Crimson Aria 

Ides of May

…Smoke…

It filled her lungs, making her cough and spew. They burned, aching and raw with her first breath. She heard the crackle of fire, the screaming around her. Too many noises filled her head which kept her from controlling her racing thoughts. Who am I? Where am I?

Blinded by the sun’s light, her eyes slowly blinked open. Her vision took shape, but the harsh glare pierced her eyes. She tried to shield them, but pain radiated up half of her body from the movement of her arm. It tore a sound from her throat, halfway between a scream and a moan.

A gentle caress softened the pain, then a force pulled her away from the worst of the heat. She rotated her dizzy head and saw blue tones. Her hazy mind struggled to see the face of her rescuer as she came back to reality.

The fear rose in her throat when she remembered. Something had gone horribly wrong. She’d faced death and survived. Snippets of memories fluttered through her mind like nightmare butterflies but were gone as quickly as they entered. A friend’s smile, a phone, what she ate for breakfast.

The boy took her to the shade, beneath a rock structure. The heat, the light, the intensity all faded, and she could think again. The boy had a name.

She knew his name.

She knew her name. Relief flooded her body, the fear washed away for a brief moment.

“Ann…” His voice sounded miles away. How could that be? He stood, cupping her face in his hands. She laid hers on top of his and focused while he tried again. “Ann! Can you hear me?”

She couldn’t answer. A secondary explosion deafened them as he covered her head. Her ears rang from the force of it. She struggled to control her breathing as the fear rose high in her throat, cutting off the air to her compromised lungs.

With breath came the horrid smells. Burnt rubber, smoke, and dark, charred figures lay around them in three directions. Stillness occupied them, their thoughts heavy, until her rescuer stood to leave, and she grabbed his hand as panic tore an awkward squeak from her voice box.

  Don’t leave me alone! She tried to form the words, but her words were gone. He knelt and slowly removed her hand. His smile and mannerisms melted away most of the panic, and she nodded to him. The boy abruptly left to search for other survivors, and she inhaled deeply then released the breath slowly. Then she did it again. And again.

Starting at her toes, she moved each muscle, working her way up her legs, hips, core and arms. She sucked air in sharply as she felt pain radiate through her left arm again. Looking down, she saw a black and yellow piece of metal piercing the upper arm. She glared at it, the strange shape bringing a hysterical laugh at her ludicrous situation. That did not belong there.

She grew somber, attempting to stand. She fell, her legs unsure of themselves. How did this work, again? The second time she stood, her knees locked so she wouldn’t fall. She dared to lift her vision, the scene before her desolate. The black and yellow metal belonged to the school bus she’d ridden on. More quick flashes of memory gave her pause. A field trip, someone shoving past her on the bus, choosing her outfit for the day. The harder she tried to hold on to a memory, the faster it slipped away.

The smoke billowed around what remained of it. Sections of the bus were scattered along both sides of the highway. She put one foot forward, testing her knees, before she made her way closer to the wreckage.

Her rescuer had secured another survivor. He ran past her, carrying a girl, small in frame, in his arms. He set the limp girl down in the shade and walked back, struggling to breathe. At least you’re not alone.

“Ann, you good? I could…use the help.” He followed her gaze to the unconscious girl. “Joy is alive, but out cold.” She heard his voice tremble despite his bravery. She touched his arm gently. He smiled at her silently. She looked over the scene and despaired. Where was the driver, and the teacher?

“I’m good.” She found her voice at last, though it was strange, rough and sore. “What did you need help with Seth?” Seth, Joy and Ann. Those were their names.

He stared off to the other side of the horror before them. When he looked at her again, his voice broke even more, his brown eyes hopeless. “The bus driver and Mr. Huber are… d-gone. Joy’s safe. I’m still trying to find any- “

A low-pitched scream brought back the tension in her body, and she leaned against Seth for a moment. When she was steady, she looked toward the sound, a muscular figure whose legs were trapped beneath what was previously the emergency exit.

She managed to follow Seth cautiously forward. She felt the fear rise with each scream, louder than the last. As they walked eschew from the flames, she prayed to any listening deity that the explosions were over.  

Seth grabbed the bottom. He motioned for her to grab a side. “I lift, then you push, ok?” She nodded, and they lifted the debris off the boy, whose screams turned into harsh breaths. They helped him stand, though his legs shook from the effort. She could feel it as she lifted his arm over her shoulders. She winced as his hand grazed her wound, but she was steady. I know how you feel, big guy.

He was tall and fit. She was grateful when he gained his equilibrium after a few steps forward. With shaky legs of her own, carrying an athlete was out of the question.

