Death's Little Angels (2 page)

“
Yes, McKenzie?” Mrs.
Westwood hesitantly asked.

“
I need to go to the
bathroom.”

“
You went a few minutes
ago.”

“
Well, I need to go again.
I can’t hold it,” McKenzie jiggled in her desk and made jerking
moves.

“
You are so melodramatic,”
Mater mumbled.

“
More like a drama queen,”
Sue Ellen added rolling her eyes.

“
Watch it trailer trash,”
McKenzie snapped at Sue Ellen.

“
Girls, stop it!
McKenzie…” Mrs. Westwood nervously glanced at the door. “I really
think you should wait until I call the front office to see what is
going on, first.”

“
My grandfather would not
be happy if he knew my bladder exploded,” McKenzie whined. She
threatened the teacher with her slanted eyes as they tightened at
the corners. Everyone knew that McKenzie’s grandfather owned half
of Wiggin’s real estate. The family’s house was about the size of
the local elementary school.

Mrs. Westwood went to the desk to retrieve a
pass for McKenzie. McKenzie glanced back at Mater and Sue Ellen and
turned up her nose. She rudely snatched the pass out of Mrs.
Westwood’s hands before exiting the door.

“
On your way out…fall and
break your neck,” Sue Ellen hissed under her breath at McKenzie as
she watched her exit the classroom. McKenzie glanced back with a
smirk at Sue Ellen and flipped her thick healthy strands over her
back.

“
No more sleeping in
class. That goes for everyone. I need you well rested and ready to
learn,” Mrs. Westwood said as she walked in front of the class.
“Now we are going to review the hurricane drill one mo—“

Several bone curdling screams were followed
by what sounded like books and desks being thrown up against the
wall. The students in the class immediately began to shuffle about
in their desks unaware of what was going on beyond the classroom
doors.

“
Class calm down, please!
This is a part of the drill,” Mrs. Westwood said as she glanced
nervously towards the door.

“
Yelling doesn’t sound
like a part of the hurricane drill,” Drew said biting his bottom
lip. He turned to look back at Sue Ellen who melted like butter in
her seat.

“
Drew, may you please keep
quiet?” Mrs. Westwood responded with agitation. She waddled over to
the classroom door and plastered her face in the elongated window
that gave view to the hallway.

Drew glanced out the big classroom window
that gave view to the outside world. It seemed as if there was
going to be a hurricane today. He knew that Hurricane Angel had
been downgraded to a category one but the sky had darkened since
8:00 a.m. and the strength of the wind had picked up.

Grown
ups
… Drew thought.
I would never send my kid to school even if it
drizzled.
He continued to stare outside
and wondered what Mee-maw was doing at this moment. He thought
about the day ending quickly so that he could go home and practice
baseball. He would play one way or another since he was suspended
from the baseball team.
Must be kidding
myself
, he thought,
play
i
n
this weather?

Drew sucked his teeth and
ran his fingers through his dark brown hair for all he knew there
was not going to be a hurricane today. The weather forecaster was
always wrong. He widened his clear blue eyes at Sue Ellen. She
would never give him time of day. He stayed into too much trouble
at school. Falling asleep, never turning in homework, and feuding
with the jocks were some of the things that Drew’s teachers
insisted he worked on.
Maybe if I get back
on the baseball team, she just might date me,
Drew plotted and planned.

Mrs. Westwood slowly waddled like a duck
back to the front of the classroom and glanced at her wristwatch.
Drew apparently read her mind.

“
Shouldn’t McKenzie be
back by now?” Drew asked.

“
She is probably trying to
figure out what activity to join or who to get over on,” Sue Ellen
rolled her eyes, “but I run the school newspaper and yearbook.
Those jobs are taken.” Mater softly giggled at Sue Ellen’s comment
about McKenzie. No one liked her at school but flocked to her like
flies because her family had old money.

