No ordinary bus driver

Even before he turned around she knew. He was dead, or undead, or whatever that weird state was called. Pleading with him would do no good. They were the only two on the bus. Looking in the driver's rear view mirror, Reagan pulled back her cap. The tell tale mark.

"Really?" She asked, nodding towards the building. Everyone knew that's how it went down. The chosen were brought to these places. Schools or what have you. Once you were marked. The other alternative was death, like dead death, ashed, not re- alive like the driver. She slid the cap back down on her head, and followed the driver off the city bus. In her head, she called him the reaper. At least she had her hockey gear, something from home. She followed him up the steps into the school. No way would she make the game now.

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