Savage

SAVAGE

The bus shook and jolted as it sped down the rough bumpy streets. The
bus driver swerved to miss a pothole, only to be reluctantly forced
into another one. The trip was tangent to normal. Adam and Joe sat in
the back, discussing recently read books. Eight-year-old Damon, with
his mother Jamie, consumed bite after bite of sweet delicious candy.
Gabriel sat in his seat, adjacent to the steps in the back of the bus.
I front of him was a thin metal wall dividing his seat from a row of
seats forming a couch. While sitting in the seats you see across the
bus, rather than the front of it.
Gabriel was about five foot six, light skinned, dark eyed, black
haired, Italian looking fellow. Oddly handsome with a medium build, and
was bizarrely dressed, in all black. Shin high black boots covered by,
what appeared to be, shiny fake leather pants. A black V-cut t-shirt
accompanied by a black baseball cap. There was a gothic design in the
middle of the cap. In the space provided in between the unfamiliar
symbol were the words, "HARD CORE" stacked on top of one another,
stitched in stone gray threads. To complete the ensemble, the most
noticeable thing he wore, a long over sized black trench coat. The
collar turned up, pressed to make it do so. He was definitely an
unmatched character to stand out in the crowd of few.
He was more noticeable than the transvestite in the front row, but he
gave Gabriel a run for his money. With long brown hair and an Adam's
apple, the transvestite sat in a blue one piece with pumps to match. A
sight you wouldn't believe unless you saw it. As if the bus didn't have
enough individuals on board, it crept to a stop at the corner of
Washington and Houston, for another to join the circus.
An old Hispanic man, the drunk, stepped up and paid the fare. He was
stout and dark skinned. A black mustache with black thinning hair,
under a half fabric, half mesh, red and white cap. The logo was that of
a construction company of some sort. The drunk stumbled to the back of
the bus, up the stairs, and thrust himself in the seat directly behind
Gabriel. Gabriel slightly peered over his shoulder as he smacked his
gum like a pro baseball player.
The drunk took a long swig of the twenty-four ounce beer he had snuck
aboard. The brown paper bag quietly crunched as he returned it between
his legs. The drunk disorientedly muttered obscenities, as if he had
Tourette syndrome, but it was an obviously an effect of the
intoxication. Gabriel grabbed his collar and pushed it upward, thinking
it needed it. The presence of the collar made Gabriel's coat very much
resemble that of Dracula. This pressed even more conundrum, if
possible, towards his persona. The drunk continued to mumble his
obscenities in an incoherent fashion. At one point, he rose from his
seat to make a journey to the front, and ask the driver a question. If
sloppy strolling and blood shot eyes weren't enough, the driver smelled
the drunk before she saw him. The drunk asked his question, which could
be scarcely understood by the not very distant driver. She answered his
question then pointed to the beer in his hand.
"You need to get rid of that," the driver proclaimed.
The drunk turned to return to his seat, first consuming the remainder
of the alcohol. He crushed the can as best he could and hurled it at
the transvestite.
"Asshole!" the transvestite screamed in a fabricated woman's
voice.
"Fuck you, homo," the drunk slurred into one fluent motion.
Gabriel shook his head shamefully. He had heard mentally retarded
children make more sense than that, and at least the drunk could
control himself, normally. The transvestite threw the can back at the
drunk. It bounced off the drunk's chest and hit the floor.
"Pick it up," the bus driver yelled, observing the ordeal in her
over-sized rear view mirror. The drunk hesitantly obeyed. He continued
to make his way back to his seat, when he reached the stairs however,
he gave up a plopped, fully out stretched, on the couch just below
Gabriel. The drunk lounged on the seats and rested his head on the thin
metal wall dividing him and Gabriel. From time to time, Gabriel would
cross and uncross his legs. He would, of course bump the wall.
The drunk slammed his fist, shaking the wall and grunting irrational
ramblings as he half turned, attempting to look at Gabriel. Then the
drunk turned and spit on the floor. Gabriel mustered a disgusted look.
Gabriel turned to Adam and Joe, still discussing their books.
"This guy is really starting to piss me off!" Gabriel studied the
drunk. He noticed the drunk was fixated on the transvestite. Every time
the transvestite threw his purse over his shoulder, as though he were
ready to get off, the drunk would also prepare to leave, as if to
follow him. Then Gabriel's intuition showed to be frightfully
true.
The drunk clumsily revealed a large hunting knife from his pocket then
instinctively tried to hide it after it being exposed. Gabriel reached
over next to him and retrieved a black bag, as if from nowhere, and
placed it into his lap. He dutifully unzipped a side pocket and pulled
out two thin white surgical gloves. Gabriel slid the gloves on with the
greatest of care. He then unzipped the main compartment of the bag,
reached in with his gloved hands to grasp something, but didn't bring
it into plain view. He left one hand in the bag and rolled his feet to
tip toes. He looked like a vicious lion, ready to pounce on its prey.
The transvestite finally found his stop and pulled the cord. As he
stood and adjusted his purse, the drunk rose as well. Gabriel instantly
whipped a metal cable out of its hiding place and thrust it around the
drunk's neck. The transvestite had safely made it off the bus, not
seeing Gabriel's attack.
Before the drunk even knew what was going on, Gabriel slipped the left
end on the cable through the manufactured loop at the right end. The
loop was formed from the end of the cable being folded over and
fastened with a metal clasp. Everyone on the bus stared in awe, the bus
driver continued to drive but dared not say anything to Gabriel. In a
matter of seconds Gabriel had the cable completely tightened around the
drunk's supple neck. He stepped up and teetered on the edge of the thin
wall, approximately one to one and a half inches thick. He balanced
himself well, like a tightrope walker.
The drunk began to vomit blood and liquor, along with other
fluids.
"Easy now," Gabriel said in a phlegmatic tone. Gabriel noticed the
drunk was flaunting the knife. Gabriel quickly pressed his heavy boot
on the drunk's wrist and slammed it into the window, forcing him to
drop it. The drunk professed an array of chocking sounds as he gasped
for air, tried to helplessly defend himself, and cry out in pain, all
at the same time. Sympathetic "ohs" and "aws" came from the other
passengers.
Gabriel waited for the worthless drunk to stop shuddering. "There we
go," he said in a sweetly evil tone, as if he were psychotically
talking to a kitten. Gabriel, with his right hand wrapped the slack
from the cable. With his left, he humorlessly pulled the cord
requesting the frantic bus driver to stop. He jumped down from the thin
wall, acting as though his teetering this entire time had been an easy
task. Gabriel hauled the lifeless drunk to the front as the driver,
without hesitation, opened the door.
Gabriel tossed the dead drunk effortlessly in a ditch near the bus
stop as if he did this sort of thing all the time. He half laughed, as
the driver had chosen to stop at an actual bus stop.
Gabriel turned and faced his audience, who stared at him in amazement.
No one, including the driver, moved more than an inch. Gabriel removed
his surgical gloves and placed them in his pocket. He removed his hat
and ran his fingers through his long sweaty hair, then replaced the cap
backwards.
"So," Gabriel said, half smirking, "who can keep a secret."

* The names and events in this story have been altered to protect those
who committed and witnessed this horrific act.

By: Doug Musgrove, Jr.