Apocalypse Before Finals by Julie Steimle (popular ebook readers TXT) 📖

glow around him which made him look like ghoul.

Brian and the rest achingly got to their feet, their eyes fixing heavily on their guard. He shoved them out into the hall.

"Take that with you," the one said to Mark, indicating the trashcan potty.

Four guards with hot sticks escorted them along the hall toward the first bathroom on that floor. And they were not alone.

Lines upon lines of students, queued up one by one along the walls with guards pacing filled both sides of corridor, each line leading to the restroom facilities. The guards shoved them from their classrooms in file and stood around them. The students looked wretched. Some eyes fixed on the floor. Other eyes were searching for friends and family. Not one solid word was uttered in the green and red hot-stick lit darkness among them. One row along the wall went to the boys' facilities the other into the girls' - regardless of gender. A few classmates carried trashcans that had also been converted into potties in desperation. Whimpers and murmurs were the only other sounds besides the echoes of running water and the frequent flushing of toilets along with shuffling feet. After they were shoved into a line, the boys got a better view.

Several of their schoolmates' eyes lifted when they had stepped out of their classroom and were shoved into a line. Almost as quickly, the eyes turned back down, sneaking peeks now and then. It seemed that only Brian, Mark, Darren, and Jonathan dared to fully look up - but then they basically were dead men walking, and they knew it. It was only a matter of time before those People's Military officers took out their rage on them and they were added to the body pile outside. Three guards went with them to keep them from breaking out of line.

The lines moved steadily forward. They recognized all sorts from their classes. Bradley Hershott was shuffling right behind his friend on the football team like a humbled circus bear under a whip - both of them bruised and burned and terrified, despite how they towered over their jailers. Likewise, Sparkey Jones cowered next to Joseph Pearson as they were pushed out of the girls' bathroom to go back to class, both giants on the basketball team but clearly smart enough to know they could not dodge laser fire.

Once the boys heard a shriek.  

Then a guard yanked that girl Jessica Clark by her hair out of the boys' bathroom, shouting at her for meddling with something. Straight after the girl in the acid rock shirt, they dragged an unconscious boy who looked a lot like Adam Arbor.

They staggered in horror, halting. They couldn't tell for sure it if was Adam. Up until then, they thought Adam had managed to lay low. No one had turned him in yet as one of Jeff's friends.

Their guards struck each of them in succession. "Move it."

Stumbling forward, they reached the corner entrance of the bathrooms. There, they were made to stop to wait their turn.

In that nook between bathrooms they found another set of five guards standing with the 'privileged' eight students in Arrassian clothing, waiting their turn to use the facilities. These students avoided the gazes of everyone, anticipating intense loathing from their classmates even though they could not help their family connections any more than being imprisoned by Martians.

Jennifer stood near the door, waiting after her time in the bathroom. Her creamy blue eyes were red-ringed, and she was glaring at the floor. Dural Kelz was standing next to her, talking like he was utterly disappointed in her. "...As a girl of good breeding, you should have advised her. Didn't you know what riffraff Zeldar was?"

Jennifer's eyes would not look at him. Her mouth was in a thin line. She seemed likely to spit, actually. Brian's respect for her rose.

"Answer me, Miss Lenna. Why did you allow Alea Zormna to associate with that foul boy when she told you what he was?" he said.

Brian's teeth clenched. "Leave her alone."

He shouldn't have said it. The guard next to him reminded him with a swipe of the hot stick against his head. His ears started ringing as his hair smoked.

In the echo of his muted hearing, another scream broke out across the hall. Someone fell. Brian could barely see though his watering eyes. But some girl had been struck by a guard, and her classmates were pulling her protectively back into the line.

Dural Kelz turned around. He smirked at 'Zeldar's friends'. "It is you. Do not tell me you and Alea Zormna also had a friendship. Your association with Zeldar is bad enough."

Brian blinked back his tears through a glare at him, clutching his burned ear. "She was my Prom date."

Behind the Dural, against the wall, Jennifer lifted her eyes, trying mentally to say how sorry she was for everything. Tears dribbled down her face. Her shoulders hung as if she could barely stand from grief. Those around them surreptitiously watched, especially as Dural Kelz gazed quizzically at him. "Prom date? What is that? A lover? A fiancée?"

Brian was too tired to get embarrassed. The whole thing was entirely unreal. Just days ago he was thinking about Prom. Now he was just thinking about how to stay alive.

The People's Military officer smirked, shaking his head. He turned again to interrogate Jennifer. "So tell me the truth. I've heard strange reports about the pair of them. Half of these twits say they were lovers. But I doubt that. Alea Zormna has hated him for years. And yet... Zeldars. They're not to be trusted. Especially a half-blood like him."

"I told you." Jennifer closed her eyes. Her breathing was labored. "I have no influence on Zormna. She does what she wants...."

Jonathan and Mark gaped at her. Brian heard it, but his eyes had turned toward the girl who had screamed. He could now see that it had been Joy. Thankfully, she looked relatively unscathed but utterly miserable. Her eyes were begging him to look up. When their gaze met, she mouthed, "Are you ok?"

