Zombies, Frat Boys, Monster Flash Mobs by Ted Neill

Author:Ted Neill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young women -- Juvenile fiction, Young men -- Fiction, Action Adventure, Science fiction
Publisher: Tenebray Press
Published: 2022-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

La Caravana de los Mutilados

Liam and Mitchell went toward the back of the bus, sitting down on a seat over a wheel well. Liam was silent. Mitchell too, except for mumbling a few more phrases that made no sense: “The statue got me high . . . narrow your eyes . . . on the hall of heads which describes what you are feeling.”

“Mitchell, what are you muttering?”

“Muttering, what? Me?” Mitchell replied, his confusion genuine.

“Never mind.”

If the incessant nonsense-speak was a nervous tick or a form of self-soothing, Liam still didn’t know. He felt bad for even bringing it up now. He didn’t want to embarrass Mitchell, especially if it was some weird form of Tourette’s syndrome, emerging as a result of stress.

Sets of girls began to make their way back onto the bus. Liam tried to smile or even wave in an effort to find some kind of allies, but the girls pointedly ignored them both. The boys followed soon after. They filed in and took their seats with some difficulty. The narrow aisle did not leave much room for crutches and braces. As the seats filled up around them, Liam grew worried that they might have taken someone’s seat. But if they had, the boys and teens didn’t appear to mind. This batch of prisoners were warmer than the girls had been. The boys greeted them with soft Holas spoken under their breath.

At least they’re acknowledging our presence, Liam thought. That’s progress.

One medium-sized teen came striding down the aisle. He had windswept hair curling just above his ears, broad shoulders, and deep dimples that showed when he smiled at Liam and Mitchell. He plopped down in the seat in front of them, whispering, “Buenos días.”

He was not maimed, although he had a series of scars stretching from his eye in a row all the way down to his lip. On his back was another teen, just a few years his junior. The kid ridding piggyback was slight of build; his bony shoulders poked up through his shirt. He was missing his left leg just above the knee as well as his left arm at the elbow joint. As the boy let go of the other boy’s collar, Liam could see he was also missing the last two fingers and a chunk of his right hand.

Still, this maimed boy smiled at them. His face was heart-shaped, with fine features narrowing to the well-proportioned point of his chin. His smile was not even his most unexpected feature. That had to be the Jewish kippah and the beginnings of two payot braids hanging down on either side of his face. Liam had only ever seen Orthodox Jews wear their hair that way. The Jewish-Latino kid was sporting a black T-shirt with white lettering in the style of a “Black Lives Matter” shirt. It read:

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