Eridanus ~ A Collection Of Short Stories

A Night of Secrets

"Yes, mom. All my friends and teachers are here. It's completely safe!" I said persuasively over the phone, trying to mask the noise of the class in the background. The snowstorm outside had been unprecedented and the school has done the one thing they perceived as a safe step – declare a lock-in for the students and staff. Nobody would have voluntarily stepped out anyway, with the obvious risk of becoming a living ice cube. Naturally, my parents were worried about my safety and the fact that we'd be staying at school for the night.

I finally managed to convince my mother that we were perfectly safe here, and I wouldn't be alone. Secretly, the prospect of having your friends for company the whole night did seem fun. My parents had to relent, having been assured that there really wasn't much else they could do, with the howling gale and heavy snowfall outside.

As I hung up, I heard the low chatter of the other students talking on their phones, explaining the situation to their parents.

"Think it'll be fun? A night at school?" My friend, Mia, asked as she took a seat next to me. I looked at her with a slight grin on my face.

"It's almost like an overnight camp, so maybe," I answered with a casual shrug. As the rest of my friends hung up with their parents, the teachers motioned for us to be seated.

Miss Cruz spoke up. "Well, this was quite unprecedented," she started off with a nervous laugh. "The school authorities have informed all your parents  about the situation. We're perfectly safe inside school and there's nothing to worry about. The cafeteria will be open till nighttime and the only thing that may be a slight inconvenience would be sleeping in the auditorium." 

Some students chuckled. The only class present today was high school, so there wouldn't be any little kids to annoy us. The auditorium was the least of our problems.

"You can all amuse yourselves in any way you please, without disrupting the class," Miss Cruz continued. A low buzz of conversation broke out. With so much of time on our hands, I wondered what we'd do at school.

Jack and Adrian joined Mia and me in a corner of the class. "So," Adrian started. "How d'you reckon we amuse ourselves?"

None of us had any great ideas. Mia quipped, "We could go to the cafeteria and get something to eat." There was a moment's contemplation. I approved, as I was hungry already. Besides, the cafeteria was always an interesting place, and we could never get bored there. Adrian shrugged.

"Sure," he agreed, as did the rest of us. We trooped up to Miss Cruz's table and asked her for permission to leave the class. She nodded in affirmation, not looking up from her paperwork.

The walk down the stairs was uneventful, but we couldn't deny the slight thrill coursing through our veins at the prospect of spending a whole night at school.

The cafeteria was almost deserted, which was a change from the deafening chaos that usually ensued there. The windows were frosted over, and all that met our eyes outside was a white blizzard. Ordering four sandwiches, the four of us took a seat at a small table.

Jack took a bite of his vegetable sandwich and broke the silence among us. "I've heard German's a tricky language to learn," he remarked, apparently giving some thought to it. "Any of you ever studied German?" he enquired, looking around at us.

I shrugged. "I'm struggling with French as it is," I remarked.

"Nope, I haven't really tried learning it" Mia answered, chewing her sandwich.

Adrian chuckled. "The only German word I know is Die Rebellen," he said with a grin. We burst out laughing. Die Rebellen was a secret organisation of mercenary agents who had operated at the time of Hitler. Some believed that Die Rebellen still existed, but was underground. This was one part of our history textbook that actually intrigued us, due to the simple fact that it involved a number of secrets.

"The mercenary group was founded in 1935, right?" Mia asked, putting down her sandwich. Jack shook his head.

"1933 actually," he stated.

I frowned. "The textbook says 1935," I argued.

"But Miss Cruz said it was 1933!" Jack countered.

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Miss Cruz can't really argue with the textbook, Jack," he spoke up.

I smirked. "Our teachers really love arguing with the syllabus," I mused. The three chuckled. It was true. Just last week, our geography teacher, Miss Schneider, had argued with the textbook, saying that Die Rebellen had operated from Berlin, and not from Austria as the book stated.

Later, our chemistry teacher, Mr Schol, had disagreed with the textbook that said the mercenaries used cyanide for murders.

"Arsenic is what they mostly used," he had said to them.

Mia smirked. "Our teachers are experts on Die Rebellen," she said in mock admiration.

Forty minutes later, Jack stood up restlessly. "And I'm bored already," he declared. "There's nothing to do here. Anyone interested in game of chess or something?" he asked the three of us, stretching himself.

We agreed unanimously, needing something to keep us busy. We couldn't run out of things to do once when found them, we were sure. But the task was to first find things to do.

Exiting the cafeteria, we trudged down the stairs to the ground floor of the school, heading to the sports equipment room. 
Our janitor usually never lets anyone in without good reason, and nobody really was in the mood for a strong reprimand about "misplacing the rooks of the chessboard."

Today, however, he was nowhere to be seen. Adrian pushed open the door silently, leading us inside.

We scanned the room in different directions, looking for anything that seemed interesting. Just as I found a good chessboard, I heard Mia's voice.

"Look what I found!" she whispered, beckoning to us. I knew it wasn't a chess board.

As we assembled behind her, she gestured to the wall behind the board games' shelf. There was a two-foot gap between the wall and the shelf, and on the wall was actually a door, concealed by yellow paint. "Let's go exploring" Jack whispered excitedly. I looked at the others' faces, betrayed by curiosity.

Our boldness eventually took over and we followed our friend as he slowly pushed the concealed door open. It swung open soundlessly, as though it was used everyday. A narrow flight of stairs was revealed in the dim light as we walked through the door.

Jack turned on his phone's flashlight, prompting us to do the same. Reaching the stairs in about five paces, we took cautious steps down, hearts racing. A secret stairway in our school sports room was certainly thrilling.

We finally made it to the basement after descending twenty steps or so. The basement was a dimly lit room. The moment we set foot into the room, the lights came on.

All four of us immediately crouched low, hiding behind a table nearby. The room was deathly silent, and there was no sign of anyone looking for us. "Pressure sensors?" Adrian whispered, glancing at us. That might have been it.

After we had calmed down a bit, I nervously got to my feet, the others behind me. In the bright light, the room looked like a high-tech office of some secret organisation. Like the ones we saw in movies. Hologram screens, blueprints and documents were strewn over desks that covered the room. We couldn't believe that all this was under our very school.

We spread out quietly, taking in our surroundings. As I shuffled past a desk, a blue records book caught my eye. I moved in for a clear look and my eyes grew wide in surprise as I studied the logo on the book. Two crossed knives, with the name 'Die Rebellen' read below.

We were in the headquarters of the mercenary secret organisation. The very organisation of agents we had studied about in our textbooks.

I opened the records book after a quick signal to the others to see what I had unearthed. The pages rustled as I flipped through the booo. Its contents left me speechless.

Inside were records of our teachers – Miss Cruz, Miss Schneider, Mr Schol – and even our janitor, Mr Vaugn. There photographs and personal details were recorded along with the seal of Die Rebellen.

Mia's words echoed in my mind. "Our teachers are experts on Die Rebellen..."

No. They weren't experts on the organisation.
They were members of it.