Alone No More (2 page)

“Mr. Dalembert, I’m sorry sir. I just... It’s just…” He replied without looking up an inch from his phone. It was a very expensive phone. Internet, email, super high def camera, you name it, it did it. At least Pete couldn’t be picked on for having second rate gadgets.

“Peter it’s just that you lost a point off your grade. I expected better of you, really.” Mr. Dalembert took out his dreaded red pen and marked down a check in his grade book. Everyone knew it was next to Peter’s name.

“I think you should turn on the TV Mr. Dalembert. Something serious is happening.” Pete finally looked up, his young, awkward expression showing a little confusion, and a little fear. Everyone else in the classroom was looking back and forth between the student and teacher, waiting to see how the weird power struggle played out. Something in Pete’s face must’ve been sincere though, because after a few seconds of looking at him, Mr. Dalembert went over to the TV that hung suspended in the corner of the classroom, and he turned it on with the remote.

Kim and Deb exchanged slightly excited glances at one another. When the television went on, it meant study stopped abruptly, and that meant a break from the droning of numbers and formulas.

“Go to one of the news networks,” Pete finally sat his phone down on the desk and started walking slowly to the front of the classroom. He looked almost afraid of what the TV might show. Kids from the back of the classroom started to get up, joining Pete slowly in the front, trying to get a good look at whatever it was that had him spooked.

The teacher flipped through a few dozen stations before arriving at one of the more reputable news networks. They were on commercial though, and Mr. Dalembert gave a disappointed look at Pete. “Peter if whatever it is that’s got you worried were serious, they would not go to commercial. This had better be good mister.” He returned his gaze to the television after his dressing down of the kid.

“It will be. Well, I don’t think it’ll be good, but I think it’s legitimate.” Pete never took his eyes off the screen.

After a few minutes of incessant commercial rambling about various medications that apparently everyone should know they needed, the female anchor finally appeared again, and Pete leaned in to hear. She talked for several second with the caption
Worldwide Murders
over her shoulder, and a picture of police lights flashing. The volume was too low though, and a chorus of “turn it up” sprouted. Mr. Dalembert obliged them after fumbling with the remote for a second. Eventually the anchor’s voice carried over the growing din in the classroom, and everyone fell silent to listen. The television had won.

“Reports are mixed, and we are trying to verify them at this hour, but what we can tell you is that multiple of our bureaus are saying that there has been a seemingly random, dramatic spike in personal attacks all across the world. We are hearing that the majority of these attacks appear to be assaults committed by either a drugged, or ill group of citizens. They are characterized by muted flesh tones, a general appearance of disorientation, and an immediate need to attack others, including animals. Now we aren’t sure exactly what of those reports is fully true or not, but that’s what’s coming in from over 20 of our bureaus across the world, including here in the United States.” As she talked the image over her shoulder changed to a collage of photographs. Each picture was a snapshot of people wandering, covered in blood, wounded, injured, and scared. The pictures were of white people, black people, Asian people, all people. Some of the pictures even showed the purported attackers. They were blank faced, covered in dried blood, walking as if on autopilot. In almost every shot they were moving directly towards the person taking the shot. Many of these attackers snapped their jaws closed repeatedly, as if they were trying to take bites out of their intended victims long before they reached them. It made for a very unsettling collection of images.

Pete swallowed hard, and looked around the classroom before opening his mouth, “those are zombies.”

The entirety of the classroom erupted in nervous laughter at him, and his ridiculous statement. Mr. Dalembert turned the volume on the television down as the class slowly winded down its response to Pete. The teacher just shook his head, finally clicking the television off.

“Everyone back to their seats please.” Mr. Dalembert put the remote away in his desk and continued to laugh under his breath, still shaking his head in amusement. The class made their way slowly back to their chairs as they all took turns making fun of poor Pete. All of the mockery, all the ridicule was lost on him though. He pleaded the seriousness of the matter to everyone, even the people who were making fun of him to his face. Deb and Kim were about to stand up and take Pete’s side, if only to prevent him from becoming a homicidal classmate later when Mr. Dalembert broke in.

