WRAITH CASE STUDY AUGUSTA PINE #4
“Hey,” I said, “the day that hijacked bus stopped for the dinosaur ice cream. Did anyone actually buy any?”
The bus continued toward the Rogue River.
I let the bus take its course, because it was obvious to me now that it wasn’t programmed to drive into the river. Rather, the bus took a left turn into the lot of an abandoned state park. The brown signs were rusted and the pavement was cracked and uneven.
Brakes hissed, the engine powered down, and then the doors slid open. A few more chunks of tempered glass tinkled gently to the ground, and an automated voice cheerfully informed the passengers it was time to disembark.
For a moment, no one moved. Then everyone surged to their feet and began rushing for the doors as if afraid they might close again. I let Peter go in front of me and I heard Shin at my back, carrying his kids.
We spilled out into the parking lot. The air smelled of sun-warmed water and fresh greenery, shrubs kept alive by their proximity to the river.
The Rogue was beautiful, twisting through the burned forest. A few people headed for the restrooms, settled on concrete benches.
Others simply stood and stared at the bus like it might catch fire.
Elle walked toward the river, gazing at the water.
“Well,” she said, “if we had to take a detour, this isn’t so bad. ”
Archer stood a few steps away. He gave me an incredulous stare. “I can’t believe you crawled out of a moving bus,” he said. “I’ve seen some wild stuff, but never something like that. What in the world made you do that?”
“Penance,” I said.
“And what would a kid like you have to be guilty about?”
I looked out at the river. “Surviving.”
“Ah.” I expected him to ask for more details, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave me a small, tight smile. As if he understood. “That ring,” he said. “It belonged to my wife.”
Past tense. And I understood why he would keep it near, why he toyed with it in moments of stress.
And perhaps that was the best thing I could encounter in my transient, dangerous life. A moment of understanding—when my own trauma brushed up against another’s.
I walked away from Archer. The sunlight was pleasant, and I regretted that I wore a long-sleeved shirt. It would have been nice to feel a little heat against my skin. Sitting on the slope of dead grass and large rocks, overlooking the river, was a lone figure.
I sat down beside him.
“Mint chip,” I said.
Peter looked up at me, brows scrunched together. “What?”
“That day you made the bus detour for dinosaur-shaped ice cream,” I said. “Only one passenger actually went inside and ordered ice cream. And no one else on this bus likes mint chocolate chip.”
His big brown eyes flashed wide in surprise, and in that moment he lost his grip on the tablet.
I gently pried it free and glanced down at the screen.
There was a game—aliens fighting a war in space—but it wasn’t moving.
A screenshot of a game. I flicked it away with two fingers and up came the screen I’d truly been looking for.
It showed a bus navigation system.
“How’d you know?” Peter asked.
I shrugged. “I was put on this bus to find you. I knew the previous hijackings had taken passengers to tourist destinations and no one got hurt. But this time, the driver was passed out—I thought the hijacker had drugged him and was escalating to violent crimes.”
Peter frowned. “I didn’t do anything to the driver.”
“I know,” I said. “I assumed things. I assumed you were innocent because you’re a kid.
I assumed the driver was a victim, when in fact he was probably the most dangerous criminal here.
Drinking on duty? Come on.” I rested my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands together.
“Now, out of professional curiosity, how did you do it? Hijack the bus at age ten?”
“I’m twelve,” he protested.
“Well, that changes everything,” I said dryly.
Peter looked down at his knees. He seemed to be expecting a scolding.
I nudged him gently with my shoulder. “Come on. As someone who hijacked her first car at fifteen. How’d you’d do it?”
His gaze swept up to meet mine, startled by my confession.
“First trip up, my tablet was dead. I asked the driver if I could use his phone to text my parents.” He shrugged.
“They’re not supposed to come out of the cabin during trips, but I cried a little.
So he let me borrow his phone. I … downloaded some malware onto it.
Gave me access to all his passwords. From there, I could get all the drivers’ passwords, then lock them out. ”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And why here?” I asked, nodding toward the river.
“My dad asked my mom to marry him here,” said Peter.
“I looked up the location once, and it was pretty. I wanted to see it.” A bitterness beyond his years crept into his voice.
“I kept hijacking the buses because I thought my parents would notice. Maybe one of them would worry when it was late. They would care. But neither of them did.”
He hugged his knees a little tighter to his chest. Probably for effect, the little con artist. I grinned at him.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked.
“You’re going to have to answer some questions,” I said.
“But are people going to be mad?” he asked.
“Actually,” I said, “I think a very nice recruiter is probably going to visit your parents in the next few days. You could get your education paid for, have a career waiting for you when you graduate. If that’s what you want.
And if it isn’t…” I handed the tablet back to him and looked out at the river.
Green grass flourished beside the river and I saw a few fish darting between the rocks. A small oasis in a scorched land.
I said, “Next time, order a different ice cream flavor.”