Maria Chunez had never been on a Greyhound bus before.
She'd never had a reason to before today. Growing up in the border town of Mexiras, about forty miles south from Laredo, she'd stayed close to home, never crossing the border or even wondering what Texas was like. But earlier that year, her niece had moved to Oklahoma City, finding a great job right away. As a Christmas present, six months early, she'd sent Maria and her two young sons round-trip tickets to Oklahoma by way of Greyhound.
Maria had spent a lovely week with her niece; now she was heading home. At 35, this had been the biggest event in her life. She loved Oklahoma City; she loved the American people. But most of all, she loved the Greyhound bus.
It was so new and shiny and cleanâand so pleasantly cool inside. It had a bathroom onboard, which was just astonishing to her, plus TVs, movies, and radios. All of the passengers she'd met on the ride up to Oklahoma had been very nice to her, even when Muneo, her youngest at two years, got fussy. She liked it all so much, she was already dreaming about another trip to Oklahoma City, same time, next year, riding on the big silver Greyhound again.
It was six in the morning now and the bus was heading south on Route 27. Many of the passengers who got on in
Oklahoma City had got off at Amarillo. Since four that morning, it had been just Maria, her two sons, two elderly nuns, and the driver onboard. Maria had slept well in her seat during the night, as had her sons. A rest stop about an hour before had given them a chance to get breakfast, from a vending machine, another novelty Maria had never seen before. Still nearly 20 hours from home, she looked forward to spending the day watching the landscape of West Texas go by.
And Maria was doing just that when she first saw the strange airplane. It was funny that she noticed it at all. She was fascinated by the vast cotton fields, with their red dirt and huge circular watering systems. She was staring out the window, marveling at them, when, off in the distance, she saw the red and yellow airplane. It was very low; that's what caught her attention. It was out to the east, off to her left, flying very fast and coming right at the bus.
Maria had seen airplanes before, of course, but not one quite like this. Its bottom was shaped more like a boat than an airplane. Its wing looked like it was upside down, attached on top of the plane and not on the bottom, as she had always thought airplanes were built. It had two strange things hanging down from the end of this strange wing. They looked like two smaller boats themselves.
Why would an airplane look like a boat?
Maria thought.
She looked around the bus and wondered if anyone else could see it. But the nuns were asleep and so were her kids. The bus was just about the only vehicle on this part of the highway this early morning. She didn't think it was important enough to bother the driver about it, at least not at the moment.
But when Maria looked out the window again, the airplane had come up on them so fast, suddenly it looked like it was going to crash into them. It was so close now, Maria could see the face of the pilot bearing down on them.
At the very last moment, the plane veered wildly to the right and disappeared over the top of the bus. The noise of its two engines was deafening, though, enough to cause her
two sons to wake up crying. Maria blocked her ears. The nuns woke up startled, too.
Just as suddenly, the airplane reappeared. It had turned over and was now riding right alongside the bus, flying so low, it was almost even with them. Planes were supposed to be fast, Maria had always thought. How could this plane go slow enough to match their speed? She had no idea. Its wheels were down now and it looked like parts of its strange wings were lowered and its engines were smoking almost as if they, too, wanted to be moving faster. But the rest of it was a mystery to her.
Maria thought for a moment the plane was trying to land on the highway. Maybe that was it ⦠. But then she saw two small doors open on the side of its skin and two men appear behind them. They were dressed in black uniforms and were wearing helmets. They looked like soldiers, except they had beards and long hair and appeared to be disheveled. The plane was so close by now, Maria could clearly see their faces.
She could also see their guns.
This was frightening, because Maria knew about guns. And these were huge. They were hardly hunting rifles but more of the type she thought the military would use.
Again, all of this was happening so fast that just Maria and the bus driver were really seeing what was going onâand he had yet to react. The unreality of it all had overwhelmed him as it had Maria. She sensed he wasn't sure what to do, stop or keep going. The plane started shaking. It wasn't flying fast enough! The men inside crouched behind their weapons as if they were about to fire. She could see them taking aim ⦠.
