The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse (6 page)

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Authors: B.J. Knights

Tags: #Science Fiction, #post-apocalyptic, #Literature & Fiction, #Dystopian, #Science Fiction & Fantasy

BOOK: The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse
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“Looks like there's been a fire,” Randall said holding a crescent wrench.  

Alice walked to the end of the driveway and stopped a young couple walking by.

“Excuse me, are you guys having car trouble too?”

The man looked up, nearly surprised by the direct question,

“Uh, yeah. Our car broke down about a mile down the road.” the man replied.

“Our cell phones don't work either,” the woman interjected.

“Same problem here,” Alice replied. “I would let you use our phone or give you a ride, but nothing works here either.”

“That's okay, we're just going to walk back to her sister's house,” the man said.

“We had just left, now we're coming back. Talk about awkward,” the woman added with a tired laugh.

“Maybe it has something to do with the power plant.” the man continued.

Just the mention of such a thing had Alice's undivided attention.


What
happened to the power plant?” she asked. The man and the woman exchanged glances, and then the man looked to Alice.

“There was an explosion, at least that's what people are saying. That's where all the smoke is coming from.” he answered.

Alice could feel her muscles tightening, her mouth was getting dry, and panic was setting in.

“Thanks for the info. Good luck,” she said as she fled into the garage.

 

Randall was still messing with the engine even after Alice told him that he was wasting his time. If everything she had been told over the years was true, all of these events were connected. The only question was what could she do about it? She knew that in being prepared for a disaster she was ahead of a lot of people in her neighborhood. But how long before the very worst she had always imagined became a reality?

 

Randall felt a rush of wind blow past him. He lifted his head from the engine to see Alice, wearing a small backpack, racing her son's bicycle down the driveway and into the street.

“Alice!” Randall shouted.

She didn't answer or turn around. Randall ran from the car to the end of the driveway.

“Alice, come back!” he shouted again. Alice turned her head slightly.

“I'll be back soon. Stay here if they come back!”

 

 

Chapter 9: Kiya’s Story

             

Kiya was sitting in her classroom when she heard the explosion. The classroom was quiet as all the sixth grade students were working on mid-day math exercises. Kiya liked math. It made sense to her. Right before the explosion a boy sitting behind her tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey, Kiya. What's the answer for number four?” he whispered.

Kiya didn't answer, trying to ignore him. But he persisted.

“Psss. Answer. Number four. Come on,” he continued.

The teacher, Mrs. Crabtree, was sitting at her desk at the front of the class room. She would sometimes look up from her
Elle
magazine to scan the classroom. The boy looked down quickly to avert her gaze. “Kiya please,” he pleaded looking down at his desk.

 

The problem with assigned seating was that sometimes you ended up sitting in front of people like Mark Nelson who would always ask you the answers for the math questions. It was the third week of middle school, and although Kiya seemed to be adjusting fine, there was one person she couldn't stand. His name was Mark Nelson. He was helpless. He was pathetic. He was...needy. So just because Kiya did her work and studied hard, he
expected
the answers? Was it because she was a girl and he was a boy? Were girls
expected
to give boys answers? Had the world gone mad? This was the last straw, if she didn't let Mark know to leave her alone, the charade would continue through the entire school year. She had to put an end to it. She was going to turn around and rip him to shreds. She was going to make him cry right there in class in front of everyone. That would be the price he paid for the way he would talk too loud even when he was whispering. For the way he asked her for answers. For the way that he sat behind her breathing loudly all day, every day.

 

At the third request, Kiya turned around to face her opponent. Her mouth was forming the words she was going to say. She took a deep breath when suddenly the lights in the classroom went out. For a moment she was momentarily distracted, but wanted to continue on with the plan to destroy Mark Nelson. Before she could get the words out, a distant explosion rumbled the classroom. A few framed pictures fell to the wall. Then silence. Mrs. Crabtree stood up and walked over to the window to investigate.

 

Past soccer field and the trees beyond the school, a gorgeous blaze danced in the sky.