More screams were heard. The shouts sounded
like high-pitched pained cries. Tussling and shuffling were audible
in conjunction with tortuous wails. Chaos echoed in the hallway.
The weather was a bigger distraction from what was going on in the
hallways. A big brown box hit the window from the outside, jostling
the students and Mrs. Westwood. The two windows from inside the
classroom showed the wind picking up outside with the onset of
light rain. Debris of all sorts danced on the schoolyard like
butterflies.

“
Mater…” Sue Ellen
whispered. She sat two desks away from her best friend. Sue Ellen
desperately waved her hands to get Mattalie’s attention.
“Mater!”

Mater turned around
visibly shaken. The look on her face resembled fear. Her big brown
eyes were as big as fifty scent pieces. Mater mouthed the
words
what is going on?
As she leaned her head towards the door where
Mrs. Westwood stood. Sue Ellen shrugged her shoulders and shook her
head. This had never happened before. The students continued to
whisper amongst themselves as the screams and wails periodically
occurred prompting them to be silent.

“
For the day of his great
wrath is come; and who shall be able to withstand it?
Revelations 6:17,” a red haired, green-eyed girl
mumbled. The school required all of the students to wear khaki,
navy blue pants, and white shirts. She stood alone defying the odds
donning a long ankle length khaki skirt.

“
Shut up, firecracker!” A
boy shouted his white teeth coincided with his tanned skin and
dirty blonde hair. Royal Carter, the quarterback of the Stoney
Central football team, opened his mouth to shout another insult at
the wavy, red haired girl. But another scream accompanied by the
breaking of glass silenced him.

Drew watched anxiously as
Mrs. Westwood went back to her desk and pressed the intercom button
that connected the classroom to the front office. No one answered.
Mrs. Westwood then nervously rummaged through her purse.
This is not looking good
, Drew speculated.

“
There is a storm brewing
outside but it isn’t a hurricane is it, Mrs. Westwood?” The red
haired girl, who spoke the scripture earlier, said breaking the
silence in the classroom.

“
Tarynn, I am going to
find out what’s going on.” Mrs. Westwood looked up at the eerily
quiet students and reassured them. She held up her cell phone. “We
are all going to stay seated and not move until I call the front
office to see what is happening. Understood?” The students shook
their heads in agreement, while others stared blankly. Tarynn
closed her eyes and continued to silently pray. Her father was the
local preacher at the church in Wiggins and she enjoyed working
with the missionary group. Drew looked at Tarynn and slowly shook
his head.
Little Miss save the world
Tarynn
, Drew secretly thought.

The door swung open with such force that it
sounded like a gunshot. The principal, Dr. Bradford, interrupted
Tarynn’s prayers and everyone’s else thoughts as he rushed through
the door. His head glistened under the lights with sweat. His
pupils were dilated and face drenched with fear. The principal’s
dry lips trembled with terror.

“
Mrs. Westwood, I…
I
need
you to
keep everyone in this classroom. We have an emergency situation
taking place right now. Do not leave this room no matter what you
may hear, until I come over the intercom authorizing you to do so.
Our intercom system is currently down.” Dr. Bradford turned to
leave before Mrs. Westwood stopped him.

“
What about the hurricane
drill? Hurricane Angel is expected to make landfall at any moment.”
Mrs. Westwood looked towards the window at the weather worsening by
the minute. The high winds were making a sound like a whistling
train. “It’s too dangerous to stay in the classroom. Our safety is
at risk.”

“
After what I just
witnessed…. Hurricane Angel will be the least of your worries. No
time to explain,” Dr. Bradford said grasping for each breath, “Do
not leave! No matter what! I must go and warn the other staff!”
With that the principal powerfully slammed the door.

Sue Ellen stood up. “Mrs. Westwood, what if
it’s a terrorist attack? Or a student who lost their collection of
marbles and brought a gun to school? Shouldn’t we lock the
door?”

The vivid memories of the school shooting
last year in California brought chilling fear to Drew’s bones
because there was no where to hide in the classroom. It was an open
blanket space minus the desks. He pondered over where they would
take cover if needed.

