The hiss of static pouring from the television screen was frightfully eerie as the five occupants of the room watched and waited with their breath stilled.
A date appeared in the lower right-hand corner of the screen: February 23, 2000. To the five in the room, that day had been their Armageddon. The world had simply stopped.
"This is Victoria Peterson with Channel 5 News, on the scene of a recent wreck involving a two-ton truck & driver, and a bus carrying six individuals. It's been confirmed that some of the passengers on this bus are members of one of the current pop acts today, the Backstreet Boys. While our sources have not yet confirmed the condition of the group, we have word that at least two of the five members are in critical condition..."
A shiver ran down Howie's spine at the chilling words, his memory taking him, however unwilling, back to that day...
"YOU AND ME BABY AIN’T NOTHIN’ BUT MAMMALS…” I groaned out loud and yelled my protests over the raucous singing, but unfortunately for my pounding head it kept coming; “SO LET’S DO IT LIKE THEY DO ON THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL!”
“AJ, I swear to God if another word comes out of your mouth I’m going to kill you,” I grunted, rubbing my temples in aggravation. AJ just grinned at me.
“Oh c’mon, Howie! It’s a brand new leg of the tour, a brand new city we’re heading for with a brand new nightlife that promises brand new LOOOOOOVE!” AJ sang; “So cut loose. Boogie down. Get down with your bad self!” At that he spun around and shook his backside in my face. I backpedaled instantly, grunting in distaste.
“How you’ve managed to survive thus far is beyond me,” I grumbled, trying my hardest to remain aloof and annoyed. AJ shot me one of his famous toothy grins over his left shoulder and strutted away like a peacock. I don’t think he was expecting Nick to leap on him in that moment or Brian to bound in finishing off the rest of the chorus to “The Bad Touch.” But as amusing as it all was (and believe me, it was highly amusing), I still managed to chuck a few pillows from the seat next to me and shoot off a couple really nasty glares before I burst into hysterics. I think it was the shade of blue AJ’s face had turned, combined with the southern twang Brian threw into his voice that finally did me in.
Nick finally released AJ (Much like a bulldog, Brian had to prod him off with promises of Big Macs and ice cream as a reward), and with a great gasp the color returned to his face for one fleeting moment before he expelled it again with great guffaws. I chuckled, enjoying this display immensely. “Weren’t you supposed to bring Kevin back with you?” I asked Brian good-naturedly. He just smiled in return and shrugged.
“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” Nick asked, rubbing his palms together rather sinisterly, as was his strong point; “A good bloody shoot-em-up-bang-bang movie?” Brian added a “BANG, BANG!” to that comment.
“Close,” AJ croaked, his voice strained from his encounter with Nick. “I believe the movie for tonight is ‘Chocolat!’”
I rather enjoyed the expression that then found its way to Nick’s face. Jaw open. Eyes wide and disappointed. If you looked hard enough there was the slightest glimmer of drool on his bottom lip… “You have got. To be kidding. Me.”
AJ snorted. “Mission Impossible 2, buddy. And don’t you ever haul your big behind on me again or I swear I’ll shoot you.” Nick has gotten rather good at mastering that toothy grin of AJ’s, as he then demonstrated. Another snort of annoyed recognition came from AJ. A cocky smile slid its way across my lips; I get an unhealthy amount of joy watching AJ go through the same torment he puts me through.
Brian came over and threw himself into a chair across from me. I was lounging comfortably across the padded bench seat that wrapped around 1/3 of the room. I watched in terror as Brian tossed a deck of cards onto the table between us. “Poker time,” he grinned. I groaned; I hated playing poker when AJ and Brian were involved. Between the two of them they could wipe me clean.
“Whooooooooo!” AJ howled. He had been howling all night. I swear to god if he continues at his current tone for much longer, I will lunge across this table, despite my exhaustion, and wring his little… “STRIP POKER!” he finished, and I went back to rubbing my temples.
“Bone, I don’t know if it’s just because you have a strange desire to be naked at all times or what, but strip poker pretty much isn’t worthwhile if there are no GIRLS playing,” Nick said pointedly.
AJ smiled, one of those sinister Nick-smiles (lord help us all), and sashayed his way to Nick. He plopped down on his lap, laced his arms around Nick’s neck, and purred: “C’mon Nicky. I seen the way you look at me. Admit it—you think I have a cute butt.”
