The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse Page 10

“Do you play online?” Mark asked.

  “No,” Kiya said.

  “Why not?” Mark asked.

  Kiya looked up. “I don't know. I just don't”

  “Well you should. It's awesome. I love Dragon Slayer. I'm like the best player in the world.”

  “In the world?” she asked, skeptical.

  “Yeah, in the history of Dragon Slayer in the world.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  “Yeah, you're right, I'm not,” Mark admitted.

  “So why did you say you were?” Kiya asked.

  “Because I'm pretty good, but not that good, you know? Someday I could be though.”

  “I'm sure you could,” Kiya said.

  The kids in the back of the classroom were growing more restless. A group of boys, led by Thomas Cassie—the top troublemaker in class—were not very happy about staying after. “Yo, Mrs. Crabtree. School's over. Can we leave yet? Come on!”

  “I'm so hungry that I just ate my own arm. Now I have no arm left!” Erika, the red-headed girl in the back, shouted. She concealed her right arm in her sweater while waving the empty long-sleeve around.

  Mrs. Crabtree looked up from her desk and placed her magazine to the side. “Enough, Erika. I'm not falling for it. Thomas, we've been over this. We have to wait until we get properly released.”

  Thomas stood up. “What would they do if we just got up and walked out right now? School's over, you understand? We don't have to be here any longer,” he said.

  “Take your seat now, Thomas. This is your final warning,” Mrs. Crabtree said.

  “Screw this!” Thomas shouted, “I want to go home!”

  Mrs. Crabtree stood up in haste and placed her palms on her desk. “Thomas Cassie, I'm not going to tell you again to take your seat!”

  The class had silenced by now. All attention shifted to this argument between student and teacher. Kiya felt uncomfortable and embarrassed for both Thomas and Mrs. Crabtree. Thomas didn't appear to be budging. He felt the eyes of all students on him, but he was also traveling into uncharted territory. How far could he take it?

  “You want to know what I think, Mrs. Crabtree?” he asked.

  “What is it, Thomas?” Mrs. Crabtree asked back.

  He was ready to take it to the next level. He could say, “You're a stupid bitch!” or something of that caliber, but then he had to be prepared to walk out of that classroom for good.

  Before Thomas could make his next move, however, Mr. Wright entered the classroom with the Vice Principal. Thomas slinked back into his chair. He wasn't going to win this battle right now.

  “Hello, Mrs. Crabtree,” Mr. Wright said, “I hope the class is behaving and that everything is going well.”

  “They have been excellent, Mr. Wright. I'm sure everyone is ready to go home. It's been a long day,” Mrs. Crabtree answered.

  Mr. Wright glanced down at the carpet below, shuffling his foot on its surface. “I'm glad to hear that.” He looked to the classroom as a whole, and continued, “Thank you so much for being good during this difficult time. You've been excellent students so far.” Mr. Wright looked over to his assistant. “Now, you all know our Vice Principal, Ms. Foley.” Ms. Foley nodded to the class. “She and I have been working tirelessly to ensure that this school is secure and that you are safe. And at this point, we're well aware that school normally ends at this time, and that you're expecting to go home.” The class was hanging on each word, waiting for the moment when he would say they could finally leave.

  “This—this is not easy. These are not easy times. But the school is still on lockdown, meaning that, at this point, no one can enter the school, and no one can leave it. We hope this changes soon, but all I ask for is just a little more patience from each one of you. Be the responsible students I know that you can be.”

  For Mrs. Crabtree, it was like a shot in the gut. She couldn't handle much more of this. She wanted to demand answers from Mr. Wright there in front of the entire class. Her inability to speak up to Mr. Wright was a weakness similar to her inability to speak up to anyone her entire life. Her husband, Walter, came to mind. For him, they were working towards his career. For starters, she moved to Pittsburgh to teach at a middle school so he could advance at Penn State as director of graduate studies. And who was off at some writer’s conference right now? Him, not her.

  When it came time to call Mr. Wright out, Mrs. Crabtree hesitated. “It wouldn't be wise or professional,” she thought. “And I don't want to startle the students.” Thomas had backed-off earlier, but once he realized what Mr. Wright was saying, he had heard enough.