“My God...,” Mrs. Crabtree said. Some of the kids moved from their desk and to the window. Soon the entire class followed suit. “Whoa,” a boy said causing more interest among the students. Mrs. Crabtree raised her arms as to create order.

“Children! Children please go back to your desks. It's just a forest fire.  Let's all take out seats—”

“Who turned out the lights?” a red-headed girl dramatically interrupted.

“Erika, everyone can see just fine. Don't try to start a panic. Get in your seats!” Mrs. Crabtree persisted.

The class grumbled and moved away from the window and slowly back to their desks. 

 

Mrs. Crabtree took another look out the window of the classroom, then slowly moved to the front of the class, thinking. Kiya felt that it would be hard to get back to the math exercises after that little interruption. Plus she lost the rage needed to tell off Mark Nelson. Now what was she going to do? Mrs. Crabtree turned to face the class.

“I'm going to find out what’s going on. I'll need one of you to be the teacher's assistance while I'm gone. Do I have any volunteers?” she asked.

None of the children raised their hands. They knew better.

“Okay, well, we'll do this the easier way,” she said as she pointed to a random student. No one within her range was immediately sure if she had pointed at them or not. Every student tried to quickly look away.

 

“Shelly,” she said pointing.

“Shelly Ackerman, come up here and sit at my desk.”

The little blonde girl had no choice but to move. Any stalling would have made things worse. Kiya took a deep sigh of relief. She was only a few desks from Shelly. 

Mrs. Crabtree looked to the class and continued, “I want you to treat Shelly with the same respect you would show me. She has the right to report any bad behavior to me. And I will take the appropriate action. Now, I'll be right back. In the meantime, continue your math exercises.”

“But I can't see anything!” the red-headed girl shouted from the back of the class.

“Erika, don't be smart. Everyone can see just fine with the natural light from outside.”

Mrs. Crabtree left the room as Shelly nervously took a seat at the teacher's desk. The minute the door shut a paper ball from the back of the class room struck Shelly in the forehead. Laughter followed. Shelly scowled at the boys in the back.

 

Mrs. Crabtree walked down the hall and noticed a group of other teachers huddled by the school lockers. “So what's going on with the power?” she asked.

One of the teachers, Mr. Barone, looked to her as the others murmured among themselves.

“None of us are really sure. Just seems like a standard power outage.”

“And the explosion?” Mrs. Crabtree asked.

Another teacher interjected, “That's what we're trying to figure out.”

“Where's the principle?” another teacher barked.

“Probably on the phone with the power company.” Mr. Barone replied.

“Well let's hope he's doing something. Nothing works. Did you guys try your cell phones?” Another teacher, Ms. Whitten, asked the group

The group seemed to indicate that they hadn't as she continued, “Mine won’t’ even turn on for some reason.”

Mr. Barone scratched his scruffy chin. “Hmmm, that
is
strange.” 

 

Inside the classroom, Shelly continued to face the barrage of torment from the teacher’s desk. Though she tried to look preoccupied and flip through a magazine, the boys in the back continued.

“Sheeeeehlly,” they called.
They repeated it in unison until she finally snapped. “What?!” she demanded.

“You smell like cat turds,” a boy said. Then they would laugh.

Kiya felt bad for Shelly and wondered if she should try to stick up for her. But this was risky business. It was only the third week of school and she didn't want to create any first impressions that would stay with her the entire year. She just wanted Mrs. Crabtree to come back so the taunts against Shelly would stop. The chanting continued:

 

“Shelly.”

“Shelly Ackerman.”

“Butt-sniffer-says-what?”

“Shelly.”

“Shelly Akerman the crapper man.”

 

“Why don't you idiots just shut up?” she yelled. But her anger would just make them laugh harder. Suddenly Mrs. Crabtree entered the room, much to Shelly’s relief. Behind her trailed the principle of the school, Mr. Wright. He was a strange, fickly man, with a dated flattop haircut. He wore glasses at the end tip of his nose. The glasses themselves had a string connected that rested around his neck. This was the first thing Kiya noticed about him as he carefully made his way to the front of the class, surveying the children.