Nick threw him to the floor with a flourish, howling like a cat that’d just been thrown into a tub of cold water. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grossed out my ENTIRE life than in this moment!” he screeched, voice cracking and all. No one attempted to reply to him because we were all rather incapacitated by our loud laughter. After Nick finished his kicking and screaming fit, and after we’d all had time to catch our breath and wipe the tears from our eyes, everyone managed to settle down for a game of poker—regular poker (much to AJ’s dismay). AJ was sitting next to me on the right, Brian across from us, and Nick at the farther end of the table. AJ had gone off to tell Kevin to hurry his butt in here, but had returned alone. After a few hands I was beginning to wonder where Kevin was, and was about to ask over the loud and raunchy jokes when time seemed to freeze.
I can still see the smiles frozen on all their faces—I’ll probably remember them until the day I die. The way Nick was bent over, face beaming with laughter; AJ with his head back and cards flattened to his stomach as he attempted to catch his breath; Brian with that infectious grin that made his eyes slight into thin blue slits. Always remembered without the sound of the laughter that had rung so clearly in the room that day, as though someone had pressed the mute button on my memory. Perfectly quiet, like a moving, shifting photograph; until the next second solidifies in my mind, sound crashing back in like a pillar of smoke so thick it threatens to suffocate me. It was the brash, heavy, high-pitched scream of tires screeching against the blacktop road.
You know that one moment when you’re on a roller coaster between the slow climb and the fast drop—that one minute before you plummet that makes the air feel too heavy to swallow, and your lungs ache for just a second, almost giving you the feeling that someone just punched you in the stomach? Then the leap of your heart to your throat as it all comes rushing back to you? That somewhat describes, in the smallest measure, what that one second on that bus was like that day… the second between that first shrill noise and the next.
I remember seeing Brian fly haphazardly across the table, his body twisting grotesquely until he finally slammed up hard against the bench, just under Nick’s feet. Nick flew forward over Brian, tripping and landing flat on his neck. AJ had had enough sense to grab the edge of the table in front of him to brace himself as he flattened against the seat, while I just blindly groped at the cushion, too thunderstruck to do anything else to protect myself. There was a moment of calm where gravity released us from its firm grip; we were at the top of the ride just before the plummet.
“Wha-” I was barely able to register the sound of Nick’s unfinished question. Half a second later we heard the next, and one of the last, sounds—metal grinding against metal, a powerful and horrendous crashing. Accompanying this sound was a brutal impact that sent both AJ and I flying this time. AJ slammed hard into the edge of the table he had been using for support, grunting in pain as his midsection folded in on itself. I, not having had the sense to grab on to something, found myself experiencing the sensation of flying as my feet left the ground, coming up over my head as I tossed face first over the table. Upside down images of Nick and Brian smashing hard against the far wall filled my vision until I hit, and things went black.
____________________
Sounds were dim, but they were coming in fast. “Howie? Howie? Damn it Howie, you talk to me!” I groaned, feeling the worst headache I’d ever felt in my entire existence swell up under my flesh, pounding so hard I thought I could feel the skin lift off of my skull. I slowly tried opening my eyes and things flashed from black to bright swirling colors that made a sickness rise in my throat. I tried swallowing it down as I desperately attempted to focus on the swirling images before me. AJ materialized somewhat, just enough for me to see the grief and then sudden relief on his face—along with a huge, long gash that dripped with blood. As he reached a hand out towards me, I just barely noticed the stain of red all over his fingers as well.
“Oh thank God… thank God! Oh my God. Oh, God, Howie, I thought for a minute… I thought for a minute you were dead. Oh thank God you’re alive,” he spouted off quickly, his voice breathy and terrified.
I groaned again. “What happened?” I murmured as the bile rose again, fresh in my throat, and my eyes grew teary at the sensation. I heard AJ, as though at some distance, as he rambled off broken words about a crash and the bus flipping and everything going to hell, but all my brain could focus on was the strong heavy sickness. I squeezed my eyes shut and when I reopened them I felt so dizzy that I knew there’d be no way I could suppress the oncoming sickness.
I flipped onto my elbows with a strength I’m surprised I had at that moment, and tried to drag myself away a little before I gave in. Stars crackled heavily against a black backdrop, even though my eyes were open (or so I thought), as I vomited whatever I could. When I was finished I was dismayed to discover it hadn’t relieved any of the pressure at all, save for returning a little of my concentration. I heard a piteous moan and a short scream of pain, and without even thinking I mumbled, “Help them,” over the lump in my throat.
