The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse (21 page)

Kiya's sixth grade class was tired, upset, and nearing its breaking point. Mrs. Crabtree was at her desk, trying to read her magazine from the light provided by the kerosene lamp. Several students were sleeping with heads on desk. Others were quietly chatting. Kiya rested her forehead against her folded arms at her desk. She wanted to sleep, but felt too anxious. What she really wanted to do was to leave. Everyone wanted to leave. They had been told to “wait for further instruction” and although nothing was spelled out, it was assumed that something very serious had happened. This foreboding sense of the danger that lurked beyond the school seemed pretty clear, even to the children. “Terrorists?” voices whispered throughout the classroom. “An actual terrorist attack?” This frightened several of the students. Then, as the time passed, the theories grew wilder. “Aliens? So it was aliens who shut off the power?” “I heard they don't want us to leave the school because there's zombies out there.” And so the rumors went. Mrs. Crabtree didn't know enough of anything to put an end to the speculation. She had to no real answers to provide. Their guess was as good as hers. 

In class, there had been a few incidents later in the day of kids crying, being disobedient, or asking to use the bathroom and then not returning to class. But, for the most part, things had died down, once Thomas Cassie and his team of fellow students were put in charge of “keeping order” among students by Mr. Wright. Officially they were referred to as “student monitors,” but Thomas preferred the term “enforcers.” He was the biggest kid in the sixth grade, held back last summer to repeat the sixth grade. It was ironic that Mrs. Crabtree's class had become more orderly once the worst students in the class—namely Thomas and his associates—were made into glorified hall monitors.

Other than Thomas, there was Gary, an angry kid with disheveled, unkempt hair. He was slightly out of shape for his age. Though he hadn't fully made it to “fat kid status” yet, he had gained a lot of weight over the summer (long hours of endless ling playing video games over the months had taken its toll). There was Anthony, one of the self-proclaimed, “fastest kids in school.” He was already something of a track star, and, like Kiya, was new to the school. Kiya sort of liked him, and he was nice enough by himself, but always a jerk when the other boys were present. Carlos rounded out the group, a kid with dark, serious eyes, a good dresser, but he always got in trouble for not paying attention in class. Mrs. Crabtree was less than enthusiastic about Mr. Wright's “student monitor.” Especially when he seemed to pick the most ill-behaved students in class for the task.

“Everyone likes to look at these kids and call them bad, but they're not bad. I'm providing them an opportunity to see their potential as leaders. Think of what it will do for their self-esteem,” Mr. Wright explained to her out in the hall, only a few hours earlier. She had questioned the merit of students bossing the others around, especially in such a potentially volatile atmosphere. Maintaining discipline and order was not and should not be the responsibility of the students, she explained. Besides
, she
was the teacher, and she could not have her students thinking they were above her authority. “You needn't worry, Mrs. Crabtree. Your authority is beyond question. The students answer to you. And the student monitors answer to me.”

“You see, that's precisely the problem. Your monitors won't listen to me,” she said.

“Of course they will,” he answered with a quick pivot towards his office. As his footsteps clicked down the hall, Mrs. Crabtree heard a faint gunshot from outside that shook her to the core. Its origins sounded near the front gate. She quickly marched back to her classroom. “I heard a gunshot,” Shelly Ackerman said. “Is everyone okay?” Mrs. Crabtree asked.

“I want to go home!” a boy said in an exhausted tone. “Me too!” Erika, the red-headed girl, said pounding on her desk. “Soon, children, soon,” Mrs. Crabtree said while taking a seat at her desk. She had nearly run out of words to comfort them or excuses of why they had to remain in the classroom.  She felt that she was failing them. Something wasn't right about any of this. Suddenly, the classroom door swung open revealing Thomas and his monitor team. 

“Alright you pukes, Mr. Wright wants everyone to gather in the gym,” Thomas said.

“Thomas, watch your language! You're not to refer to any of the students as—that word,” Mrs. Crabtree said.

“Sheesh, I was only kidding. But everyone has to move into the gym now, principal's orders,” Thomas continued.

Kiya raised her head from the desk. It was pure night outside. It was dark in the room, even with two kerosene lamps placed in the front and back of the classroom. She felt relief that they were finally leaving the classroom. But the gym didn't sound like a fun place to be. She wondered how long it was going to be before all the students got sick of this. She needed to call her mom, but the phone lines weren't working. For all she knew her mom could be outside the school waiting for her. The instant the thought of her mother hit, she felt hopeful. She had a plan after all. She needed to escape.