But then something happened, Maria wasn't sure what, but the men behind the guns were suddenly distracted. The plane started shaking again, and with an even louder roar from its engines it was gone. Climbing quickly, it shot off down the highway.
But the strangeness was not over. In fact, it was just beginning.
Barely had Maria caught her breath when she saw the airplane coming again. This time it was heading in the other direction, flying close to another Greyhound bus, this one going north on Route 27.
The weird plane was doing the same thing, somehow matching its speed with that of the bus, the men hanging out of the open doorways now on the other side of the plane, their guns in full view. Maria saw all this in the blink of an eye as the two buses roared by each other, going in opposite directions on the highway.
At that point, the man driving Maria's bus regained his composure. He seemed intent to keep on driving when he looked into his rearview mirrorâand suddenly switched lanes. He did this with such speed, everything not tied down on the bus was suddenly airborne. They nearly tipped over, the bus swerved so violently. Maria was just able to grab her kids and hold on, thinking something had just happened to the driver, that maybe he'd been shot. But actually he'd just saved their lives. For not an instant later yet
another
Greyhound bus went by them, traveling in the passing lane as if they were standing still. It was going at least twice as fast as they, driving wildly down the highway. Had it hit them from behind, at that speed, they would have all been killed.
In the split second it took for this bus to go by, Maria could see its windows seemed to be darker than the bus she was on. And it looked like many people were aboard. But she was amazed, too. She didn't know America had so many Greyhound buses. They were everywhere!
Finally her bus driver pulled over to the side of the road. It was now obvious that something was very wrong here. Every vehicle on both sides of the highway had stopped by now, tooâexcept the speeding dark-windowed bus.
Suddenly the weird airplane appeared yet again. It swooped down on top of the speeding bus and, without any hesitation, the gunmen on board started firing at it. Maria's bus driver was on his cell phone now, yelling to someone about the incredible events they were witnessing. The person on the other end must have told the driver to get out of
the area as quickly as he could, because he threw the cell phone aside, put the bus back into gear, and started inching forward again.
But now there were many more cars stopped and pulled over on the highway, creating a small traffic jam at the crest of a rare hill. Maria's bus stopped, too, and this allowed them all to look out on the airplane and the speeding bus as they roared down the roadway, the gunners on the plane firing away without mercy.
Suddenly the speeding bus wasn't speeding anymore. It had slowed down so much, the plane had to accelerate or it would have crashed. Finally the plane pulled up and started circling the bus, which by now had swerved onto the median strip and slowed to a crawl.
“They've killed whoever was behind the wheel!” Maria's driver cried out.
Still the plane circled the bus, twin streams of red gunfire tearing up the vehicle in a most methodical fashion. Even with her untrained eye, Maria had to marvel at the person piloting this plane. And the more the men in the plane shot at it, the slower the bus went. Finally it just stopped altogether.
But the airplane dropped even lower now and continued firing into the bus. Suddenly came a huge explosion. Even though they were at least a half-mile away, Maria's bus was rocked by the resultant shock wave. The flash alone was blinding; it looked like a fireworks display was erupting from the back of the bus. Maria could see colors she never knew existed.
Although many people on both sides of the highway were now getting out of their cars to see these events, some even recording it all with their small video cameras, Maria's bus driver resumed driving again. They were about thousand feet away when they saw the airplane climb out of the fireball. It circled the devastated bus once more, then, with a roar of its engines, thundered away, heading west.
Not 30 seconds later, Maria's Greyhound passed the wreckage of the bus. It was totally engulfed in flames. Incredibly, there were some bodies sprawled on the ground
outside its front door. Several people onboard had tried to get out at the last moment, but the airplane's gunners had shot them down as well.
As they drove by, Maria got a fairly close look at these bodies. There were four of them; two were still on fire.
All were dressed like soccer players.