Along the window were jagged bits of glass, too many to climb through safely. Scott took off his hoodie, wrapped it around his fist, and then knocked out the rest of the glass. I looked around the parking lot, halfway expecting someone to hear us. The pounding in my chest was now in my ears. Scott quickly knocked out the rest of the glass, and a moment later, Jada was in the school.
"Come on," Derek said to me. Placing his hands on my waist, he carefully lifted me through the window. He was right behind me, followed by Brolin. Scott came through last.
Even though we were still cautious, we all felt a bit safer within the darkness of the school. A stench rose up to my nostrils as I waited for my eyes to adjust. Despite the broken windows throughout the school the smell was still prominent. I wondered what the smell could be? As my eyes adjusted, I realized what it was. Death. There were still bodies in the school. They had cleared the bodies from the outside of the school, but didn't get the ones inside yet.
Jada and Brolin were already out the classroom door. I gasped, almost tripping over a body. Derek silently held a finger to his lips, placing a gentle hand on the back of my shoulder, then stepped over the body. I followed and Scott was right behind.
We silently stepped out the door, and Jada and Brolin were already down the hall, hurrying toward the cafeteria, stepping over bodies as they went. We made it to the main foyer of the school, and there were more bodies, covered in blood. Jada and Brolin carefully stepped around them, almost to the cafeteria door with their back turned when I saw it.
I heard an ear-piercing scream then realized it was coming from me. Derek quickly grabbed my shoulders.
One of the bodies got up off the floor and was walking toward us.
"Jada!" I yelled, pointing to the male silhouette moving toward us.
Jada was there in a flash, immediately taking her fighting stance. Within a second, she took him down, and had the side of his face pressed against the cold, stone floor.
"Hey, hey!" the boy said. "I come in peace! Man, am I glad to see you!"
"Who are you?" Jada demanded, still holding him tightly to the ground. Derek stepped in front of me, and Brolin and Scott were right behind Jada, tensed and ready.
"Eric Kent," the boy answered. His voice sounded like someone was pinching his cheeks together.
"Are you one of them? A terrorist?" Jada demanded, pushing his face further into the floor with one knee on his back.
"Are you crazy?" Eric retorted, almost mockingly, but made no aggressive moves. "I've been waiting here for a chance to escape."
"How?" Jada asked, loosening her grip slightly.
"By playing dead," Eric said. His dark mahogany skin and black eyes gleamed in the light, pooling in from the security lights outside.
"You laid here on the floor with the other bodies all this time?" Brolin asked in disbelief.
"Yup," Eric replied. Jada released him, and he sat up, rubbing his coal black buzz-cut hair.
We all looked on in disbelief.
"I had to play dead," Eric continued. "When it was all going down, I saw them gun down the people who were running out the door, so I knew I couldn't get out. I waited for a chance to escape, but there was none. I did the only thing I could think of and played opossum, lying face down on the floor. I had blood splatters on me, so I looked convincing." He stopped to sigh with relief, running a hand through his hair, and then continued. "I was going to take off earlier today, but they were out there, collecting the bodies. I knew if I ran, I'd be dead meat, so I waited."
"You laid on the floor, all this time?" I asked, unable to believe my ears.
And we thought we had it rough.
Eric nodded. "It got close one time. A terrorist came through yesterday, looking at the bodies, making sure we were all dead, I guess." Eric tensed, clenching his teeth at the memory. "They were laughing." He shook his head. "Then they came to me. I wanted to kill the sons of a bitches right then, but there were more of them and only one of me. He flipped me over roughly with his foot. I just lay limp, keeping my breathing shallow. He laughed then moved on."
Eric was visibly shaking with fury. Jada placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Why didn't you try to leave tonight? After they left?" Scott asked, clearly caught up in the story.
"Where would I go?" Eric continued. "From what I could see, they were everywhere. I knew I couldn't make it home. I live all the way across town, and I knew I couldn't make it there in one day. I knew I'd get caught. And when I got there, I didn't know what I would find. So far, no one has come looking for us at night, and I know if my parents were still alive, they would be here. I didn't know that anyone else had made it out. If I'd had known, I would have come looking for you."