“Enough.” His tone said everything that needed to be said. The class fell silent as he slowly raised the dreaded red pen again. He waited a full ten seconds before he put the cap back on it, and sat it down on his desk. “Peter, thank you for bringing this odd situation to our attention. However, we still have an hour of calculus left this morning, and there have been no reports of anything strange happening near here that I am aware of. Thus, our calculations go on.” He snickered at his own bad joke as he turned to the marker board behind him.

“Mr. Dalembert, if we wait an hour, it might be too late for us.” Pete said in a deadpan voice from his seat at the back of the classroom. Kim and Deb both looked at him at the same time. He looked serious, and scared. Really scared.

That scared the girls very much.

*****

It wasn’t until the girl’s second period class that they started to notice that something was very, very wrong on campus. The school sounded a special alarm that only happened once in a blue moon. All the classroom doors were shut, and all the windows closed. Curtains were drawn down to obstruct the view into, and out of each room, and the teachers all changed their demeanors. They seemed more nervous, more withdrawn and cautious. They kept teaching, but many of them did so keeping their classroom doors in front of them. The school called it a “code blue” situation. The kids called it “lockdown.” It had happened just once earlier around Christmas time when a student brought a handgun onto campus.

During the rest of second period there were more short alarms sounded. Most of them neither girl knew anything about. From where they were sitting, they could see people running around outside. Some were arguing, some getting aggressive, many yelling and screaming. Over what, they didn’t know. Deb and Kim could almost feel the sanity slowly slipping away from the world as things progressively got weirder. When the period bell rang, they were escorted by staff to their next classrooms. 

It was 3rd period, sometime around 1:30 in the afternoon when they started to see the cars come for kids. At first it was just one or two, but within half an hour, there was no place to park on campus. 

It wasn’t long after the kids started to leave that Kim’s cell phone buzzed in her trendy little purse. She was afraid her current teacher would notice. Dr. Potter was the biggest teacher on campus, easily 300 pounds and growing one granola bar at a time. She knew he was quick to point out and ridicule a bad student, and she didn’t want to be the one who got his wrath. She fished it out and kept it below the edge of her desk, out of Dr. Potter’s eyes. He didn’t have a red pen rule, but he was already steaming at having to stop two straight period’s worth of classes so much over what he deemed to be “foolishness.” She didn’t want to risk the big man’s ire.

It was a text message from her mother.

Kim, there is some very weird stuff going on. We are on our way to get you, but we won’t be there until at least 8pm.

Okay. Should I be worried?
She texted back quickly.

If you are on campus, you are probably fine. Your father is scared though. The hospital tried to call him in to help, but he decided to come get you first. He has his bat Kim.
Her mother wrote back.

Wow. The bat. The same bat he chased Darren off the porch with last summer? Lol.

Lol Yeah. Same bat. He’s scared babe. So am I. Stay safe. Lock yourself inside if you see sick people, or people fighting. This thing seems to be spreading. See you in a few hours, love u.

Kim thought about it for a second then sent the final text back:
luv u 2.

Kim slipped her phone discreetly back into her purse and looked over at Deb. Deb had been watching the whole time, and when they finally looked at each other, she raised her eyebrows, questioning Kim what was up. Kim leaned over subtly and whispered to her, “My mom and dad are on their way. Guess this is pretty bad.” Deb grimaced and made a lemon face in response.

During fourth period, at about 3:30 pm or so, Dr. Potter their classics professor had to stop class half a dozen additional times to excuse a student to leave. Both Deb and Kim started to get that grinding, nagging pang deep down in their stomachs. The feeling of dread. Kim had the same feeling years ago when her mom sat the family down, and told them about her breast cancer. She knew something was wrong then, and she knew something was seriously wrong now. At least her mom had beaten the cancer. Hopefully this would end the same way too.