“
Yes, go ahead and lock
the door but everyone else stay seated,” Mrs. Westwood
directed.

Mrs. Westwood pondered over what was going
on. If there was someone out there shooting the other students and
staff she needed to know. Not only was the safety of her students
at risk but that of her unborn child. She picked up her cell phone
to dial the front office with the intention that the secretary
would answer. Mrs. Westwood desperately waited for the front office
to pick up. The call rung for what it seemed like eternity. No one
answered. She tried the front office again. Mrs. Westwood watched,
attentively, as Sue Ellen slowly made her way back to her desk.
After four phone calls to the front office, and no answer, Mrs.
Westwood went back to the door to sneak a peak out of the window in
an effort to see if she could view anything.

Drew licked his lips
slowly and for once did not have Sue Ellen on the brain.
Where was McKenzie? Did some kid grow tired of
being bullied and came to school this morning to take it out on
everyone?
For some strange reason an
instinct to survive kicked in. Drew knew that whatever was outside
those doors would soon be threatening to make its way
in.

Hickory dickory dock

The child ran up the block

It won’t be long

His hunger grows strong

Hickory dickory dock

This was no ordinary
hurricane drill. The students sat solemnly in their desks as they
watched Mrs. Westwood pace the floors back and forth. She held her
cell phone high up in the air in an attempt to get a signal. Drew
over heard the teacher mumble to herself,
I have never had a problem with reception. What is going on
out there?

All of a sudden, the door thundered loudly
like before when Dr. Bradford had bolted into the classroom. Mrs.
Kissing, the English teacher, ran into the door and desperately
tried to open it. The unexpected sight of the crazed appearing
teacher caused Mrs. Westwood to jump back grasping her stomach.

“
Open the door!
Please
! Oh my God, help
us!” Mrs. Kissing frantically yelled.

The desperation in her voice sent chills
through the already hormonal Mrs. Westwood. She ran to the door to
unlock it as the students in the classroom sat dumbfounded and on
edge. Mrs. Kissing ran into the classroom accompanied by a dark
haired Mexican girl, Josefina Torrez and a rail thin, stringy
haired blonde Karley Richardson. They were all covered with red
dots. Drew, observing the situation, knew that this was not going
to be good news at all.

“
Hey! What is that girl
doing in here?” A dark skinned black girl, with blond high lights,
stood up out of her desk. She pointed at Josefina
Torrez.

“
Que pasa? Pendeja! I am
no longer afraid of you, Cookie Rogers! I am tired of running. So,
come on! Bring it!” Joesfina bowed up at Cookie as she stood behind
Mrs. Kissing. Cookie became bold and walked up towards Josefina.
Mater jumped up and put a hand on Cookie’s chest halting
her.

“
All you eat is tacos!
Dat’s why yo breath stank like rotten beans!” Cookie blasted. Some
of the students snickered.

“
I am allergic to most
Mexican food, pendeja loca! At least I don’t have to put my hair on
lay-a-way!” Josefina cracked at Cookie as she swayed and flipped
her long, thick strands. Most of the students responded with
Oooo’s
and giggles after
Josefina’s verbal thrashing.

“
My weave cost more than
that raggedy trailer you live in!”

“
Mi barrio looks better
than that slum hole you call the projects!”

Mater continued to hold onto Cookie’s
arm.

“
Get your hands off me!”
Cookie shouted at Mater. “This girl thinks she looks better than
every one. She is always stealing people’s boyfriends and it’s
about time I set the records straight!” Mater did not back down and
grabbed Cookie’s arms before she had a chance to lunge at
Josefina.

“
Cookie Rogers!” Mrs.
Westwood yelled. “If you don’t sit down this instant, I will have
you in alternative school for the rest of the year and you can kiss
any hopes of a basketball scholarship goodbye! Josefina, one more
word out of you…. Consider your student visa, revoked!” Mrs.
Westwood grabbed her belly. The onset of stomach pains
began.