The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse (13 page)

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.

Tobias could make Brian out through the trees. This quickened his pace. “Brian!” he shouted. “Hey man, wait up!” But there was no stopping Brian. He was moving with quick and frustrated determination.  Tobias was nearly sprinting at this point, and was gaining closer. “Brian!” he shouted. Brian stopped and turned around. “What?” he yelled.

“Wait—” and before Tobias could finish, he tripped over a large branch on the ground—and in one spectacular stumble, fell to the ground and rolled down a small hill.  

“Oh, come on!” Brian thought. Brian waited and waited, but Tobias didn't get up. “Okay, get up, Tobias,” he said. He walked over to the bottom of the hill where Tobias fell. “Hey?” Brian asked. “You okay?” Tobias was lying on the dirt of leaves and sticks, twisted in agony.

“My leg,” he said, “I think it's broken.”

“Get up, man. You're fine,” Brian said.

Tobias face was dark red. His teeth were clenched. His T-shirt and jeans were covered in leaves. Brian had second thoughts about Tobias's state. Maybe he really was injured. Brian held his hand out.

“Here, let me help up,” he said.

Tobias smacked his hand away. “I already tried to get up, you asshole. My leg is messed up. I can't move,” Tobias said with spit shooting from his mouth.  

Brian grabbed Tobias arm with a tight grip. “Here, let's just try. I'm going to pull you up. Let's do it.”

“No!” Tobias shouted.