Across the court, I heard someone curse. It was a teenager complaining about the WIFI. Someone closer to us started talking about not being able to get the news online. Matt looked up. He seemed to have a sixth sense whenever anyone around him had a technical problem, and I swear he heard words like internet and online like dogs hear high-pitched whistles that humans can’t. He looked at his phone and made a few clicks. “Looks like the WIFI is down now,” he said with a moan.
“That bites,” Jordan said. “How are we going to know what’s going on out there now?”
“We’ll have to rely on the police—at least until they get the system back up,” Matt answered.
“If they get it going at all,” Harley said, her voice sounding dejected.
Harley and Matt were sitting cross-legged on the same exercise mat, and they’d somehow found a deck of cards. Matt had been making notes on a piece of paper, and Harley was moving cards around on the soft surface. She looked at them and then rearranged them.
“What are you guys playing?” I asked.
“We’re making up a game,” Matt explained. “I thought we’d be creative while we’re stuck here with no television and trying to conserve our phone batteries.”
“I see,” I commented. “So, tell me about it. This could keep our minds occupied anyway.”
“That’s the plan,” Harley said.
“Damn I’m hungry,” Jordan announced.
“Well, you just got out of basketball practice not too long ago,” I pointed out. “Maybe you could ask if there’s more available.”
“Good idea,” he said. He stood up and walked across the court in the direction of the cafeteria.
“So, what is this game?” I asked Matt.
“We’re still working out the details, but it’s themed around a zombie apocalypse.”
“Wow, Matt.” I shook my head. “A little inappropriate, don’t you think?”
“Why?” He looked at me with a face that showed no sign he understood my reaction.
“So…here we are in the middle of a disaster, and people out there…” I chocked on my own words as I pointed toward the doors. “People out there are dead or dying. It’s not something to make fun of.”
Matt’s face dropped. “I’m not making fun of it,” he said.
“He’s just trying to come up with something to keep us busy,” Harley said, defending him. “Besides, it’s not like zombies are real. There’s no such thing.”
“What do you mean there’s no such thing as zombies?” Jordan’s voice asked. He came back to our spot and sat down on his pad. “Chips anyone?” he asked, opening a bag he was carrying. He held the sack toward us, and inside were individual packages of different types of chips. Harley and Matt took some. I passed. “You know there’s a conspiracy theory that zombies are a real thing. They say all those urban legends have a grain of truth in them.”
I got up to leave.
“What’s wrong with her?” I heard Jordan ask as I left the area. I made my way to the locker rooms below the gym and found them empty. I sat down on a bench and buried my face in my hands. What were we going to do? What if my mom and Derek were both dead?
In some ways, being able to cry would be a relief, but no tears came. Instead, I felt my protective shroud of dissociation engulf me. It wasn’t healthy, I knew, but it was familiar, and it kept me safe and numb. It reasoned with me and made me feel better, telling me this might only be twenty-four hours after all. From inside my brain fog, it seemed both too long and too short a time to learn what waited for us outside the chained doors of Carver High School.
After I felt composed, I returned to the gym, somehow feeling stronger in my cocoon of depressed indifference.
Harley ran up to me. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m always, okay,” I answered.
She gave me a dissatisfied smile as I walked past her and sat down on my mat. I saw that Jordan had amassed a small stash of books, a couple board games, and some candy bars. He and Matt were engaged in a game of chess.
“Where’d you get the candy?” I asked.
“I have my sources,” he said with a secretive look of privileged know-how. “Help yourself.”
I took a chocolate bar and opened my backpack. I found my English text and flipped through the pages, stopping at Beowulf.
“Um, I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about homework for a while,” Harley said, watching me from her pad.
“Maybe you’re right,” I acknowledged. “It’s just something to do, I guess.” I focused my attention on the story, determined to figure it out. It was a little thing but reading it (or trying to) made me feel like there was at least one thing I could control.
* * * * *
The night was mostly uneventful. The gym wasn’t completely dark because moonlight streamed through the higher windows most of the evening. I moved in and out of light sleep, reawakening at every noise. We ate breakfast in shifts, and again, the foods were served in the familiar, albeit bland packaging. I spotted Trey going through the serving line. He said something to the server, and she left the line and disappeared into the kitchen. He then began grabbing packets of food from the trays and stuffing them into his pockets. A guy behind him that I recognized as another stoner did the same. The server returned and handed something to Trey. I couldn’t see what it was. I had to smile to myself. Amid this horrible situation, it was a relief to find something comical. Munchies.
After breakfast, Principal Sutton used the address system to announce that she’d received notice that the official all-clear notice to leave the building was anticipated around noon. Gasps and cries reverberated throughout the crowd.
The man I thought was probably homeless started praying aloud. He held his hands in the air and called out, “Praise Jesus! Thank you, working cahoots my newspaper! Doris coffee.” He continued on in nonsense words, uttering each in such a sincere tone that it made me wonder what he thought he was saying.
