The Doomed Schoolbus!

Snuggled deep within the rugged hills of eastern Kentucky, the small community of Coalville was like any other quaint midwestern town. The best thing about Coalville was that it was off the beaten path, far from the hustle and bustle of the big cities, and it featured some of the best hunting, legal and illegal, in the state.
The community also boasted that it was the most holiday-oriented town in the country. Regardless of what holiday it was the people turned out in droves to celebrate with gusto and excited seasonal spirit. The first, and one of the greatest holidays they celebrated, was Halloween. The town was lit from end to end with jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, and cornstalks, even the police cars were decorated with orange and black ribbons. It was in this setting that on this Halloween Eve, the town would meet with disaster.
School was out and the children waiting for school bus number 9 were beginning to fidget. All the other busses had come, loaded their passengers, and left. It was almost half an hour past time when their driver, Mr. Harley, finally pulled up and opened the levered doors.
“All aboard,” he yelled. “Next stop the cemetery.”
“Ha Ha,” replied Kevin Donovan, a ten year old wearing a Spider Man costume. “My paw’s gonna fire you for being so late. We have to go trick-or-treating and you take your sweet time picking us up.” Kevin’s words were not an idle threat for his father was on the town council and owned one of the largest businesses in town.
“If they’d get this old rust bucket properly fixed, I wouldn’t have been late,” Mr. Harley spat. “I’m surprised any of them run at all. Not only that but half the kids on this route were picked up by their parents and I had to verify it. At least I only have ten of you creeps to drop off today.”
“You probably been hiding behind the bleachers getting soused with beer,” Kevin answered, a smirk covering his pudgy little features, his fat body blocking the door.
“Move it Porky,” a voice behind Kevin yelled, pushing him up the bus steps. This was the voice of authority coming from Neil Grant, a tenth grader and one of the school’s football jocks. He had Allison Wendham, a cheerleader, hanging on his free arm like an extra jacket.
“Up your nose with a rubber hose,” Kevin responded, quickly retreating into the safe confines of the bus. He knew Neil was all talk and no action because his old man worked for his dad and he wouldn’t dare hit him.
The first stop for bus number 9 was almost eight miles out in the country. Mr. Harley liked to take the Interstate Highway to Route 302 then drop off his charges along the curving county road as he slowly made his way back towards town.
First stop was the Bosken place to drop off Adam Bosken, then two miles to the Hendricks place to drop off Ben and Sarah Hendricks. Almost a mile past the Bosken place the bus came to a dying stop and settled in the middle of the road.
A loud moan came from the students packed in the bus. Mr. Harley turned the key on and off several times but there was no power none what so ever.
“Blasted bus,” he yelled, hitting the steering wheel with his hand. “I told the maintenance guys this dad blasted thing wasn’t working properly.” He jerked the swinging doors open and flew down the stairs. The children could hear him cursing as he threw up the hood and begin to poke around inside the guts of the bus motor.
Fifteen minutes went by and the noise in front of the bus quit. Not a sound could be heard. Another fifteen minutes went by without a sound. A thick fog was beginning to roll in and it was starting to get dark.
Neil Grant walked to the front of the bus and down the stairs. He leaned out and yelled. “Mr. Harley! “Where are you? What are you doing?”
No reply.
The fog was getting thicker and thicker.
Darkness was quickly closing in.
Neil turned and shrugged. Not a word was said.
“Go find him,” Kevin whispered. “It’s getting late. We’ll miss trick-or-treat.”
“Find him yourself Porky,” Neil replied. “He’s probably in the bushes drinking that rot-gut whiskey he keeps in his jacket pocket.” He pulled the swinging doors closed to keep out the creepy fog.
Another ten minutes went by without a sound. The nine students left on the bus became worried and frightened as the dark closed in and the heavy fog thickened.
Suddenly, something hit the bus very hard, something big and heavy.
They screamed in fright.
The doors to the bus suddenly flew open!
Walking up the short steps was a huge man wearing the mask of a wolf. The children suddenly realized it was not a mask when the creature licked it’s fangs and saliva dripped from the wide gaping mouth.
As they watched in terror, the wolf’s head slowly transformed into the features of an old Native American with gray hair. He was wearing a native choker around his neck and a feather in his pigtail. His eyes were dark and piercing as he slowly and quietly scanned the children who had gathered in a panicked knot in the back of the bus.
“I am a shape shifter,” the Indian stated. “I can assume the body of any of my animal brothers. What you were never told, is I can also turn you into any animal I so choose. You have been found guilty of crimes against your animal brothers and sisters and you must pay for your crimes.”
The children still stared at him in whimpering terror.
“Each of you know what you have done to deserve this punishment. Hunting for fun. Killing a pet to watch it suffer, torturing a wild bird before killing it, and many other crimes. I am here to carry out your sentence.”
The thick fog completely engulfed the screaming students then, suddenly it was gone.
The school bus was found later that night with the lights on and motor running. None of the children were on board. Despite a nationwide search none of the children or the driver were ever found again.
A hunter did find Mr. Harley’s wristwatch. The deer he killed one day was wearing it. Mr. Donovan killed a wild pig near his home and they roasted it over the Bar-b-Que. Funny thing about that pig, he was wearing part of an old Spiderman costume. They found Neil’s school jacket in the woods torn up by some wild animal. There was no blood on the jacket but they assumed a bear made off with Kevin. Other families reported tame squirrels breaking into their homes, a raccoon in their lost kid’s bed, several field mice begging to be released from traps, and other strange animal phenomena.
No one would ever believe the animals in question were their missing children.