Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Ten: The Showdown ~5 John

~John~

Dinner came.

The dinnertable had been unpleasantly quiet...and vacant. On the chairs where Jules, Sam, Camille, and Jimmy should've been sitting were the others who haven't gotten the chance to eat on the table. For our number, some of us were eating on the common room.

Jules was on the attic, probably sleeping over his headache and anger, and Camille and Jimmy were outside, endlessly taking turns of being quiet. Jimmy must have been letting his anger pass out. Better he didn't hurt Jules, and vice versa. That could've made the issue worse.

Prince was whispering over my left ear on what happened a while ago when we're gone attending to Sam. God, you should've seen her face, going pale, clammy, and...lifeless. But still, she had a pulse, and Principal Guns was confident she's on a state of her natural body defense. Coma, probably. Mrs. Guns was more sure that her bleeding stopped. But then, no one could've gotten the bullet yet. Mr. Riggins attempted to trace the trajectory, but then realized there's no sense of finding where it came from when no one saw anything. It's as if the bullet came from nowhere. And besides, they reside to the fact the bullet was foreign.

Principal Guns' face couldn't have gotten more stressed. Dark circles under his eyes were forming, and his eyes were droopy as he talks and chews his food. Yes, our college applications had been a pain in his neck, but this one's worse. What's more, he doesn't even want to know why Jules and the others weren't around.

The whole house was painstakingly quiet, yet not at peace. Yes, that's an oxymoron.

I wished everything had been a dream. If the starting point at the school's apocalypse can't be an option, maybe Sam getting shot was the perfect spot to clear out of history. I wished it never happened. Partly. It made a gap between friends, and another gap between Jimmy and others. I swear now that they think Jimmy's going insane. Except Camille, of course.

The other part of me thinks this was the right thing to happen. Because of that, we've been restricted to spend more time outside. Principal Guns mentioned that the house is safe. We're warned.

After finishing dinner, we flood in the common room to listen to any sermon or talk, if there was any. But thankfully, Principal Guns had been tired enough that he immediately went up to their room. It's Mr. Riggins who stayed with us.

God, that teacher of us was impressive. Not that I haven't noticed his good deeds before, but now I realized how much of an importance he is to us now. Or how we are of much importance to him now. We rarely talk for personal matters, and I can't believe I had been an unexpressive student before.

Oh. Why am I saying all of this.

The only reason I can think about was the fact life was really quick. That's all.

Mr. Riggins sat on the center single sofa comfortably. We sat on the cold floor cross-legged. That wasn't an issue, right?

"It's right of letting the two go on separate ways at this time," he began. "What was Static talking about?"

"He suggests of getting away from here," Gray answered. "Of transferring to other places."

Mr. Riggins scowled. Maybe he had the opposition. "Well, that was a new one."

Some jaws dropped.

"But you see, we question our security upon Sam's accident, but then you all have to realize this was the most bearable we can have at the time," Mr. Riggins said. "If you will all want to go, then I will go. I'll stick with the kids I've been dedicated onto. But still, I don't approve the craziness."

I heaved a sigh. James looked at me with such an anguish face. How come, in the whole times we've been together, when we ultimately need each other, something comes out of the blue. I know everything will pass, yet I don't know when. I don't know when will Jimmy and Jules will get along with each other.

Or maybe when we're dead.

I look around, and they all had the same puppy look. Maybe they were touched by Mr. Riggins. Yeah, I'm not a good student to him sometimes, but now I can't tell.

"But sir, haven't you discussed with Principal Guns about where that bullet probably came?" asked Miguel, sounding concerned.

Mr. Riggins brushed his chin. "From that question, I'm afraid you'll give up your hopes at the moment," he said with a cryptic look. "We can't take the bullet out. That's what makes her situation critical. And then we can't say where the bullet came."

"I mean, real zero, sir?" Miguel asked.

He nods. "But our initial guess was it came three hundred degrees. Airplane direction."

When we've actually heard that, some of us grunted. Trigonometry. Seriously, a Literary Arts teacher talking about headache-inducing topic?

"Yes, I've taken up Applied Physics, but ended up being an English teacher," Mr. Riggins quickly followed. He was conscious about the topic.

And then, we were lost from the focus.

"How come, sir?" Rolcene butted in. "You would've been interesting to watch as a Math teacher."

Mr. Riggins gave him a cursing, grave look.

"Just kidding," Rolcene murmured, and hid himself away from Mr. Riggins' sight.

"That was beside the point," muttered Mr. Riggins. "The front doors are facing east. So we can say that the trajectory came from...northwest? Probably."

James gasped.

"Yes, Stan, what can you say?" Mr. Riggins snapped at him, beaming while waiting for his expected answer."

"You mean...they are coming back for us?" James said.

Mr. Riggins grinned. "Well, that was your hypothesis, James."

James looked unsatisfied. Just as we are. Not because we've shifted from Math to elementary Science, but because of the cliff-hanger. I hate it. Keeping things from you.

Leo suddenly yawned when we've turned quiet.

"Sorry," he said.

Mr. Riggins looked at him in distaste. "Okay, grab all your eyes and start to make forty winks. Leo here is waiting for all of you."

* END OF CHAPTER TEN *