“Why are we moving into to the gym? What did Mr. Wright tell you?” Mrs. Crabtree asked Thomas.

“Is the whole school going to be there?” Shelly Ackerman asked.

“Even the eighth graders?” Erika, the red-headed girl added, feigning terror.

“That's enough, Erika. Where is Mr. Wright, Thomas?” Mrs. Crabtree asked, standing up from her desk.

“He's having a meeting or something. Each school grade is like, in a different part of the school. We have these cot things to sleep on, and there's going to be food—”

“Cots!” Mrs. Crabtree said with slight outburst. “Is he suggesting that we sleep here tonight?”

“I don't know, Mrs. Crabtree, we have our instructions,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes. Mrs. Crabtree grabbed Thomas by the arm and took him outside. The door slammed shut. “Ooooooo,” the class said in unison.

Kiya looked around her classroom, plotting. She needed to escape, that much was clear. She had a gut feeling that she couldn't explain. Kiya didn't think that she could do it alone, but if she involved a large group they would bring unwanted attention. She scanned the classroom searching for an accomplice. In front of her, Mark Nelson, the kid she couldn't stand, would probably be of little help. Plus he annoyed her. Shelly Ackerman seemed nice enough. And smart. But she was kind of a “teacher's pet,” and Kiya didn't know if she could fully trust her. There was Erika, the red-headed girl. She always spoke her mind, which Kiya liked, but her absence might send a red flag to the teacher. There was also Bobby Ramer, Jeff Springer, Jill Williams, Matt Buller, Fred Vaquez, Amber Greene, Luke Ardorno, Rachel Moss, Jesse Steinbeck, and one kid hadn't said a word in class yet. His name was Oliver, but Kiya didn't know that. Despite his strangeness and silence, Kiya could somewhat relate to him. She had barely said a word in class herself. And it's not like she had made any friends yet. But he was “weird,” and she was normal. At least that's what she told herself.

“Let me tell you something right now, Thomas Cassise. No one tells my class what to do except me, understand?” an enraged Mrs. Crabtree said.

“Yes, I understand, but—”

“There are no buts. Now I don't know what Mr. Wright has told you, but I want you and your
group
to take your seats in class while I go talk to the principal.”

“We were only doing what he told us to. He said there would be food and beds and stuff. Everyone is tired and hungry. We can't just sit in that classroom all night.”

“That's not for you to be concerned about. You, Anthony, Gary, and Carlos take your seats. You can watch the class for a moment while I'm gone,” Mrs. Crabtree said.

“Okay, but if we don't move to the gym soon, Mr. Wright isn't going to be happy,” Thomas said.

“Well, we certainly don't want to upset him, do we?” Mrs. Crabtree said walking away. “I'll be back in ten minutes,” she continued.

Thomas watched her walk down the hall towards Mr. Wright's office. She moved passed open classroom doors, where children were lining up to march to their respective areas. Thomas turned and went back to the classroom.

“Shelly,” Kiya called out. From her desk, she could see only Shelly's back, and wasn't sure if she was sleeping or ignoring her. Kiya called out again, causing Shelly to turn around. “Hey, can I talk to you?” she asked.  The door to the class opened. Thomas entered and approached his fellow “enforcers.” “Mrs. Crabtree went to talk to the principal. We're in charge while she's gone,” he said. The gang nodded and turned to the class, surveying them like secret service men.  Kiya got up from her seat to talk to Shelly, causing instant notice from Thomas.

“Hey, get back in your seat,” he said.

Kiya froze and looked up. The whole class was watching her. “I have to use the bathroom,” she said. It was the first thing that came to her mind. She glared at Shelly like she was trying to send her a message. Kiya hoped that a glance and a head nod would be a clear signal.

“No deal. No one leaves the classroom until Mrs. Crabtree returns,” Thomas continued. He approached Mrs. Crabtree's desk and sat at her seat.

“Get bent, Tommy,” Shelly said as she stood. “If we have to use the bathroom, you can't stop us.”

Thomas laughed. “Go ahead and try us,” he said.

Shelly walked over to Kiya and took her by the arm. They both walked together towards the door. Thomas nodded at Anthony who then blocked the door. “Move,” Shelly said.

