Page 217 of The Wicked
The bus was filled with children, scared, wide eyes staring right at us.
My head snapped towards Chika, who had a smug smile, taking two steps back from the bus. “What the fuck is this?” I seethed.
He didn’t answer, but he gestured to Devil. “You. Start up the engine, and drive.”
“With my cuffed hands?” Devil glared.
“Pretty sure you can pattern that, easy,” Chika said. “No stress, we tested. It works.”
With a flare in his nostrils, Devil got in the driver’s seat after stealing one glance at the children on the bus.
“What are you playing at? Let the kids go!” I yelled.
“It’s all part of the game, sweet.”
“Don’t fucking bring children into this, you bastard.”
He dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small remote. “There’s a bomb installed and attached to the bus, just there, on your right.”
My gaze flickered to the beeping device by the first passenger seat.
“Bro, what the fuck?” Dog bent to inspect it.
“It’s a very special bomb, you see.” He smiled.
“This isn’t funny, Chika.” My voice shook.
“You don’t drive, it goes boom; you drive, it counts and eventually goes off, but still gives you an hour’s worth of minutes to count your friggin’ blessings.”
“Let the kids go.”
“You stop driving, it goes off. You drive too slowly to preserve fuel, the time reads faster; you drive too fast to alert theauthorities, it reads even faster. Either way, it’ll go off but will buy us enough time to be out of sight.”
“You’re fucking crazy bringing innocent children into this!”
“How else will I make you sweat…Faizan.”
“You motherfu—”
“I’d start driving now if I was you, fam!” Chika yelled at Devil. He clicked a button on the remote, and a beeping sound went off inside the bus. Cries of panic from the children, not more than ten to twelve years old, filled the bus.
I glanced at the bomb; the time was counting down rapidly, faster than a second at a time.
“Shit, Devil, drive!” Dog yelled.
“Fuck,” Devil cursed, stepping on the gas as one of the men slammed the bus door shut, leaving me staring at Chika’s smirking face while he raised his hand in a slow wave, and the bus started to move.
“Permission to contact Angelo’s people, Zahra; that shit doesn’t sound funny,”Upper said with an edge to his voice as the bus pulled into the road, past the car we brought to the scene.
“Don’t contact anyone.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Devil gritted out.
“What on God’s fucking earth do you suggest we do then?” Dog looked as angry as Devil sounded.
My gaze landed on the children. Scared eyes locked on me like they were also waiting for what I would say next.
I looked back at the bomb, the beeping going steady now.
