Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Ten: The Showdown ~4 James

~James~

    Thank God John had persuaded Principal Guns to let us three, John, Jimmy and I have the attic.

    When we were asked to move the folding beds, everything had gone like this:

    Me: Sir, can Miguel and Adrian have the bed up? We’ll get the pillows, please? My back was aching.

    Principal Guns: Why would you have these two boys with you three? Aren’t you crowded yet?

    John: I’ve already told Miguel, sir. Please?

    Principal Guns: So it will be just the five of you?

    Jimmy: Yeah! Alright!

    Well, the principal said nothing afterwards, and that was the time when I’ve actually told Miguel and Adrian. About the reason why I want them to be with us three, I don’t have a concrete reason. Sometimes I get that a lot.

    After getting some sheets and pillows, moved them in the attic, (okay, maybe the experience was tiring enough that it wasn’t enjoyable,) we all just crowded in the common room. Mrs. Guns was either watching some of us play with the console attached to the hidden TV, (clearly the principal didn’t want to deprive us of entertainment, although I can feel that we’re sapping too much electricity,) or was talking to Mr. Riggins and Principal Guns. The three of them we’re having a quiet meeting, with some papers like they were studying some plans.

    “That doesn’t look good,” Jules murmured. He trails off, and the next minute I saw him on the garden with Sam. Ooo, those two were having something, weren’t they?

    That leaves me to have a thing—a productive, or enjoyable thing—to spend my next few hours. I wanted to sleep through dinner, my eyes getting so dry I have to blink more than twice to see things clear. But the house had rules, and it involved about sleeping in the right time. Oh, well. That will not be strictly followed, anyway.

    It seems like my classmates were enjoying their life here; as I watch them play some floor games like good ol’ scrabble, (not much of a choice,) snake and ladders, and their improvised card game, it was certain that they weren’t thinking right now about their life outside here.

    It seems like a year since the plague started, wherein in reality there's no way you can survive something like this—a world like this—without getting your sanity dropping for granted. Assuming nothing will bother everyone of us, this was a perfect life. Mrs. Guns had a small vegetable garden at the back of the house. That can sustain us. About the meat and pork...I'm not sure. Maybe the principal didn't think of that, and will insist on the famous line he popularized at school:

    "Learn to live with what you have, ask for no more, and there'll be no problem."

    Partially correct. I don't know if there's really a way an omnivore of our class can survive living as vegetarians. And to mention, that's just a food problem. Oh God, I really can't tell why I'm so hysterical about things I shouldn't worry about. And a new famous line popped in my head, a line made by Mr. Riggins:

    "Find your problem's solution, and never seek solutions to problems you have no right to solve."

    Okay, I'm now hysterical.

    I try to search for Jimmy and John, but Principal Guns must have seen the gesture.

    "If you are searching for Static and Eddington, I may as well apologize. They are with Quintos. I asked them to ready the transmitter. We're contacting somebody tonight," the principal told me sternly.

    I swallowed, and my eyes followed my path.

    "Who?" I asked, completely diverting  his  mind.

    Mr. Riggins turned to me, and his proverb seems to repeat in my head.

    "It will be a surprise after dinner," answered Principal Guns.

    I don't like surprises.

    So instead, I nodded and ran outside. If I was right, the person that who can answer me was outside with a girl.

    Jules and Sam were seated on the grass near a bush, and from the angle I was standing from, they were concealed from the sight of the principal or our teacher.

    If I was right, Jules can answer me.

    When I was a meter away, Sam must've heard the crunch of fresh grass under my feet. She turned, looking startled.

    "James." Sam looked at me, and smiled. Jules turned, and grinned.

    "Jules?"

    In acknowledgement, he said, "Yes? Oh, I forgot to tell you John and Jimmy went to the attic with Rolcene. My bad."

    Because you're with her, I thought. But I said, "Yeah, Principal Guns told me. And he added something I shouldn't know."

    His brow arched. "What is that something you shouldn't know?"

    I told him about that transmission later at dinner. I was finished, but he didn't seem surprised.

    "'Never seek solutions to problems you have no right to solve,'" Jules quoted. Sam chuckled.

    "We have the right," she protested. "Our lives are tied now to what we are doing."

    "Yeah, I am aware of that," Jules said defensively. "But it's a matter that induces my migraine."

    "Jules!" Sam said. "Excuse this guy, please?"

    I grinned. "What's up, you two?"

    They exchanged looks. A second of silence passes, and it took me five seconds to see their hands, their fingers interlocking at each other.

    "Oh." I sighed.

    "I know you are our friend," Jules said. "And I can't really see it if we're gonna make this out alive together."

    "You mean the plague?" I added.

    He nods. "How about you? What are you worrying about? You look like you're thinking hard of what facial expression you're gonna use."

    I caught myself. I find myself telling him my greatest desire at the moment.

    "What? Why haven't you told the Principal? That you wanted to see them?" Jules said.

    I sighed. "I can't. That's selfish. And what's more, I don't know—or anyone of us—if they're still alive or what. If infected or wounded. Hell, I don't know."

    Sam started patting my back.

    "Dude, that's your parents," Jules countered at me, his hand loosening over Sam's. "For sixteen years you've been believing your parents abandoned you. That's not a small matter."

    I sighed deeper.

    "You want me to tell them? Oh, I thought Nick Riggins suggested that parent-finding to Gregory Guns," said Jules.

    "No, Jules," I finally said. "I'm not ready to know anything yet."

    "Yet you're still wondering about them? I can tell you miss them."

    I looked up at the sky for some answers. I found nothing but the bright noon sky.

    "Yes," I said.

    Sam suddenly stopped patting my back. She yelped.

    "What's wrong?" Jules turned to his girlfriend.

    Sam shakes her head. She ran her hands from my back down to her left thigh. My eyes darted unsettlingly around her. She was curling down, her neck draping down to face her belly. I noticed her light blue leggings she was wearing. Next to where she was pressing her hands, a dark color was seeping into the cloth.

    "She's shot!" Jules yelled. Before I can even see the damage done, or recall anything that passed seconds ago, he carried Sam on his arms, and I followed them as Jules ran inside the house, screaming for help.