AJ turned then and moved towards a crumpled heap of flesh that may have once been the infamous duo of Frick and Frack. Brian was still, face pushed to the wall, arm thrown over his head. Nick wasn’t far off, tangled with Brian’s legs and howling with pain; his leg was obviously broken, twisted in a gruesome fashion and dripping with blood. AJ crawled his way over to him and Nick latched on to his shirt tightly, choking on his own pain as sweat dripped from his hair. His face broke into fevered, strangled sobs. AJ lost it then and began to cry as well, trying to comfort his wounded friend.
I felt the sting of tears in my own eyes for a moment before I turned and retched again, violently forcing the sickness away. I wanted to collapse then out of grief and exhaustion and pain, but I knew I had to help my brothers and I forced myself to move towards them.
Brian began to stir with a low moan, and as he moved his arm I could tell that it too was broken—actually, more like completely shattered. “Brian?” I groaned, swallowing down the bile that just would not go away. As I neared him I could see his eyes shoot open in terror, then hear as he exploded into a tormented scream. He began to writhe, and I grabbed hold of him by the shirt and tried to calm him. He convulsed in loud cries of pain, glancing frantically at his arm between every scream.
“Ah, my arm! My arm!” he wailed, trying to move it.
“Take it easy, take it easy!” I cried, trying to help him. “Just stay calm, it’s okay. It’s okay now, we’re all alive, it’s okay. I’m here Brian, I’m here. Grab my hand.”
Brian grunted, trying to hold in another scream, and pawed frantically for my hand with his good arm. He held on tight as he tried to overcome the pain, crying and convulsing with each painful breath. “Kevin,” he yelped, “Where is Kevin?”
I felt my heart stop for a brief moment. Oh God, don’t do this… I thought. I didn’t know where Kevin was. I hadn’t seen him… hadn’t even looked for him. Brian looked up at me only to see my mouth open and my expression lost before he threw his head back again, trying to suppress another scream while letting out what sounded like a strangled “Oh God.”
I glanced at AJ and Nick, both of whom had calmed considerably, but still looked terrible. The gash on AJ’s face spanned a length from just under his chin, along his jaw and up behind his left ear. It was so deep that it still dripped with fresh red blood. There was another gash on the opposite side of his face, just slightly above his eyebrow, which also ran with blood. His hands were cut up and bleeding, and that’s all I could see outside the layer of clothing that sheltered the rest of his body—though small red stains could be seen forming through the fabric of his shirt. Nick’s blue jeans were black where blood had soaked through, oozing from his broken leg. He clutched AJ’s hand with his own, the both of them white at the knuckles from the straining grip they held. Nick’s glistening face was turning pale.
Then a horrifying thought entered my mind—what if there was a gas leak? Sure, I may have seen a few too many action films, but the threat of danger grew strong in my gut. “Guys, maybe we should leave the bus,” I murmured.
“Howie, I don’t think Nick can move anywhere,” AJ panted brokenly. His face was twisted into the most painful frown I’d ever seen him wear.
I pursed my lips together, thinking of what to do. “We should at least try… I don’t want to be anywhere near this bus incase something else happens,” I grunted. I could see the same thoughts I just had race through AJ’s mind before he gave me a halfhearted nod. I turned back to Brian, who was still writhing quietly. “Can you walk?” I asked gently.
It took him a minute to respond. “I think so,” he grunted, squeezing my hand harder as he suppressed another terrible scream; “It hurts so much, Howie,” he wailed softly.
I began to tear up again. Resolutely I squeezed his hand back, and moved to a new position. “I know,” I told him, “but we’re gonna get you out of here.” Slowly I managed to help him to his feet, and he grabbed onto his arm to keep it from hanging loosely at his side. “You ok?” I asked, trying to hold him steady while my own head swam. He nodded, jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly as he held in his pain. “I can walk,” he whispered; “Help AJ with Nick.”
I then looked back to the sorry two, where AJ had managed to move Nick into a sitting position but not much else. I nodded to Brian and abandoned him to help my other two friends. “Get that side,” I told AJ, motioning to Nick as I threw one of his arms around my neck. AJ did the same at his other side, and slowly we tried to lift our broken friend. He cried out in pain as we got him to his one good foot, whimpering and sobbing as we took a moment to steady him, repeating frantically, “Are you ok? Are you ok?” He nodded halfheartedly, squeezing his eyes shut and holding in another sob.