  “You trying to say that we can't leave yet?” he shouted.

  Mr. Wright, a tad surprised at the directness of the question, answered. “What I'm saying is that conditions are not safe enough for us to open the school yet.”

  “What is not safe? This is a bunch of crap. I'm leaving! Let's go guys!” Thomas called out.

  Grumbles of support followed along with nods from several of the students.

  “Thomas Cassie, stop it right now,” Mrs. Crabtree demanded.

  “That's okay, Mrs. Crabtree. Thomas, I'd like you to come with me,” Mr. Wright said.

  “Oooooo,” the class called in unison.

  “Calm down, class. It's not like that. I just want to have a talk,” he added.

  Thomas stood up from his chair and looked to the nearby open window.

  “What if I were to just slip out the window, huh? You going to expel me then? You know what, I don't care. Go ahead and do it. I hope I never have to come back to this school again!”

  Mr. Wright held his hand up in calming manner. “No one is going to expel anyone and you're not in any trouble. I just want you to come to my office to talk.”

  The class remained silence. “Think I'll take my chances out the window,” Thomas said.

  “You go out that window, and then what? You'll never get over the walls. We’ll catch you and you’ll back where you started.”

  “Good!” Thomas shouted.

  “Thomas, listen, please. There's no reason it has to come to that,” Mr. Wright said.

  Thomas looked out to the window then back to Mr. Wright and Ms. Foley. Mrs. Foley was young. Younger than Mrs. Crabtree. She was slightly attractive, a face of too much bronze powder, bright, blue eyes, and brown hair tied back in a bun. Whatever it was, her smile seemed to have an effect on Thomas when their eyes met. “Okay, I'll go,” Thomas said.

  “Okay, class. Just sit tight for a little while longer and we promise to get you home soon. We'll be making our rounds again later.” With that, Mr. Wright waved to the class and exited the room with Thomas and Ms. Foley.

  Mrs. Crabtree was beside herself and couldn't believe that Mr. Wright was leaving without giving them a definitive answer about anything. She marched towards to the door and followed him outside. Cautious murmurs filled the classroom between the students. Utter confusion was in the air.

  “Mr. Wright, you can't possibly expect us to contain these students in the classroom for the entire day. They need to eat. They need to get out. And most importantly, they need to go home,” Mrs. Crabtree said.

  Mr. Wright put his hand up as to dismiss her. “I'm very aware of the situation, thank you. Our main priority is to keep our students safe.”

  “How much longer?” Mrs. Crabtree asked in a no-nonsense manner.

  “As long as it takes!” Mr. Wright then got uncomfortably close into Mrs. Crabtree's face. “Do you know what's going on out there? I mean, do you really know? It's pure pandemonium. Cars stopped along the highway for miles. Angry mobs of people moving about. If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were looking at the end of days.”

  “Don't be ridiculous.” Mrs. Crabtree said, taking a careful step back.

  “You don't believe me, go to the top of the north tower and look for yourself,” he said.

  “Maybe I will, but you shouldn’t be saying things like that in front of the students,” Mrs. Crabtree said
, obviously referring to Thomas, standing nearby.

  “Duly noted, Mrs. Crabtree, now please attend to your class. I'll update you within the hour.”

  Mr. Wright immediately turned away from Mrs. Crabtree and walked down the hallway to his office. His sleek shoes echoed down the tile floor. Behind him followed Ms. Foley and Thomas. Mrs. Crabtree turned back to her classroom more confused than before.

  Sun Crest Middle School didn't turn into a virtual security prison overnight. The transition from a moderately secure “safe zone” into a high security compound followed a slew of national school shootings. More so than usual. Many schools implemented extreme measures to thwart such random shootings. Sun Crest's answer to the solution was to “contain” the school from possible threats. There was not a single gate or hallway in the school—inside or out—that could be entered without detecting a firearm or explosive on an individual. The measures were costly, but were eventually approved. This campaign was spearheaded largely by Mr. Wright. Relatively new to the area, he was a private man who—as principal—made several bold changes to the school in his short tenure as school principle so far.