 

“You can take your seat now, Shelly, thank you,” Mrs. Crabtree said as she motioned towards the other students. Shelly scurried back to her seat as Mrs. Crabtree continued, “Class, let me have your attention please.” The talking and laughing of the class slowly faded. “Our principle, Mr. Wright, wanted to say a few words about today’s events.”

 

“Did you guys forget to pay the power bill again?” Thomas Cassie, a troublemaker, bellowed from the back of the class. Collective laughter followed almost immediately. “That’s enough. Now, quiet!” Mrs. Crabtree demanded. The students did as they were told. Mr. Wright stared at the large eraser board with the day’s lesson on it in and then turned around to address the class.  

 

“I wanted to speak to this class first, because most of you are the youngest of all the children in the school. Well, at least those of you who haven’t been held back for one reason or another.” Mr. Wright’s quick glance met Thomas Cassie, causing Thomas to shamefully look down at his desk. “There are a few things you should know about today’s events. I want to make it very clear, as clear as can be, that there is to be no panic or disorderly conduct permitted for the rest of the day.”

 

Not a child in the classroom knew what he was talking about at this point. The bored stares of children rested on Mr. Wrights continual pacing in the front of the class room.

 

“There will be no panic because there is no reason to panic. As long as you are at the school, you are safe. It seems that there has been a major power outage that has taken out the main power to the school. We can’t, at the moment, figure out why our backup assistance hasn’t sustained operations—“

 

“Mr. Wright, remember this is a sixth grade class.” Mr. Wright turned to Mrs. Crabtree clearly annoyed. “I’m sorry?” he said. “What I’m saying is that I think you’re confusing them,” she responded while trying to keep her voice at a whisper.

Mr. Wright looked to the class, then back to Mrs. Crabtree. “Oh, I see. Very well.” He slightly paused to get his thoughts together. “What I’m trying to say is that there is nothing to worry about and we have everything under control. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Crabtree?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Mrs. Crabtree declared with a nod.

 

“The main problem is that we don’t know exactly what is going on, and we certainly don’t want to put our students in any danger. What we’re going to do is keep everyone in the school until we get more details from the authorities.” Loud groans filled the classroom.  Mr. Wright attempted to continue, “Hold on class. Please, it’s only temporary and standard protocol for your own safety.”
“What’s the fire outside from?” Betsy Hamilton, a straight-A student who sat in the front row asked.

Mr. Wright glanced outside to see the flames and shifted back to Betsy. “That? It could be a forest fire, or it could be something else, we don’t know for sure.”

 

“This sucks, I want to go home!” Thomas Cassie shouted.

“Me too,” another boy chimed in.

The objections started to grow more loudly, irritating Mr. Wright to no end. He rubbed his forehead then unleashed a furious tirade.

 

“That’s quite enough! I don’t want to hear another word. The next child that speaks out of turn receives an automatic suspension from school. Period! The school is officially on lock down. No one gets to leave, no one gets to come in, got it?” The class sat stunned following the outburst. Mrs. Crabtree wasn’t sure of what to say either, as her curious expression indicated.

 

“And if you don’t believe me, try me. I dare you. Go ahead and try me. Because if I hear of a single incident happening in this classroom, it’s an automatic suspension. Are we clear on that?”

The class was still silent. No one was really sure of what they were clear on.

 

Mr. Wright continued, “Okay good. Now just remain in your classroom at your desks and make sure not to give your teacher a hard time.” Mr. Wright looked at his watch then shook it a few times. It didn’t appear to be working. He tried to conceal his anger with the watch malfunction as he provided his closing remarks. “Everything will be fine, just hang tight for a little bit.” Mr. Wright walked to the exit, nodded at Mrs. Crabtree, and waved to the children. “I’ll be back to check-in with your classroom in a little bit. Be good.”

 

The door closed. The full weight of what Mr. Wright said started to sink in among the children. Groans became louder, rising to the level of a hundred conversations going on at once. Kiya looked around the class in full confusion. She did not like her principle, having met him for the second time, the first being on orientation day. He seemed to be in over his head, and not very good with children. How he became principle of a middle school Kiya was unsure of.

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