Karl had driven the bus in town for quite a few years now. His morning route seen him pick up a host of children whose addresses were too far from the school for conventional travel. After they were safely delivered to classes he then did three separate town routes, picking up mostly the retired or the unemployed, dropping them off in the shopping district. Most people in town drove but the service Karl provided was an important public service. It was a government job and as so, had a rather inflated wage associated with it. At three pm he would begin the school drop off route before doing one final route in the evening.

Karl was a peculiar man, his sinister looks were completely offset by his personality. Although he fled Germany many years prior he had never completely lost his accent. Since being accepted in the new country he had worked hard to obtain his acceptance by the people around him. Now some twenty years later his mammoth grin was well known throughout town. Even so he was well aware that it made him look somewhat creepy and tried to refrain from using it too often.

This particular morning started for Karl like any other. Picking up unwilling school children who had been dragged from slumber by zealous parents, before dropping them at school. Then the morning route seen him pick up the usual assortment of character, who engaged in the usual meaningless banter of politics and soap opera.

It was the three o'clock pickup when he first noticed a change. An eerie calm spread thought the children, an unusual disposition for those just released from the burden of classes. While some it seemed they were simply in a down mood, others were much more strange. Looking in the rear view mirror, a host of eyes stared back at him while they sat with straight backs. One by one he dropped each student home until only one remained.

Billy Davis lived on the outskirts of town, his father owning a large farm which supplied chickens to the local processing plant. Karl was glad to be finishing the route, the children's behavior had bothered him and he wasn't sad to see the last of them home for the day. Pulling up he watched young Billy rise from his seat and approach the front of the bus. For a long moment he stood facing Karl, as though he had asked a question of him and was waiting for an answer.

"Can I help you with something Billy?" Karl asked deciding that it was best he disrupt this behavior.

Without a hint of rage or malice the boy began to grab at Karl's uniform, knocking his hat off and tearing two buttons from his shirt. Karl wasn't a small guy and despite his passive demeanor he knew how to handle himself. However he wasn't accustomed to fighting sitting down or against someone who was still a child. He struggled to his feet, knocking the boy into the small stairwell. Young Billy however refused to let him go grabbing at his head and moving in as if to take a bite from his face. For a twelve year old he seemed quite strong and Karl strained just to keep him at arms length.

The noise he was making was unlike any child he had heard before, something like a guttural groan in slow motion. As though he were trying desperately to heave something from deep inside himself, but without the breath to do so. Pushing away hard, no longer caring if he hurt the child, Karl forced the young-ling out of the bus and on to the road side. Reaching for the lever to close the door he prepared to defend himself again but the child simply stood unfazed, as though he had just stepped of the bus of his own free will.

Karl was a hardened man and had seen many things throughout his life, none of which he had let get the better of him. As he drove away he tried to think logically about what had just happened and came up short, for some reason this bothered him more than it should have. Where he would normally have marched up the drive to inform the boys parents of his behaviour, something about this incident made him feel like he should leave it be .

In the mirror he watched as Billy walked the long drive to the farmhouse. Karl had seen many distressed people during his life, families in Germany torn apart and then racism in America, but this attack was different. The boy hadn't seemed angry or shown any other kind of emotion, now that he thought about it. That's what made him feel so uneasy, why he couldn't say and furthermore he had no clue as what to do. It took a long time for the feeling to leave him.

The next morning Karl donned his dark glasses not wanting the farmers kid to see the unease in his eyes. Billy however seemed unfazed, he paused at the driver's seat to give Karl another long look before taking his usual seat. Whatever was wrong, it was more than just Billy now, as each child climbed the steps into the bus, it was easy to see they were not themselves. Eyes burned into his back down every street making Karl wonder what would happen if they all decided to follow Billy's lead. He worried for nothing it seemed as they filed off the bus at the school, leaving him to go about his day route.

The children were only the beginning. Within days everyone who rode the bus was acting similarly strange. Always he could feel that he was being watched as people stated at him as though they could hear his thoughts. It was a strange feeling, not knowing how to feel. Seeing people he knew, as they settled into a creepy routine of going through the motions. Karl wanted to feel some kind of outrage, he wanted to cry out to them but instead he found himself helping in the same way he always had. He kept driving the bus everyday as per usual, trying to find reasons to be cheerful but coming up empty every time he reached into his pit of a stomach. Instead he kept his shades on and his uniform pressed neat, he wore his grin like a mask, even if behind it he felt not a shred happiness.