  Mr. Wright opened his office door and held it open for Mrs. Foley and Thomas to enter. “After you.” he said. “Have a seat, please.” In the corner was a large oak desk with stacks and stacks of paper work placed neatly on top. In the front of the desk sat two wooden chairs with vinyl padding, the best that office funds could buy. In the middle of the office was a large circular rug bearing a sun rising over a valley, the symbol of Sun Crest Middle School. Near his desk sat a large bookshelf, filled to the brim with technical books. At the other end of the office was a small leather couch and table. Educator magazines littered the table, such as “The Principal Quarterly” and “Educators Monthly.” The first thing that Tobias noticed was the maps on the wall. Each side of the wall was adorned with a large map. One map was of Pennsylvania, the other of Pittsburgh, and then a detailed map of the entire school.

  Thomas sat. Ms. Foley circled the room. Mr. Wright went to his desk and opened the drawers searching. He looked up to Ms. Foley, “Please....sit,” he said.

  “What's going on Donald? I've been silent long enough,” she said.

  “Mary, please!” Mr. Wright cried, pointing at Thomas.

  “Oh who cares about the kid, quit stonewalling me,” Ms. Foley said.

  Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Mr. Wright slammed the desk drawer shut. “Give me a minute to explain! That's why I wanted you to sit.”

  Ms. Foley pulled her chair out slightly and sat. “I'm sitting now, Happy?” she asked.

  Mr. Wright bent over behind his desk, and reemerged holding a small kerosene lamp. He placed it on his desk carefully and continued, “This is a kerosene lamp. As you may know, it doesn't run on electricity. So how does it work?”

  Thomas looked up. Mr. Wright was eyeing him intently.

  “Um. By kerosene,” he answered.

  “Yes, excellent, by kerosene. In a few hours, it will be dark outside. Soon it will get very dark in this office. But as long as I have my trusty kerosene lamp here, we'll have a light source.”

  Mr. Wright turned the small key lever on the lamp, illuminating the flame. “Ah, the miracle of fire,” he said. “Thomas, Ms. Foley, let me get to the point. There are several more lamps where this came from. In fact, an entire basement, a bunker if you will, of food, supplies, and all the basic necessities stocked ten feet below the school. With my oversight, it was constructed as safe room should the school come under attack. Now the time has come where we may have to use all of the collective resources.”

  “What are you getting at, Donald?” Ms. Foley asked.

  “I'm talking about a calamity, a societal collapse right outside our gates. True, our power has been taken out, but my transistor radio in the bunker still works. I've been hearing all sorts of reports. I'll tell you now, it's not good.”

  “I want to go home,” Thomas said.

  “Thomas, listen to me. I brought you here for a reason.” Mr. Wright leaned in closely and clasped his hands. “I have a job for you. But I have to be straight with you before we get to business. No one is leaving this school today. We're ten times safer here than we are out there, trust me. This school is a refuge. A refuge away from a world gone mad.”

  Ms. Foley gasped. “You can't keep the entire school here all day. On what authority?” she asked.

  “I'm surprised in you, Ms. Foley. We can do what is necessary to keep the students safe, which includes what we're doing now and what we will be doing for days to come. Now I've done some pretty heavy research, and everything I'm proposing falls completely in-line with state and federal regulations in the event of a national emergency. We have to—no—are required to take charge”

  “Have you spoken with the superintendent about any of this? The school board? The mayor?” Ms. Foley asked.

  “And how would you propose I do that? Fly on my magic carpet to the mayor's office? The power doesn't work. Our phones don't work. Our computers don't work. Automobiles don't work. This is it. What we do now determines the future. That's why we keep the children here, keep them safe, thus preserving the future.” Mr. Wright's passion on the matter baffled Thomas and Ms. Foley. They looked at him like he had two antennas growing out of his head.

  “That is why I need you, Thomas. The other students listen to you. They respect you. I need an enforcer, if you will. Someone who can keep charge among the ranks. You do this for me, I'll make sure you're taken care of.”

  “I don't know, Mr. Wright,” Thomas replied.