Seth, the slender of the two, still helped the larger man to the shade, releasing him as he sat next to Joy. He placed a hand firmly on her good shoulder, a silent thank you for her help. She smiled back as best she could. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes. Maybe there were others? Maybe she could help.

“Connor.” The boy’s eyes rested on Seth. “Connor Owsen, right?” Seth placed his hand on Connor’s shoulder.

“Yeah…” He coughed, breathed deeply. Ann knew how he felt. “What… h-happened?”

“Something exploded…” Her sarcastic humor went unappreciated, however, as Connor ignored it, and Seth narrowed his eyes. She shrugged back at him, but the action shot pain down her left arm. Bad timing on the sarcasm, self.

Connor continued with questions as Seth looked over her wound. “Well, obviously, but how? Where is everyone?”

“Just the four of us so far.” Seth grabbed cloth out of his pocket and wrapped her arm tightly above the wound. It stung, but she understood what he was doing. “I’ll keep looking for others. How are your legs?”

Connor nodded and the two rose to leave. “Ann, do me a favor and watch over Joy.”

Relief came quickly. She didn’t want to stand again so soon. “On it.”

As they walked away, she looked over her bandaged arm. She was tempted to take out the chunk of bus, but some vague recollection of a boring lecture cautioned her against it. She could bleed out.

Instead, she focused on Joy. She could see no broken bones, no burns. Physically, she was in better shape than Ann. Her breathing was slow and even. Ann took this as a sign that her body was functioning at least that much. She looked around Joy’s head for signs of any trauma but found nothing, no blood. She wondered if she should elevate her, or leave her be?

Seth returned to them before she could decide. Connor followed, straining with another boy limp in his grasp. He set him on the ground, Ann between the two reclining survivors.

      “I don’t know him. Do you?”

      Seth shook his head. Ann looked down at his face, noting his breathing was uneven. She gently brushed the sand off his face, noting his skin was several shades darker than her own.

“He’s safe, that’s what’s important. Is there anyone else?”

      She looked to Seth, her rescuer with a hopeful expression, but he refused to meet her gaze. Connor waited in the silence until he seemed to realize Seth couldn’t say it.

He knelt beside Ann and gently drew her to him, whispering a single word. “No.”

     Hope fled her. Her breath caught, but the sorrow she should feel didn’t pass the shock. She focused on the unconscious boy, saying, “I don’t see any blood on him, either.”

     His eyes suddenly opened, dark and wide with fear. His lightning-fast hands reached around her throat and squeezed tightly before she could utter a word. Red filled her vision as she lost sight for a moment, the dark sweeping in. She regained consciousness quickly, her sore lungs heaved as she coughed and wheezed, the red haze fading. Seth and Connor were wrestling the boy away from her.

      “Calm down. We’re here to help you.” Connor half shoved, half dropped the boy on the ground, guarding Ann.

       Seth stepped between the two, calm and composed. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.”

       The boy tried to stand, took a step back, tripped and toppled to the ground. Scooting away he said, “Stay back! Just…” His head hit the ground, and he stopped moving.

       Seth rushed to check his pulse, his breathing. “He’s alive,” he uttered in relief.

       He headed toward her then tilted her chin so he could feel her neck. “Can you breathe? Are you okay?”

       Her emotional roller coaster continued as rage filled her, suddenly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just dandy. Someone tries to choke me to death, someone blows up the bus I’m on, but hell, it’s a bright sunny day! When can we get out of here?”

       Seth suppressed a smile. “We have to stay with the bus.”

       Connor and Ann both groaned. “Really? I say we start walking. We know the way to St. Blaise.”

       Seth sighed, frustrated with them. “The bus and the fire can be seen from miles away. You stay with the big objects so rescue workers don’t have to look all over the desert for you.”

      “That makes sense.” Ann’s voice was still hoarse. “Besides, we’ve got two down. We can’t leave them to die.” She brushed the hair away from Joy’s face.

       Connor spoke softly. “We don’t even know when someone will come by. How are we going to let emergency services know that we’re alive?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a melted smartphone. “I don’t know about yours, but mine’s fried.” Ann grew afraid again. What would they do without a smartphone?

       Seth nodded. “The bus driver would have to check in. The school will know something isn’t right when we don’t make our destination, but we could use help now.” He surveyed the scene before him and said, “Connor, check the backpacks on the right. I’ll check over here.”

       They left, busy with their work. Ann checked both of the unconscious students again before she stood, hoping her legs would hold. Walking around, her brain tried to process what she was seeing, but it was so egregiously horrific that she couldn’t. She stepped to avoid someone’s arm and tripped over something, falling to the hot ground.

She rubbed her head and lay still a moment as the world swam inside her mind. Opening her eyes, she froze, face to face with someone once familiar, but gone. 

Purchase "Crimson Aria" to read more of Ann's story.