loud ringing. My head shot towards Samantha, who had wide eyes and she gasped. “It’s on speakerphone!”

I gasped and looked up at the bus driver. He had a sour look on his face, and pulled the bus to the right, so that he could stop. Cars zoomed past us. He stood up, fingering the hand held gun in his right hand, and walked over to us.

“Give me the phone!” I cried to her. She looked at me as if I were crazy. “Give it to me!” I whispered.

She quickly gave me the phone and sat back up.

She looked up into the barrel of the gun.

“Ah!” she cried.

“You lied to me.” The bus driver said.

“What? Oh, uh—“

“Sir, I called the cops.” I suddenly said, really loud so everyone could hear. I heard Tracy gasp and look at me.

“Stop trying to cover up for your little girlfriend here. I know it was her. I never forget faces. Come on, dearie, I am taking you outside. You need to learn to obey other people.”

Samantha gasped in relief as the gun slowly dropped. Her body tensioned. She abruptly stood up and said, “Move!” to me.

I looked at her as if she was crazy, but I moved my legs and she walked with the bus driver trailing behind her, to the front of the bus. Everyone was looking at her. No one was talking.

We were still on the highway, and the cars busily zoomed past us. The bus door was on the opposite side of the traffic. Samantha was trying to make up an escape plan, but she knew that her only option was to go through the door, but the cement barrier prevented that from happening.

What other doors were there?

She looked at Tracy and Angie. They were sitting in the emergency door seat. She looked at them for a moment and then looked back at the bus driver. The gun was raised to her head. She stepped back and turned icy cold.

“What happens to people when they don’t follow rules?” he asked. Then he turned to face the other kids and paced around the front of the bus, waving the loaded gun around.

Samantha tried to tell Tracy and Angie to open their door with her eyes. Tracy seemed to get it, but asked when, silently.

The bus driver looked at her straight in the eyes. “They get punished!!”

He raised his gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Samantha shut her eyes, waiting for the bullet to strike her head. It never did.

“What?” the bus driver roared, “It’s out!”

Samantha saw this as the last opportunity and shouted, “Now! Tracy, now!”

Suddenly, there was a big blaring alarm that went off, and the bus driver shot a bullet. Samantha had already shot forward towards the door and was literally flying over the seats.

“No! Samantha! No!” I cried. I knew what was going to happen.

When she got to the emergency door, she flung herself out of the bus, and right into incoming traffic. She landed on her stomach, and sputtered out a cry that no other has ever matched. She had landed on her broken arm. Tears flew out of her eyes and she looked up. A car hit the brakes, but not fast enough. Samantha was rolled over with the car, being flattened like a pancake.

Blood squirted the car’s wheels and the bus’s yellow body. I couldn’t even bear to look.

It was obvious that we weren’t headed for the Falls. He drove us away, somewhere not even close to where our school was. He kept driving, and driving.

I was devastated by Samantha’s death. Why did it have to be her? How far is this man gonna go to kill us? Emotion swelled up in my body, and I bent lower, wishing my life would end. Samantha, the girl that everyone thought that I liked. Samantha, the girl that had tried to save everyone on the bus. Samantha, the girl that I thought I could be friends with. Tears flooded out of my eyes. I felt desperately empty, as I looked at my seat. The empty seat. Samantha was out there, her body squished and—

No! I can’t even think of it. Why had she done that? Why did she have to go and kill herself?

I bent lower, wishing I had my phone. I really wanted to call the police, to stop this man, and to have Samantha sitting next to me once again.

But I knew that none of this would happen.

And then the bus ran out of gas.

I am still open to any critque!!!!!