“National Guard units will be here to assist you with safe transport to your homes. They will assist you with instructions on where to find lists of the missing and those who are being treated at local hospitals. To assist with orderly dismissal, the FWPD will return any personal items you relinquished yesterday. That process will begin at approximately 11:30 am. We will release you in shifts, as the process will take time.”
She pointed toward the back door of the building. “There will be only one point of entry or exit during the process, and it is that door, so please, no pushing or shoving. Stay in an orderly line. We ask for your patience as we work with the Guard. Additionally, I would like to ask for volunteers who are willing to assist us with cleaning up and storing mats, cots, and cafeteria items. We understand you are anxious to leave, but if some can stay behind to help, that would be much appreciated.”
“What are you all going to do?” Matt asked. “I got a message from my parents saying they’re okay and that they were told to pick me up at an army pickup station in the Northridge Mall parking lot this afternoon.”
“Same here,” Jordan said.
Harley looked at her phone. “I haven’t heard anything yet,” she said. Her voice trembled, and she put her hand over her face.
I pulled her to me and wrapped her in a hug. “Me neither, Harley. We’ll get through this.”
“Hey,” Jordan said, “Since Matt and I have some time, we’ll hang back with you guys. What say we volunteer to help Ms. Sutton?
“Sure, no problem,” Matt agreed.
As the morning progressed, Matt, Jordan, Harley, and I stepped up to help. All eyes were on Mr. Woods as he deactivated the ESIP system. It seemed like several long moments before anyone said anything.
“I’m not sure I want to know what it looks like outside,” Harley said.
“I know,” Matt said. “We need to be prepared for anything.”
“You mean like seeing dead bodies?” Harley asked.
“Naw,” Jordan said. “I’m sure that�
��s what the National Guard has been doing all night. That’s probably why they kept us in here. Right, Matt?”
Matt looked doubtful. “Maybe.” He ran his hand through his thick, black hair. “They would focus first on survivors. After that, they would deal with any bodies.”
“So, you think there might be dead people in the street?” I asked.
“Probably not bodies out in the open, but you may see bags around,” Matt explained.
“Yeah. Either way, I think it’s best to just not spend too much time taking in the sights,” Jordan reasoned. “Just keep your eyes front and center.”
We collected trash from the cafeteria and took the bags out to the dumpster. As we worked, the National Guard units arrived with transport vehicles and began loading people aboard.
The custodians asked us to assist with sanitizing the sleeping cots. We gathered and loaded them onto trolleys and took them outside behind the school.
As we went outside, I couldn’t help myself and ignored Jordan’s advice. I looked around the back of the building. This area was surrounded by fencing and mostly paved with asphalt, except for a grass-covered sitting area that featured some benches and a picnic table. Dumpsters were near the gate, and a maintenance building sat closer to the school. I didn’t see anything that looked like body bags and sighed with relief.
The custodians gave us pressurized commercial sized pump sprayers full of disinfectant solution and instructed us on the process. We were to spray the cots, scrub them down with disinfectant, and then let them sit in the sun while the cleaning agent did its job. I paired up with Harley to do the spraying, and as we finished each one, Matt and Jordan placed the cots in the parking lot to soak for the required ten minutes before rinsing. It was sunny but chilly, and by the time we finished, I was freezing.
We went back into the gym. I checked my phone, and there was still no message from Mom. Harley heard from her parents, and they’d arranged to have her picked up and brought to the hospital where her mother was being treated for chemical exposure. I wasn’t at all certain what to do. My friends looked at me, reluctant to leave me here by myself.
“What are your plans?” Harley asked me.
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I’m going to text my aunt Janine to see if she can help. I’ve got to find Derek too.”
“You want me to stick around until you hear something?” Jordan asked. Matt nodded his willingness to stay as well.
“I can’t let you guys do that,” I responded. “You’ve got families who need you. Besides, if I don’t get through to Janine or Mom, I will just have to go home and wait until I find out something or until Janine can get here from Chicago.”
“But you’ll be by yourself,” Harley reasoned. “That won’t be safe.”
“Harley, you’re so sweet to worry about me, but I can do this. I’ve been by myself before.”
“Not in a situation like this you haven’t,” she insisted. “You’re going to need help.”
Back in the school building, there were possibly fifty or so people waiting to leave. The homeless man was reclining on the bleachers and did not appear in any hurry to go. I glanced around the facility and just barely caught a glimpse of Bronson disappearing behind the drapery on the stage. I nudged Harley. “Trey Bronson has been lighting up on the stage, hiding behind the curtains.”
Harley smiled and shook her head. Jordan snorted. We gathered our belongings and went outside where the transport vehicle was loading passengers. A soldier advised us this one was full, and we would have to wait for the next.
“This is such a freakin’ nightmare,” Jordan said under his breath as we walked to a bench under a shelter that was typically used for loading and unloading school buses. The army vehicle pulled out of the lot, turned, and drove out of sight in the direction of the mall.