"What can you tell us about them?" Scott asked, all business, taking a knee beside him on the floor.
"Well, they're terrorists, of course," Eric thought carefully, "and I think from the Middle East, but they have some oriental people with them, though."
"North Koreans," I corrected.
Eric's eyebrows drew up in surprise above his onyx eyes.
"I spoke to my Dad right after it happened," I amended.
"What else can you tell us?" Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowing together, casting his eyes into shadow in the dim light.
"They're coming back tomorrow to get the bodies from inside the school." Eric shook his head. "They say it's a health hazard. Go figure. Here they spent the day cleaning house, shooting anything that moved, and they are worried about a health hazard."
"For them," I added.
"Anyway, I think they're planning on using the school as a concentration camp or something." Eric wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Despite the broken windows, the air and stench was stifling within the school.
"Then, we have time to act," Scott said.
"Not that again," I said.
"No, he's right," Derek corrected. "We have to plan something, since we know they're coming back. It might be our only chance. If we wait too long, this place will be crawling with insurgents and we'll lose our chance."
I nodded, seeing the logic in his words. And at that moment, I knew I would follow him anywhere.
"Is there anyone else still alive?" Derek asked Eric, clearly concerned. We never thought that there might be anyone else who could have survived this mayhem.
Eric shook his head. "Not that I know of. I really haven't gone farther than this room and the kitchen."
"Is there food still left?" Scott asked, thinking with his stomach, but the grumble in my stomach echoed what we were all hoping.
"Yeah," Eric grinned. "Lots of it! The power's been out, but the freezers might be on some kind of automatic generator. Also the food in the walk-in coolers is still good, too. As long as the door is kept shut, it'll last for a few days."
"Good," Derek said. "Let's go. Before we leave, we can quickly scan the school to see if anyone else is alive, too." But against all hope, we knew it couldn't be true. How could anyone else have survived?
Jada helped Eric to his feet, offering him a hand, which he refused. Too macho. Not another one, I thought to myself. But he seemed like an alright guy.
"How many are left?" Eric asked, clearly amazed that we had survived. "Where have you been hiding?"
"We'll tell you everything later," Derek said. "Let's get the food first."
We quickly scanned the lockers, looking for backpacks or anything we could carry the food with. I was lucky to find some jeans, a T-shirt, and some tennis shoes. I threw them quickly into a bag then went on to the next. We ended up finding more clothes in the gym lockers, and some flashlights in a kitchen drawer. The freezer doors were locked, but we found an ax, so Scott hit the handle enough times until it opened. I was the lookout, standing in the kitchen doorway, just in case.
"Come on, Casey!" Derek called, handing me a backpack. On the freezer door, there were slices in the heavy metal from all the times Scott missed. We took the ax with us, too.
We ran into the freezer while Scott held the door open. Lined on the shelves were hotdogs, hamburger patties, pizza boxes, sliced turkey dinners in gravy—relatively a smorgasbord. We filled the backpacks with all that we could carry. Scott grabbed two huge tubs of ice cream: one vanilla, one chocolate.
Derek gave him a weird look, knowing it wouldn't keep. Scott looked at him innocently and shrugged with a smile.
After we cleared out what we could from the freezer, we scavenged what we could from the kitchen, as well. We grabbed bread, hamburger and hotdog buns, mustard, ketchup—anything we thought might keep. I opened a kitchen drawer and there were kitchen utensils. I dumped a whole drawer full into an empty backpack.
"Look what I found here!" Brolin said loudly. When we all turned, he was holding up a butcher knife.
"Grab what you can," Derek said flatly. We all knew that they could be used not just for cooking. At this point, weapons were good, too.
We were all carrying at least three backpacks filled to the brim when Scott said, "We'd better get out of here. We're pushing our luck."
We all agreed and were headed toward the door when we heard a noise. We froze, looking at each other, then ducked behind tables—virtually any place we could find to hide. Brolin ducked behind the door.