A strange sound drew my attention away from Nick to where Brian stood; or rather, to where Brian had once stood. He had taken off down the remains of the corridor; I could hear him crashing through on his way to the bus door. Then all I could picture in my mind was Kevin. “Come on,” I said voicelessly, urging AJ and Nick to start moving.
AJ and I pretty much carried Nick to the other side of the room, making our way to the crumpled gap that would lead us out of the bus. Before we could make the step through what remained of the doorway, a chilling scream filled all our senses to the extent that all three of us held our breaths and felt our hearts stop. Stars crackled in front of my vision again as the adrenaline that had just jettisoned through my system began to subside, and I dared a glance to the other two guys. Their faces were probably just as pale as mine, and told me everything I needed to know.
Brian had found Kevin.
_______________________
Howie took in a great shaky breath, his eyes damp with unshed tears. He cautiously looked around the room to see everyone else, save for Kevin, with what looked like a half-smile/half-grimace on their face; it was obvious that they were going through the same memories he had just revisited. A sob threatened to burst forth from Howie’s lips when he saw AJ paw at the long dreadful scar on the left side of his face, deeply lost in thought. Even after all these years it still looked pink and bleak to Howie.
AJ sighed, his chest heaving dramatically. The woman on the television screen didn’t look in the least bit worried or shook up, and he felt sickened by her callousness.
“…While our sources have not yet confirmed the condition of the group, we have word that at least two of the five members are in critical condition…”
‘Ignorant reporters,’ AJ thought to himself. ‘Figures they’d get all the details wrong.’
“It’s obvious by this point that not many people are entering or leaving the site, probably due mostly to the dangerousness of the scene and the difficulty the EMT’s are having on getting some of the victims out…”
AJ nearly choked on his tongue when an image of Larry pinned grotesquely against the steering wheel flashed though his mind. He frantically pushed it away, fighting the sickness that threatened to overtake him. His head was suddenly pounding, and he rubbed it carefully. He knew, however unwilling he may be, he was going to go back to that day…
“Full. House,” I taunted, laying more than adequate emphasis on the L’s in full and the S in house. I spread my cards out on the table, grinning in satisfaction at the groaning and whining that came from my other band mates.
“You know AJ, it’d be nice if you’d let the rest of us win every now and again,” Howie complained, throwing his cards on the table. I smiled, batting my lashes innocently, and Howie snorted in disgust.
“So a Mexican, a Polish guy, a rabbi and a priest walk into a bar...” Nick began as Brian started to shuffle the cards. Everyone in the room erupted in protests, shouting for him to stop. He, of course, didn’t. “The bartender looks up and goes ‘What is this, some kind of joke?!’”
“Ba-da-bum, Nickers,” I chortled. The room burst into laughter, a warm, homey laughter that felt like three brothers sitting around a table talking after being apart for a long time. Nick’s face predictably turned red, which just prompted more laughter from the rest of us. I couldn’t believe Kevin was missing this.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brian said over his laughter, reaching up to wipe a few tears away as he began passing out our cards again. “I’ve got one. So a skeleton walks into a bar and orders a beer and a mop. Drum roll…”
“Boo!” everyone hissed, snickering. A few pillows went flying past Brian’s head, and he laughed, avoiding them each time.
“I have one more,” Nick said, picking up his last card and arranging his hand. Everyone groaned despairingly. “No, now come on, just listen. So. A baby seal walks into a club.”
There was a pause where everyone waited for him to finish, and then like a light bulb had just come on over our heads we all got it at the same time. The room roared with a mixture of ‘BOO!’ and heavy laughter, everyone trying to get in their snide comebacks at once. “The ASPCA so owns you!” I shouted, and Nick doubled over.
“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad!” he defended, red-faced once again.
“No, it was worse!” I retorted. The room erupted into loud, whooping laughter. One thing I loved about hanging out with these guys, even though we were together so much, was that it always felt like I was with my brothers and I hadn’t seen them for ages. It was a feeling I usually cherished, sometimes despised, and almost always took for granted. This was my family.
At that moment, high with amity, a loud screeching noise intruded in on our merrymaking, ripping through the easy, calming sounds of jollity with a startling, harrowing cry. I gasped, nearly gagging on my own laughter as the hands of gravity grabbed hold of our bus and shook it around. Without realizing I was doing it at all, I grabbed the edge of the table, letting my cards spill over my lap. I pushed myself hard into the cushion of my seat, watching with a thread of terror as the cards slipped away from my lap and fell down across the floor. Brian came flying toward me over the table and I squeezed my eyes shut and jerked my head away, not turning back until I heard the dull thud of bodies crashing into each other. I turned back in time to see Nicky flying out of his seat, over Brian, who lay crumpled gruesomely at his feet, and onto the floor below. He had pawed at the table with his hands to no avail, as there was nothing to slow his violent descent before he crashed hard on his neck and shoulder. Howie looked pale, cemented to his seat with binds of gravity, reaching out for nothing.