As we sat in the fall chill, my gaze drifted to the street beyond the gates. A wrecked car sat abandoned in the roadway, its front end grasping a utility pole. The breeze picked up, sending stray, dead leaves skittering down the sidewalk. Their delicate scraping noises seemed deafening in the stillness. A school bus sat motionless across the road. Its front end had run up on the curb, tilting its empty carcass askew. The bifold door hung ajar.
I checked my phone again, and there was still no message. I did a double-take as I noticed a ‘no service’ message in the upper corner of the screen. “Do you have a signal?” I asked Matt. “I may need to use your cell.”
He looked at his phone. “No. That’s odd,” he said. “I always have a signal here. Jordan and Harley checked their phones.
“I don’t have any bars either,” Harley said.
“Man, this just keeps going from bad to worse,” Jordan mused. “I got nothing.”
I couldn’t help but snicker.
“What could possibly be funny?” Jordan demanded.
“Nothing,” I said. “Not really funny. Just ironic. “What you said reminded me of something my dad used to always say. “Things are never so bad that they can’t get worse.”
“Wow, what a sad outlook,” Jordan commented.
“Yeah, it was sad, but he seemed more on the mark with that than off most of the time,” I informed Jordan.
The whir of a diesel engine sounded as another troop transport vehicle appeared about a block away. It turned the corner and headed toward the school.
“Well, your dad’s not going to be right today,” Jordan said. “Things got to look up.”
As the truck pulled to a stop inside the gate, the distant wail of a siren filled the air.
◆◆◆
The soldier driving the transport truck threw open his door and leaped from the vehicle. Another climbed out of the passenger side “Inside! Inside! Everybody inside! Now!” he shouted. Two other soldiers jumped out of the back of the truck and sprinted around toward the building. They herded people back toward the gymnasium door.
Dissociation is an odd sensation in the middle of a crisis. Everything around you seems to flow in slow motion, making even the most horrifying things look graceful somehow. Several of the people who’d been waiting outside with us began to panic. They clamored past me with their arms outstretched and flailing. Their bodies moved as if we were in a slow-motion film. Shouts and screams seemed distant and somehow muffled. A man fell to his knees and cried out as he scrambled toward the building. People stumbled over each other, pushing and shoving. A young woman was trampled on the asphalt and blood seeped fast through her sleeve from what was likely a long gash in her arm. Reality hit me hard and fast as my senses returned from their detached state. I ran toward the woman, and Jordan grabbed my arm.
“Casey! What are you doing?” he yelled. “Get in the building!”
“Help me get her inside, Jordan!” I begged. “Please!”
His jaw stiffened, and then he dropped my arm. We both ran to the woman and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as we pulled her through the doorway. Harley and Matt ran in right behind us. The soldiers stood at the entrance and gestured, signaling us to move fast. They scanned the immediate area as if searching for more people who might be able to come inside. Rushing the last few people into the school, the soldiers pulled the door closed and secured it with a steel bar. Jordan and I helped the injured woman to Mrs. Hoffstedder’s makeshift medical station where the nurse began treating the woman’s wounds and checking for broken bones.
Harley, Matt, and I stood near Mrs. Hoffstedder’s work area. I looked around and saw that this time, there were far fewer people in the gymnasium than before the transports began taking people away. Possibly only fifty or so people remained. Most of them hovered near the door. All showed different reactions ranging from fear to anger. Many were demanding answers from the soldiers, but the uniformed personnel offered no information and simply urged them to calm down. Outside, the siren continued to wail, keeping me in a state of hyper-vigilance.
As the horn’s pitch rose and fell, I scanned the room and locked eyes with a girl who appea
red to be about nine years old. Her eyelids were swollen, and dark circles marred her otherwise perfect little face. The emotion showing in her expression was one of frozen shock, but her eyes were wide and darting back and forth with a primal kind of fear. I tried to summon a reassuring smile but could only manage a sympathetic nod.
Mr. Woods, the school safety officer, ordered the crowd to remain in the gym. “Everyone, please remain calm. We do not yet know what the emergency situation is, but as a precautionary measure, I am going to reactivate the ESIP system. Fortunately, most of the building’s doors and windows are still secured, as we did not have time to fully open the building. However, I need four volunteers to help me with double checking every door and window per the required procedures.”
Several stepped forward and offered to help. Mr. Woods spoke briefly to them and assigned each person a section of the building to check. “As for the rest of you, remember the procedures from the previous incident yesterday. No one is to open any doors or windows until the all clear is given. Your lives and the lives of everyone else here depend on it.” He gestured toward the soldiers. “I’ll need you to maintain order here in the gym and make sure no one leaves. I’ll take these individuals with me and will activate the system.” He left with the volunteers, and the rest of us stood around, unsure what to do next.
I didn’t see principal Sutton in the crowd and wondered if she had left on one of the transport vehicles. What happened to the people who were on their way to the pickup points? Chances were, everyone who left was still en route to the different locations around the city. Would they be able to get to shelters? I shook my head in reaction to my fears. I couldn’t let myself think about it.
Viral Series (Book 1): Viral Dawn [Extended Edition] Page 7