Brian nodded and tried to grin for her.

"...If Zormna wanted to be with Jeff, it was her business, and I kept out of it," Jennifer said, glaring back at the ground. "It was none of my business what she did anyway. And I want nothing to do with your people."

With such dark stares, Dural Kelz looked like he wanted to gut Jennifer. Then he shot one at Brian with the same loathing. However, Brian's guard shoved him into the bathroom the same time, making that the last he heard of the conversation.

Jonathan, Darren, and Mark remained, cringing.

"You are a traitor, Miss Lenna, and you must be reeducated," Dural Kelz said.

Mark blinked and looked to Jonathan. Darren remained silent, staring at the ground.

"Everyone tells me that you were friends with this lot," Dural Kelz said shortly, pointing at the three boys, who technically were more like awkward acquaintances than friends. Even Darren.

Yet Jennifer bowed her head and nodded. "I was."

The Dural slapped her. "You will never be again."

Jonathan's guard shoved him into the bathroom. Mark and Darren remained, barred only by one other guard.

Jennifer looked up. Her gaze set on Darren whose eyes said he had not told on her. Then she looked to the Dural again, clenching her face. "You can't tell me what to do."

The PM slapped her again.

"You are a traitor."

"Better a traitor than a Pee Man," Mark muttered.

Nostrils flaring, Dural Kelz turned around. He seized Mark, ramming him into the tile. Mark dropped the trashcan he had been holding, which dumped all over the Dural's pants. It formed a reeking lake around them.

"You foul rat feces!" the PM roared, swinging up his fist to beat Mark's head in.

Jumping on him, Jennifer grabbed the Dural's suit coat to pull him back. "Let him go!"

One of the guards seized her arms and forced her away. The lines shifted again, and she had to watch as the People's Military officer pounded Mark in the stomach. Then Dural Kelz stood back, ordering his guards beat Mark with hot sticks. The guards inside the restroom restrained Brian and Jonathan. The other pressed Darren by the neck into the wall. When they were finished, Mark was left smoking on the bathroom floor.

His friends pulled him up. With no time to clean Mark's wounds except to splash cold water on them, the guards herded the four boys back into the hallway. Jonathan helped lift his friend up. Brian gave Mark his other least sore arm to lean on. They carried him back to their room with a five guard 'escort' then were once again locked inside.

The third day.

Someone finally gave them food. Their guards dropped a tray of packaged cafeteria food inside the door with one bottle of water, then promptly locked the door again.

 All of them were so sore, parched and starved that they stared helplessly at the food one minute and scrambled for it the next. They didn't push or fight for it, but all of them ate what they had quickly, sharing their water with eager swigs. The food was quickly gone. It had been nothing really: old pizza, cold string beans, and a cast-off Jell-O cup. But it was something.

No one came for the empty tray.

Brian got up and walked to the window, peering out at the spring drizzle which on most days would have been sign that his mother would make tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. His mind drifted to home. He wondered what his father and mother were doing, and if they were ok. He wondered how his other brothers and sisters were doing - those in Jr High and Elementary school. Were they captive also? Were they being beaten? Were any dead? 

His eyes followed the dribbles of water that ran down the windowpanes like rivers. His eyes widened. Turning around, he said, "Hey, Jon, give me that bottle."

Jonathan picked up the empty plastic water bottle and walked over to where Brian stood. Sliding the latch up, Brian pushed against the glass, opening the window. They could hear and smell the rain now. The wonderful smell of water drew them all to the window.

Mark pushed past Jonathan, reaching out into the falling rain.

"Go open another window, Mark," Jonathan said, glaring back at him.

Mark moved at once, prying open the next window. It stuck, the paint almost sealing it shut.

"How are you supposed to get water into that bottle, Brian," Jonathan said, watching Brian lift the bottle out into the rain.

Brian pulled his arm back in. "I dunno. I have to try something. I'm parched."

Darren walked to one of the desks and picked up a chair. He carried it over to where Mark had opened his window, collecting raindrops off the glass to wash his face and drink. Placing the chair next to the window, Darren stood on it, stretching toward the upper window that opened vertically. He unlatched it then pushed it open so that it made a sharp angle upward. The inside of the window dipped into the room. The water from the glass immediately ran in rivulets, dribbling straight onto Mark's head.

"Sorry." Darren retreated off the chair and backing away from the now wet wrestler who had never liked him.

Brian's eyes widened. He jerked his arm out of the window and ran to Darren's runoff, shoving his bottle under it.

"That water is dirty, Brian!" Jonathan exclaimed, going after him.

It was brown when it collected in the bottle, but Brian smiled and laughed in a daze. Shaking his head, he glancing at the lanky boy he had once thought as an insane a geek. "It's perfect!"

Jonathan pointed at the brownish water in the plastic container. "It's brown."

Brian frowned at him. "Haven't you ever been a cub scout? It's nature, and it will work."

Darren smiled, pleased with himself.

They wiped the windows down for cleaner runoff, and searched around the classroom for cups or any container they could fill. They dug up one coffee