For a brief second gravity seemed to release us, bored with the small bus, and my panic began to die away. “Wha-” It was an echo of Nick’s voice, full of pain and confusion, but it wasn’t allowed to speak. Viciously, gravity came back to remind us of that.
Sounds were dull against the fast beating of my heart and the unnatural rhythm of my breathing, but this sound was hard to miss; A horrifying, sadistic crash, then the grind of metal succumbing to metal—the sound of our bus howling in pain. The accompanying impact sent both Howie and I flying.
I had not been prepared for the blow, save for my waning strength pressing me into the seat, so when it hit my arms gave way as though they had been rubber. I flew into the table’s edge, feeling it dig hard into the palms of my hands and my gut. I grunted in agony but was determined to hold firm. Behind the ripples of pain I watched helplessly as Howie went flying headfirst over the table before he crashed mercilessly to the ground. I meant to cry out his name, panicked by the grotesque way he landed, but the sound died in my throat as another blow tried to send me airborne as well.
I was jerked cruelly to the side, feeling my hands burn as they slid across the table’s edge against their will. I held on despite the pain, tumbling out of my seat and under the table. With horrifying clarity I then knew—the bus was going to flip.
Glass shattered, electricity sparked, and things went flying everywhere as the bus began to roll. I lost my grip on the table’s edge, crying out in despair as I groped for the pillar that attached the tabletop to the bus’s floor. I hung on tightly, feeling the tendons in my arms groan in pain as the ground suddenly disappeared from beneath me.
Crash! We had landed on our side. Brian and Nick flew across the room defenseless, terror left hard in their faces. The light in the room flickered, hissing at us angrily. The bus tipped, rocking teasingly for a moment, before hurtling over once again. I was swung into the tabletop, grunting as my shoulder and ribs impacted hard with the formica. One hand lost its grip and I howled in horror. Crash! Our bus fell harshly on its roof, and I was thrust from my perch to the open expanse beneath me. I came down flailing, unable to yell or shout and not seeing the point in doing so anyway. I landed on my back atop a pile of broken glass and equipment. I bellowed in pain, arching away from the rubble, but that just made everything hurt worse. I rolled away, tears of anguish bristling in my eyes, and lost all comprehension of what was going on outside of my broken body.
The crash of the bus as it rolled again became the cry of my body as it was beaten from wall to wall. The grunts of my still coherent band mates as they too were thrust hither and thither became the howling of my mind as the pain registered but was unable to seep past my lips into words. And the last flicker of light as the bus finally came to rest exanimate upon its crest was the last flicker of light behind my brown eyes.
_______________________
Everything was still and dark. The air smelled like burnt rubber and gasoline, and tasted like coal. There was a hissing sound, accompanied by pops and creaks at various intervals. It was like a nightmare, an evil dream world, and I didn’t want to be here.
There was a cough—actually, more like a crackling sound—and I could hear the slow escape of breath from an unwilling windpipe. I opened my eyes and looked around the darkness, terrified by what I saw. Things were broken and scattered all across the small room, the dim glow from the emergency lights making everything appear as though they were on fire. Immediately in front of me there was a particularly interesting burning mass, and I almost choked when I realized it was a body.
Quickly I flipped to my stomach, groaning as my back screamed out in pain. I edged my elbows beneath me and lifted my tired body somewhat, reaching a hand behind my head after I had come to rest unsteadily upon my knees. It came back brazen with red. I moaned, wiping the sticky fluid onto my jeans before I noticed a steady drip, drip falling beside me. More of that sticky red substance was pooling by my leg, and I shut my eyes in horror. Slowly I reached a hand up to my face and gasped when my fingers brushed across a sensitive laceration along my cheek. I suddenly felt sick, but forced myself to ignore the blood and damage and move on to what was more important.
I slowly moved towards the quiet body, fear gnawing at my insides. I flipped the figure over onto his back and stifled a gasp as Howie’s pale face turned towards me. He looked… he looked dead. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to wake him. My voice was raw and tender, and no matter the pitch or tone, Howie would not open his eyes. After a while I began to wonder…
Was I going to be the only member to walk off this bus alive?
