Ethan's eyes met the woman's bloodshot gaze just as she suddenly lunged at the person sitting next to her, sinking her teeth into their arm. Chaos erupted in the bus. Screams filled the air as passengers scrambled to put distance between themselves and the woman, who now seemed to be consumed by a violent frenzy.
Ethan's heart pounded as he leaped from his seat. The bus driver, catching a glimpse of the mayhem in the rearview mirror, immediately pulled over and opened the doors, yelling for everyone to get out. People surged toward the exit, pushing and shoving in their panic.
Ethan found himself near the driver's seat. "Call the police!" he shouted over the cacophony.
"I'm on it!" The driver grabbed his cell phone and began relaying the emergency to the dispatcher, his voice tinged with disbelief and urgency.
Ethan hesitated for a fraction of a second, considering whether he should try to physically restrain the woman. But the look in her eyes, that terrifying blend of violence and hunger, made him quickly discard the thought. Instead, he decided to follow the last of the passengers out, his backpack snagging briefly on the handrail as he exited. The driver came out last, his cell phone still in hand. He used his master switch to close the doors from outside once everyone had cleared the bus.
Even though Ethan wanted to leave the scene immediately for his sister, a morbid curiosity rooted him to the spot just outside the bus. His sister would just have to wait those few minutes longer; the magnitude of what was happening here held him fast. It was as though a critical part of the story was unfolding before him, and despite the danger, he felt compelled to see it through — to understand the chaos that had erupted so suddenly into his life.
A few minutes after the doors closed, Ethan heard the distant shrill sound of police sirens growing louder. Two patrol cars sped into view, pulling up beside the bus with screeching tires. Two officers jumped out, their faces set in grim lines.
"What's going on?" one of the officers demanded as he approached Ethan and the driver.
"Inside, there's a woman who went insane and attacked someone," Ethan pointed to the bus, "I think there's something seriously wrong with her."
The driver corroborated Ethan's account, his own hands shaking with anxiety.
One of the officers spoke into his radio, calling for backup and medical assistance. Then, with hands resting cautiously on their holstered weapons, the officers approached the bus. They cautiously opened the door and entered, their movements deliberate and tense.
Not long after, loud screams and the sharp sound of gunshots started coming from within the bus. The noises were jarring, and then, almost as quickly as they had erupted, they ceased. The atmosphere grew thick with a silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, amplifying the tension.
Finally, the bus doors opened. The two officers emerged, their faces visibly strained. One of them clutched his bleeding arm, the fabric of his uniform stained dark. Ethan's eyes widened at the sight.
"What happened in there?" the bus driver asked, his voice tinged with horror.
The officer with the bleeding arm grimaced as he responded, "We had no choice but to shoot her. She wouldn't go down, no matter how many times we hit her. It was only when we... when we shot her in the head that she finally stopped."
A collective shudder ran through the crowd, a palpable sense of dread settling over everyone. Even the officers seemed disturbed, the grim lines of their faces etched deeper by the haunting ordeal.
Ethan looked at the gathering of passengers, their faces still awash with disbelief and fear. A shared trauma hung heavily in the air. It was as if they had glimpsed some horrifying aspect of human capability, a raw savagery that defied understanding.
Ethan's gaze shifted to the officer clutching his bleeding arm. The man's face had gone pale, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Uhhh…What's going on," the officer stammered, his voice tinged with an anxiety that wasn't there moments before. "I'm starting to feel strange."
His partner shot him a concerned look and immediately radioed for medical assistance, urgency palpable in his voice. "Officer down, we need an ambulance now. Possible infectious bite."
The mood among the gathered crowd shifted perceptibly. What had already been a terrifying ordeal now took on an even more ominous tone. The potential implications settled over everyone, heavy as a storm cloud.
Ethan's eyes widened as he observed that the bitten officer suddenly started to twitch. The man's eyes were changing, the whites taking on a disconcerting bloodshot hue similar to the woman on the bus. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and everyone's attention focused on the rapidly deteriorating officer.
The man's partner, noticing the change, stepped back, his face a mask of dawning horror. "Oh God, no," he muttered, fumbling for his radio but not taking his eyes off his afflicted colleague.
Ethan felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. "We need to back up," he said urgently to the people around him, pulling them away from the immediate vicinity of the officers. The crowd, already on edge, moved back instinctively, their faces reflecting both fear and confusion.
Another police car arrived, pulling up next to the first two. An officer stepped out, taking in the scene before quickly realizing something was terribly wrong. He approached cautiously, his hand on his holster.
"Hey, what's going — ?" His question cut off as he saw the twitching officer, who immediately let out a guttural sound, before losing all rationality and started sprinting toward him at an unexpected speed.