  “It's only temporary, I assure you. I want to make you a security monitor for the entire sixth grade. You can choose your own team from the other students. Then you will enforce law and order at the classroom level.”

  “I'm not the police type—”

  “You don't have to be. All I need you to do is carry out what I ask. If you do this, I'll move you up a grade. I know how embarrassing it must be to have been held back. We can change that for the good.”

  “Mr. Wright!” Ms. Foley said, clearly appalled.

  “Hear me out, both of you. Thomas, I need you to deal with the sixth graders. Mrs. Foley, I need you to deal with the other teachers.”

  “What about the other grades, the other students?” she asked.

  “I’m talking with them one class at a time. One grade at a time.”

  “If you tell the other kids they can't go home there's going to be trouble,” Thomas said.

  Mr. Wright leaned in closer. “I have a security team at all towers, covering the entire perimeter of the school. No one is going anywhere. Whether they like it or not, we're staying. The question is, do you want to be just one of the other students, or do want to be someone in charge of the situation?”

  Thomas thought to himself quietly for a moment.

  “And, as an additional show of faith, I'll take you in the bunker where you can pick out anything you want,” Mr. Wright added.

  Thomas scratched his chin. “Okay, okay I'll do it.”

  Mr. Wright smiled and then looked to Ms. Foley.

  “I can talk to the teachers, but I need to know exactly what's going on,” she said.

  “That's fine. I'll tell you everything you need to know,” Mr. Wright said.

  Chapter 6: Tobias and Brian: Still Lost

  Tobias and Brian were lost; there was no doubt about that. Their second encounter with the junk car in the woods indicated such. Brian felt intensely dehydrated by the minute. Whenever he swallowed, his throat felt drier than before. Like something pulled on the inside of his throat drying it further. Not even saliva could help. His mouth was an arid wasteland. He would kill for a bottle of water. He would kill Tobias for a bottle of water, if need be. He wanted to kill Tobias anyway for leading them into this nightmare, and the bottle of water would be a bonus.

  “Let's not panic,” Tobias said, “We just go back the way we came, then I'm sure we'll be on track to my house.�
�

  “You just don't get it,” Brian said. “It will be dark soon and we have no idea where we’re going.”

  “We're bound to come across a house or something soon. How hard could it be?”

  “Do you see a house anywhere around here?” Brian asked extending his arms.

  “Chill, man. I'll figure something out,” Tobias said.

  “Ah, screw this,” Brian said. He walked aimlessly away from Tobias then stood in the middle of the forest and yelled, “Help us! Help us, we're lost!”

  Tobias ran over to Brian and grabbed him. “Stop it! You want that one crazy dude to track us down?”

  Brian pushed himself away from Tobias and walked away. “Let's just go back the way we came. Let's go back to the school.”

  “Are you crazy?” Tobias asked?

  “Yep. I'm out of my mind. I'm going back to the school before it gets too dark. You can stay out here kicking pine cones all night if you want,” Brian said walking farther away from Tobias.

  “Come on, man. You have no idea where you're going,” Tobias shouted.

  “Yeah I do, I'll follow the path back to the school,” Brian said, his voice drowning out in the distance.

  “What path? Brian! Hey, don't be like this, man. Come back!” Tobias wiped his sweaty forehead, and swatted the brown hair out of his eyes, like he did regularly, matting his hair to the side. His parents called it a nervous habit, which he thought stupid. Only this time he was more nervous than he had been in recent memory. The woods were an intimidating place to be alone. Tobias glanced at the junk car, then the surrounding woods of looming Red Pine and Maple Trees. The sun had lowered to the ground as the moon was coming into sight. “Brian!” Tobias yelled. “Brian, wait up!” He chased after Brian like a lost puppy. Even though Brian was no longer in sight.

  Brian heard the calls of Tobias from a distance behind him. He rolled his eyes. Though it wasn't too surprising that Tobias would give-in and follow him, Brian was bluffing slightly. Of course he didn't actually want to leave his friend alone in the woods, but he also felt it could teach him a lesson. Brian could just as easily stopped and let Tobias catch up with him, but if he was going to make Tobias do one thing, it would be to have to run after him. That was an even trade, Brian thought.