Chapter 1
Y’know those days when nothing seems to go right? Well, that was the kind of day I was having when the world ended. I woke up late, my hair was frizzing like crazy, and of course the outfit I wanted to wear was clashing.
My Beetle had a flat tire, so I had to drive my mom’s SUV. It was such a mom car, I almost wanted to take the bus. But, then I’d have smelled like a bus all day, and that’s just gross.
I pulled into the parking lot of Roosevelt High School roughly three minutes before first period started, and had to park in the one of the loser spots at the back of the lot. My cheer bag strap broke halfway across the lot, spilling my workout clothes and makeup bag everywhere. I cussed under my breath, stooping to pick everything up as quickly as possible.
“Here, let me help.” A familiar voice said, right as Maya Reyes dropped to her knees next to me. Maya and I had been best friends in elementary school, practically attached at the hip. By middle school, though, I’d had to cut her off. I was Zoe Clark, head JV cheerleader, blonde, pretty, and popular. Maya Reyes was a band geek, with frizzy brown hair and dull brown eyes. Her clothes were always too big and ugly, and she had glasses that covered half of her face. Girls like her didn’t exist in the same league as girls like me, and to her credit she had taken the distance like a champ.
“Thanks.” I muttered. Together, we managed to get everything back in the overstuffed bag just in time for the final bell to ring. Great, now we were both late. We walked into the office, not quite together but not really apart either, and the secretary smiled coldly at us when we walked in.
“Late, girls?” Mrs. Collins asked, her voice sickly sweet with sarcasm. She hated me, of course, because her daughter Jade considered me her biggest rival. Jade had been convinced she was going to be head cheerleader, but she was totally a hateful hag and the team had voted for me instead. She swore I cheated, and had quit the squad the next day.
“Hi, Mrs. Collins.” Maya smiled at the evil witch. “It’s totally my fault we’re late. I tripped on my way in, and Zoe was helping me pick up my stuff.” It was totally a lie, and I was left standing there stunned. Why would Maya lie to help me? I wasn’t complaining, and I wasn’t going to argue either.
“I see.” Mrs. Collins nodded slowly. “And I suppose you expect me to just write you both a pass to class.”
“We would really appreciate it, Mrs. Collins. I’m late for World History, after all, and as Jade’s tutor I would hate to miss something important.” Maya’s threat was so smooth I almost missed it, but I was impressed. Where had this girl come from?
“Go on then.” Mrs. Collins grumbled, handing each of us a pass and waving her hand dismissively. “Get to class, both of you.” We ran out the door before she could change her mind.
“Thanks, again.” I said, my voice a little louder this time.
“No problem.” She replied, then headed off towards her locker without another word. I went to my own, throwing my bags in and grabbing my things for Algebra.
Of course, we were starting something new in Algebra, and I missed the entire beginning of the explanation thanks to the drama with Mrs. Collins. Great.
I left my hall pass on Mr. Harlan’s desk, pulled out my notebook, and tried to copy what was on the board.
What even was this? Linear equations? Shit, I was already lost. You got this, Zoe. Just write what the board says, it’ll eventually make sense. y=mx+b, got it. Slope = m, y-intercept =b? If it’s the Y intercept, why is it marked with b? What is y?
“Turn to page 319 in your textbooks.” Mr. Harlan instructed, and I realized with a groan I had grabbed the wrong book. Seriously? I had grabbed my English book! “Work on numbers one through ten, and then we’ll go over them as a class.”
I raised my hand, annoyed with the day I was having. “Miss Clark? A question already?” Mr. Harlan sneered. He, like Mrs. Collins, was not overly fond of me because I was a cheerleader and not a mega nerd, like his son Matt.
“I accidentally grabbed the wrong book in my rush to class, Mr. Harlan. Is there any way I can go to my locker and grab the right book?” I asked, as sweetly as I could manage.
“You come to my class late and unprepared, and you expect me to allow you to roam the hallways as you’d please?” Mr. Harlan laughed, but the sound held no humor. “What kind of moron do you take me for?”
