Chapter 8 of the Jack Moore Chronicles The man in the hoodie slowly approached the bus. His arm remained erect as he walked, an orange glow radiated from his hand. increasing as he drew closer. I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I froze. My shoes felt glued to the bus. After this moment of cowardliness, I remembered my testicles and ran to the back of the bus, trying to gain some distance between
myself and the hooded man. As I reached the back, I could hear the door at the front fly off its hinges. I looked at the emergency exit and thought about running away. But what good would that do? This asshole already did something to the driver, and I had a feeling he was connected to Steven's death. I took cover behind a row of seats near the emergency exit. Slow footsteps approached. A whistle echoed through the bus. It was as if this was just another day for the
man. I know you're here, Jack. I know you've been snooping around. This confirmed my theory he was involved. I got up from hiding and pointed the gun. The man was past the driver, but still a distance from me. My hand shook as I gripped the gun. I pulled the trigger. The bullet struck his shoulder. Despite the shot, he kept walking down the aisle, his hand pulsating bright. He whispered something under his breath, and then... It happened. Fire came soaring at me, red and
angry. The heat caused instant sweat. I dove into the nearby row of seats. The emergency exit now had a hole burned through it. I am royally fucked, I thought. Death was knocking at my door, laughing at the stupidity. There was no escape. Another round of fire was on its way. The man's hand pulsated. It was as if he had to build up the energy. This gave me enough time to put my hands up, my eyes closed, accepting my fate. I always thought the Grim Reaper would come through
the bottleneck of a liquor bottle. I didn't expect it to come from a hobo with flaming hands. As that thought faded, the pain on my forehead increased tenfold. My vision began to blur. Like the static of an old TV, the antenna's signal weak. I could see the blurry outline of the hooded man now before me. What the hell is that? The man said as he looked at me crunched behind the seat. In that moment, I think we both felt fear. I blacked out and woke up to find the hooded man
on the floor of the aisle. My forehead pulsated. I was hovering over him. He had blood gushing from his face, turning his unkept beard red. His face was busted up. My fists were bloody. My knuckles ached. I can't tell you how I kicked this guy's ass, but I sure in hell did. Was it the Viridian Golding spoke of? The questions had to wait. The man who lay beaten in the aisle was older. It was hard to tell his exact age, considering the recent pounding. He looked like
Gandalf the hobo. His gray hoodie was stained and worn from years of use. Could this be the guy that killed Steven? My anger was starting to cloud my judgment. I couldn't just assume, though. Despite the obvious evidence, I took my graphic tee and wrapped it around the wound on his shoulder, helping this piece of shit. Made me sick. It was either that or the body odor and liquor dripping from his pores. His pockets were empty. No cash. No phone. Nothing.
The only thing I found was on the palm of his hand. The same one that, just minutes earlier, had called for my death. Within the age -spotted, wrinkled skin was a branded symbol. The same one found at the crime scenes. I wish that was the strangest thing to happen. I then heard a loud crack. I looked up front to see the driver. His head was turning slowly on a swivel. The crack of his neck grew louder as it rotated. His head finally settled. The brim of his hat
now faced his back. His eyes were soulless. He was beyond dead. His mouth slowly opened, as if being possessed by a demon. The soft voice of a woman exited the man. Well, this is an interesting turn of events. I assumed you to just be a nuisance, a pest infesting her with your ignorance. You should stay out of this. We are doing it for her. She will be displeased with you. What is this? The woman's voice laughed. A simple spell, don't you know? Or are you just a newborn? Still
sucking at Mother's teat. We will cleanse her of every virus that threatens her. Including you. The driver's body fell limp. My body dropped into the nearest seat. I sat in the middle of the bus. I looked down at my hands to see the blood. I didn't have long to think. I could hear honking behind the bus. There was a car behind me. I couldn't call the cops. They were already suspicious of me. I had to get moving. Walking to the front, I grabbed the dead driver's hat.
Stepping over his body, I walked off the bus, the door no longer on its frame. My bloody fists were hidden in my pockets. An old bug sat honking. I forced a smile and moved to the driver's side of the vehicle. Hey, sorry about this. Looks like this old piece of shit just stalled. I almost got it going again, though, so just give me a few and I'll be out of your hair, okay? That looks a little worse than that. She pointed to the hole scorched in the back of the bus. Oh,
yeah, that. Just some kid playing with fireworks. You know how it goes. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to sell the lie. The young girl behind the wheel rolled her eyes. I ran back onto the bus, passing the driver, and then... I sought. The bearded man was gone. The gunshot wound's blood trail marked his escape path. I ran back out the bus to see if I could find him. A small trail of blood soaked in the snow. It stopped only a few feet from the bus. The best lead I
had was now gone. Fuck. I screamed, my breath visible in the cold air. Unforgiving weather. I could have maybe gotten some answers. The only hope I had was gone. He fucking vanished like Houdini. The only path I had was forward. My dad's place was a few hours away. The engine rattled and the smell of burning oil overwhelmed the remaining scent of blood and death as I drove off into the night. Hey you. Yeah you. Thanks for listening to this episode of the Jack Moore
Chronicles. Curious to see how the story unfolds? Make sure to follow the show so you don't miss what's next. If you enjoyed this episode, please consider leaving a review. It really helps us out. Want more podcasts from Wolfshield Media? Check out our website at wolfshield .media. Until next time, thanks for listening to this Wolfshield Media production.