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“I count twelve,” Jericho said.
“F
ifteen,” Lupe whispered.
“They planned this,” Ling said. “They’re… thinking. How did they start thinking?”
The dead joined hands.
“What are they doing?” Jericho asked Ling.
“I-I don’t know.”
All at once, they opened their dark mouths. A piercing shriek rent the stillness and sent the vultures flying. Everyone on the bus clapped their hands over their ears. Jericho dropped to his knees, howling in pain. As one, the dead lifted their arms. The road buckled. The air around the bus warped visibly. The force of it spun the bus around like a toy until Ling feared she might vomit, if she didn’t pass out first. The girls screamed and slammed from one side to the other. Ling gripped the back of the driver’s seat, grateful for the strength she’d built in her arms. The bus rocked back and forth, threatening to tip over, then settled. The engine cut out. The windshield wipers swished of their own accord.
Jericho pushed himself up from the floor. He checked on Lupe. “I’m jake,” she said.
“Nobody’s jake,” a frightened Babe corrected.
Jericho ran up and sat next to Ling. “How did they do that?” he asked as quietly as possible.
Ling’s eyes were wide. “I think… I think they’re combining their powers, like we do.”
Jericho shook his head, as if it might do some good. “How is that possible?”
“Doc, get us out of here,” Alma said. More dead were streaming down from the graveyard.
“Trying, ain’t I?” The Ford made a strangled-duck sound as Doc pumped the gas pedal.
“No, wait! You’ll flood the… engine,” Jericho warned as the bus died.
“Doggone it!” Babe said.
“I don’t wanna get turned into dust,” Alma said, fighting tears.
“Jericho. I need your help.”
“You mean destroy them,” Jericho said. “Blast their atoms apart. Be a weapon.”
“What choice do we have right now?” Ling asked.
“We could use our powers to fix the bus, get away,” Jericho suggested.
“You think they’re going to let us out of here?” Ling said.
“We can’t take them all on.”
“We can’t leave them behind to go after the next people who wander through here.”
It’s a real conundrum, ain’t it, kid? Sergeant Leonard said. He was seated at the back of the bus. I’m sorry I asked you to help me kill myself. That was a terrible thing to do to a kid.
Tears sprang to Jericho’s eyes. He could hear his blood thrumming. “No. You’re not here.”
“Jericho! What are you talking about?” Ling said.
“Who’s Jericho?” Doc said.
Jericho kept his eyes trained on the dead soldier sitting at the back of the bus.