I wanted to tell him the truth, that I took him for the kind of moron who expected me to do the work without having my textbook, but I couldn’t afford to get detention today. So, instead, I bit my tongue and smiled at the frustrating little man. “I know it’s very irresponsible of me, Mr. Harlan, but I was trying to get to your class as quickly as I could. It was an honest mistake, and I want to be able to do the work you’ve assigned. My locker is just down the hall, I can be back in five minutes.”
He stared at me for a minute, likely trying to decide if I was being honest or not. His eyes fell to the English book on my desk, and he sighed. “Go, be back in five minutes or it’s detention.” He waved a hand dismissively, and I wasted no time in heading to the hall.
I had fibbed a little, my locker was down a flight of stairs, but I knew I would be back in plenty of time. I took the stairs as quickly as I could in my heels, reaching the bottom in less than a minute. Another ten seconds to my locker, twenty to put in my combination, and-
My phone pinged with a message, and despite the time crunch I pulled it out to check. It was a text from my best friend and fellow cheerleader, Brittani Jones.
POP QUIZ IN WRLD HSTRY
Seriously? Could this day get any worse? I groaned and grabbed my world history book too, since I had study hall after Algebra and could use the time to study. I had just made it to the bottom of the stairs when an announcement crackled over the loudspeaker.
“Attention all staff and students.” Mrs. Collins’s voice rang out in the empty hall, sounding scared. “Effective immediately, we are entering a lockdown mode. All students and staff are to enter the nearest classroom and await further instructions. This is not a drill, I repeat. All staff and students are to report to the nearest classroom, and await further instructions. This is not a drill.”
What? I panicked, unsure what to do. The closest “classroom” was the girl’s locker room, accessible through the hall directly in front of me, but I was supposed to be going back to Mr. Harlan’s room. I froze, standing at the foot of the stairs.
Screams began to reach my ears, coming from down the hall by the front office, followed by shattering glass. What was happening? My immediate instinct was to go towards the sound, and investigate what was happening. I had taken exactly one step towards the commotion when I was stopped by the girl’s gym coach.
“Zoe? What are you doing?!” She whisper-shouted to me. “Get in here!” She was waiting to lock the doors, waving frantically for me to walk in. I didn’t hesitate again, rushing into the hallway as she pulled the doors shut behind me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice sounding strange in the empty hallway.
“I’m not sure. Get into the locker room, go to showers, and get with the others.” She lightly pushed me into the room before locking the door behind us again. She went into her office, grabbinga baseball bat before following me into the locker room.
Our locker room was divided into three sections. When you first entered, you were in the underclassmen locker room. Everyone in their freshman and sophomore years had their lockers in here. Across the room was an open archway, which led to the upperclassmen locker rooms. It looked identical to the underclassmen’s room, save for a row of mirrors by the door. Finally, in the farthest area, the showers sat.
We use the term showers loosely at this school, with nothing but rusting pipes shooting cold water at students. There were no walls or curtains for privacy, and it was often referred to as the prison room. This was where we were hiding, the smell of mold and soap mixing into a nauseating perfume. If I died in the prison room, I was going to be seriously pissed.
I found a seat next to Amber Little, who had been crowned homecoming queen just last month, and sat with my textbooks. Everyone looked as scared as I felt, but the sounds from the hall weren’t able to reach into the locker room.
I’m not sure how long we sat in silence, but it felt like a lifetime. I had left my phone in my locker, not wanting to risk angering Mr. Harlan if it had gone off in his class, so I wasn’t able to text anyone to see what was going on. Was there a shooter in the school? Was it something else, something worse?
A sudden noise caused all of us to jump, with a couple students letting out small screams. Someone was banging on the door to the locker room hall, from the main hallway.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
We all froze, unsure what to do. Coach Lillens poked her head around the corner, a finger pressed to her lips. “I’ll go check,” she mouthed, before disappearing back around the corner.
“What a dumb idea.” Amber muttered next to me. “She’s going to get us all killed.”
“Shhh!” I shushed her, trying to hear what was happening in the hall.
BANG! The door slammed open, followed by a loud scream. “Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