Anthony crossed his arms, not responding. “Okay, you ask for it,” she added. In one quick flash, she sucker punched Anthony in the stomach. He grunted and moved out of the way. “You crazy bitch!” he said. The other boys, Carlos and Greg, moved to the door in Anthony's place. Shelly gave them a look that asked for more. She was ready to punch someone.  Thomas held his hand in the air. “Wait,” he commanded. “Let them go, one at a time.” Kiya gave Shelly a concerned look of disapproval. Shelly turned to face Thomas.

“We both have to go. It's...it's personal,” she said.

“What do you mean personal?” Thomas asked.

“I mean girl stuff. Like, girl
issues
,” she said.

Thomas thought to himself for a moment. Shelly was sure that he wouldn’t know any better. “Oh gross,” Thomas said. “Let 'em go. But you have five minutes!”

“Whatever,” Shelly said pushing the other boys out of the way.

Suddenly Erika jumped up to join Shelly and Kiya. “I have to go too!” 

“Oh come on!” Thomas said.

Erika ran to the other girls as they left the bathroom. Thomas stood up as the door shut. “That's it, no one else can leave until they get back!” he said to the class in his best authoritative tone. 

With Kiya leading, they ran down the hall to the girl's bathroom. They passed a long line of students from the three other sixth grade classes on their way to the gym. One teacher, Mrs. Dollard—a large woman with a squished face, and small eyes beneath her glasses—watched the girls suspiciously. The girls were relieved as they made it to the bathroom without a word from any of teachers. Kiya pushed the swinging door open as they scurried inside. It was nearly pitch black in the bathroom. A small window provided a little night time light from outside, but the girls had to feel around. Erika pulled a cigarette lighter from her pocket and lit it.

“How'd you get that?” Shelly asked.

“Stole it from my dad. Pretty cool huh,” Erika said.

“Okay, what is it? And why are we running?” Shelly asked turning to Kiya immediately.

“I think it's cool. We're like secret agents of the apocalypse,” Erika said.

“Apocalypse?” Shelly asked.

“I don't know, just a word I heard the other day,” Erika answered.

“I asked you to come with me, Shelly, because I wanted to talk to you,” Kiya said. She suddenly stopped speaking and searched the stalls for the presence of any other kids. The coast was clear. Kiya continued, “I have a bad feeling about this. All of this.”

“Yeah, it sucks. But they're going to have to let us go soon,” Shelly said.

“It's not like they can just keep us here forever,” Erika added.

“I don't know what's going on, but I say we escape,” Kiya said.

The two girls looked at her, then to each other. “Um. How are you going to do that?” Shelly asked.

“We find a way out,” Kiya said.

“But they'll expel us if we get caught,” Shelly responded.

“You really believe that?” Kiya asked.

“Ow!” Erika shouted. She had held onto the lighter for too long, and the flame had burnt her thumb. The lighter went out, and with it, the bathroom went dark. The girls continued their conversation.

“Of course I believe it. I've had straight-As the past three years, and I'm not going to risk it,” Shelly said with a hint of snobbery.

“I'll help you, Kiya,” Erika said placing her hand on Kiya's shoulder. 

“You both are crazy,” Shelly said.

“You're right,” Erika responded. “It's too bad we're going to have to kill you now because you heard of our secret plan.”

Erika moved to Shelly with her hands out, as if going for her neck. “Stop it!” Shelly yelled. Erika put her hands down. “Okay, okay. Chill,” she said back.

“We have to do something. Staying here is bad. Thomas and the others are bossing us around now because the principal said they could. I'm sick of this and I want to go home,” Kiya said.

“Me too!” Erika said.

Both girls looked to Shelly. “So, 'miss perfect,' are you in or are you out?” Erika asked.

Shelly sighed. “I want to go home, but I don't want to get into trouble. My mom would kill me.”

“Your mom is probably right outside of the school now waiting for you. Just like mine,” Kiya said.

“Think about that, brainiac,” Erika said.

“Shut up, Erika!” Shelly shouted.

“Shhhh. Footsteps,” Kiya said. The girls went silent as the unmistakable sound of adult footsteps passed the bathroom. Once out of range, Kiya continued, “When they take us to the gym, as long as we stick together we can run off and barely be noticed. By the time anyone
really
notices we'll be gone.”