Fortune Favors the Brave

🩸Chapter One: The Intercom 🩸

⚠️ TW: swearing, gore, blades, violence, graphic depictions, death, weapons ⚠️

I can't even remember how it happened. It all came so fast. I sat in Science, doodling on my green Converse in Sharpie, when our teacher started rapidly shutting all the windows and blinds. She looked... scared. Afraid, even. Like she'd seen a ghost or something. Most of the students didn't notice until the lighting of the room changed from all the windows closing. Our teacher, Ms. Barlowe, kept refreshing her computer, gasping every few minutes.

I could barely make out what she was looking at, based on the reflection on her glasses. I could tell she was in her email.

Then the intercom went on and our vice principal started speaking, "Um, Attention all students and staff, do not panic," The words 'Do not panic' sent chills down my spine. "Staff if you haven't already, please check your emails. Students who have mobile devices, please text your families 'I love you.'"

He sighs and we can hear his breath on the microphone. "All staff please report to the staff conference room immediately. Before exiting the room, please confirm that you have closed, locked, and boarded all windows, exits, etc."

I looked around the room. Some students had their mouths agape in shock. Others were slightly shaking their heads in disbelief. A few were crying into their friend's shoulders.

I sat there, numb, wishing I could think of an emotion to feel in this moment.

The intercom made a beeping sound and the vice principal said one last sentence, "Fortune favors the brave." Then the intercom went out.

Fortune favors the brave.

I stood up and walked over to the nearest window and peered through the blinds. I gasped and lost my balance, stumbling backward. What was that?

Ms. Barlowe gets our attention, "Students, they don't want me to tell you this but I am because I want you all to survive. The apocalypse is happening. Hundreds of mutated creatures surround the building. If you leave, you will be killed."

She walked over to each student and gave each of them a hug and whispered something in their ear. When she made it to me, she hugged me and said in my ear, "In the closet, top shelf, there's a gun. It's loaded and there's ammo next to it. I took it from a student earlier last year. He gave me $50 to not tell."

My breath hitched.

She pulled back from the hug and smiled a weak smile. She turned and exited the room, leaving the door ajar.
3 months later

I lace my green Converse up and draw my hair back into a ponytail using a shred of a flannel. I look in the cracked mirror. I trace the bags under my eyes with my fingers.

It's been three months since the Dark Days began—the apocalypse. We've claimed our science class as our territory. Anyone who enters who's not one of us is killed. We can't take any risks.

There's a total of 15 of us. We're a smaller class but we're on the stronger side. We've had two fatalities. A girl and a boy, Jess and Lola. They went to get food from the cafeteria and fought with another class. Mr. Valz's Social Studies class. They made spears out of wooden desk legs and knives from the cafeteria. Myley and Connor went to check on them after they weren't back in 20 minutes and found them speared, bleeding on the floor.

Myley broke down into tears at the sight of her best friend, choking on his own blood. Connor was numb. He said he felt nothing but anger towards the perpetrators. He wanted them dead.

They raided the kitchen and got some food and the remaining knives and silverware. We made spears, bows, and arrows, and we already had a gun. We rarely use it though. We don't want the others to find out we have it and massacre us on sight. Or when we're defenseless.