Deb looked fully concerned for the first time since watching Pete make his prophetic style announcement in first period. She went for her own purse and got her phone out. Kim knew she’d be trying to track down what her parents were doing. Deb’s parents lived fairly nearby, only an hour or so away by car. She might be able to go home soon and figure out what was happening from there. It was then that Kim realized that almost everyone else in the classroom was on their cell phones as well as her friend. Each kid was locked on to the text message they were sending, and in the front of the classroom Dr. Potter stood, fists planted firmly on his wide hips, watching in frustration. She watched him take the whole scene in for some time, but they were both interrupted when the class phone rang on the wall. Everyone stopped typing in unison as he walked over and answered it. After a few seconds of listening, he nodded and hung it up again.

“Mike, Sarah, Christian, and Emma, you are summoned to the admissions building. I bid you good day.” He made a grandiose gesture as he pulled the classroom doors open. The four students gathered their things quickly, and left the room almost at a sprint. Dr. Potter closed the door, and turned to address his class again. He stopped just short of saying something, hand still resting on the door handle, when he pulled the door open again.

“Class is dismissed. I suggest you return to your dorms or go to the staff administration buildings to consult your advisors as to what to do. I will not teach three students.” He made another grandiose, mocking bowing motion, beckoning the three remaining students. Kim, Deb, and Kyle, the three teens left, exchanged one last set of glances, and took off out the door. As they went down the hall they could hear yelling coming from Mrs. Goodell’s room across the hall. It sounded heated. Kim and Deb slowed, trying to listen, but it was clear it was not going to work. There were too many voices coming from the inside to pick anything out. The two of them turned and headed down the school house steps as fast as they could go. For once, Kim and Deb were glad they didn’t wear heels.

Kim and Deb went out the glass doors of the school building just as they were shutting from when Kyle blew through them. He didn’t wait one moment for them. Both girls gave him dirty looks as he rounded the sidewalk heading to the boy’s upper class dorm, Dormitory C.

Deb spoke first as they came to a stop on the sidewalk in front of the school, “So I am totally and completely fucking confused here.” She pulled out her phone and dialed it once more as she finished her sentence.

Kim sighed once deeply and took in the summer sunshine. She opened her eyes with a start when she heard a loud crunching noise coming from down the street. They both looked at the source of the noise, and saw two cars locked together in a fairly good fender bender. The cars were damaged pretty good, but no one looked hurt. The girls went back to their conversation after having their “people are such dumbasses” look.

“Me too. My mom and dad are on their way but won’t be here for at least 7 or 8 hours. You get a hold of your mom or dad yet?” She looked expectantly as Deb listened into her phone, waiting for an answer.

Deb listened for a few seconds, and then hung up, “it’s busy. All circuits are busy.” They moved over and sat down on a nice stone bench right next to the perfectly trimmed hedges in front of the school. Engraved on the bench in an ornate script was; A gift from Andrew and Michelle, class of ’83. This expensive detail was lost on them though. Their minds were elsewhere.

They sat there for some time one butt firmly planted on Andrew, the other on Michelle, waiting for the other to speak, waiting for a plan to form, but neither said anything. Finally Deb spoke up, “I’m fucking starved. You hungry?”

“Are you shitting me? All I ate today was an orange.” Kim looked at her like she could not have asked a more stupid question.

“Let’s hit the cafeteria then. I’m not skipping lunch today.” She got up and dragged Kim along with her.

*****

The campus cafeteria was only maybe a hundred feet down the private school street. They walked holding hands the entire distance. This wasn’t all that unusual for them, but today they were holding hands not out of friendship, but for mutual reinforcement. Together they were strong, apart they were vulnerable. Holding hands just made sure they wouldn’t be separated.

Inside the double glass doors the cafeteria was nearly empty. Long row tables with built in round plastic seats lined the long room like bright blue Formica coffins. With few students inside, the hollow concrete cafeteria had an eerie echo to it, like an academic mausoleum. The girls were instantly unsure of their choice to come here. They were beckoned by the sole group of kids sitting in the center table though, and the thought of being wanted appealed to both of them, and they hurried over.