The Day the World Ended

2 • Carson

Carson

I'm going to be completely honest, which I'm usually not. I'm not a "ladies' man". Casanova. Chick magnet. Those are all words my mom uses to describe me. But when I saw Addison Brown grab my shoulders the day the world (almost) ended, I was certain she was trying to get herself a piece of Carson Stewart. Oh, boy, was I wrong. She wasn't trying to kiss me—no, no. She was trying to bite me. A full on teeth-baring, wide-mouthed, McDonald's double double bite. My first words to her were "Woah, there, I don't think that's how you do it, brother," But she just growled. I suppose she was fussy or something, so I let her be. I walked out of the main hall and saw Thea Johnson running with her arms spread to me like she was Tom trying to catch Jerry. Yet again, I was incorrect. She was trying to attack me. I turned around and ran back inside. There was something wrong with their skin tone. They were turning blue. I figured it must have been a disease or something. Good thing I didn't give into their admiration.

I sprinted down the hallway, collecting more sickly looking people as I ran. Goodness, did they have Carson Fever or something? I was chased into the gym. I turned to the boys' locker room, but Coach was standing in front of it and swiped at my head. Luckily I ducked just in time. I ran down to the girls' locker room.

I am NOT a perv, I swear. I just had to get away from these people. I opened the door and shut it behind me, shutting my eyes tight and putting my hands up to my eyes. "There's a guy in here now, hide!" I called out. There was no answer, no screams, no "ew! Get out, perv!" So I opened my eyes. I figured I should probably hide before soccer practice lets out, so I grabbed the door to the supply closet and pulled on it. It wouldn't open. The door behind me shook. Oh, no. I had to open this door quick.

I put my foot on one of the two supply closet doors and yanked the handle again desperately. Nada. I wiggled the handle and took a step back. This was not going to work. I jumped forward and threw myself at the door. I did not hit the door, but I did hit the ground. I smile in triumph. "Yes—" I started, but I was knocked out by something smacking the back of my head.

It was someone's foot. I realized that when I woke up from unconsciousness. I looked around me. The door was shaking again, except this time I was in the supply closet. I rubbed the back of my head and looked at the two girls in front of me. I recognized them from class; Layla Miller and Blaire Carmichael. These two didn't look sickly at all. I smiled at them and winked. "Hello, Ladies."

I was hit again.

This time, I wasn't knocked out. "Ouch. Thanks for that," I looked up at the two, unsure of who hit me. Layla shrugged.

"No problem."

The door shook again, and I one hundred percent, totally, surely did not jump slightly. I jumped so hard I hit my head on a shelf and knocked a tennis racket on my head. "What are we going to do about that?" I asked the girls, assuming they had a plan, because I did not.

"Erm...right. I don't know. Maybe we should figure that out," said Blaire. Genius. Very brilliant indeed. I looked around. Above me, there was a vent. It seemed pretty cliché to crawl through, but it was the best idea we had. Now I know why so many  people crawl through vents in movies. 

"Hey, guys, what about that vent? Doesn't it lead to the pool?" I asked Layla and Blaire.

"Just a sec, Carson, we're trying to figure something out," Blaire called over me.

"No, dude, I know, but—"

"Hang on, Carson!"

"Layla?"

"Quiet, Carson!"

"Blaire?"

"Just a minute!"

I sighed. Blaire gasped. "I've got it! Doesn't that vent lead to the pool?" I blinked up at Blaire before standing up.

"What a divine observation, Blaire! Truly magnificent. Why didn't I think of that?" Blaire shrugged. I guess she didn't recognize my sarcasm. Maybe I'm just a very joyful person.

Once we got the vent open, Blaire stepped down to boost Layla into the vent. "Ladies first!" I reminded the two girls before I climbed into the vent ahead of them. As I crawled, so very proud of my humor, I heard the door to the supply closet burst open behind me. I stopped crawling to look back behind me. I had to make sure Layla and Blaire had gotten into the vent safely. 

"Keep crawling, Carson!" snapped Blaire. Oh, yeah. They were in the vent alright. There were a few turns, but we eventually reached another opening. I had to hit my shoulder against the vent door enough for it to open, but I ended up falling out anyway. I mean, smoothly backflipping out of the vent.

"See? The pool! I was right!" Blaire exclaimed. She looked so proud of herself.

"Do you want a gold star?" I asked, too quiet for her to fully hear.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I took a look at the pool. The only light in the room were the lights under the water. They were illuminating the sleeping...um...sickies under the water. Let me rephrase that. Under the water, people were sleeping. I don't know how, but they all looked the same as the people that were chasing me. The ones with Carson Fever.

"How are we supposed to get across?" I asked. I assumed we had to cross, because in movies like this, that's what always happens.

"We go around, idiot."

"Blaire, be nice." I was very grateful that Layla cared for me. At least I was being the bigger person. I stuck my tongue out at Blaire. "But yes, we would cross, Blaire. Only...I'm wearing cleats. The ground is wet. I'll slip."

"That sounds like a you problem." Layla narrowed her eyes at Blaire. "Just take them off, then."

"I'll still slip."

"What if you use a floaty to get across? Blaire can go around. She'll take your cleats. You can put them back on when you get across." I was truly a genius. I may not act like one, but I totally am. I definitely have an IQ of 100.

"That's a great idea, Carson!" Yeah, I know. "But I'm totally going to fall. Blaire, will you come with me?" Blaire laughed.

"HAHAHA—no. You got this, Layla!" Layla, with a worried look on her face, bent down to untie her cleats. I felt sorry for her. Then I remembered what an excellent swimmer I am.

"I'll go with you, Layla." She did not look very encouraged by that. Not discouraged, either, though. She took off her cleats. I had to help steady her on the pool floaty, then I pushed it softly across. She was balancing on the floaty pretty well, though. I still had to cross. Easy-peasy!

I made it about halfway. Then the floaty jerked a little and I lost my balance. It's fine, though, no sweat—I just dunked my foot in. The sleeping sickies started to wake up, though. Layla and Blaire exchanged panic looks. I got to the other side of the pool and hopped off. The people in the pool started to float to the top, like when you hold a rubber ball under the water and it bobbles up to the surface.

"Eeewww," I let out, obviously at the wrong time.

"We should...um," started Blaire, but Layla interrupted her.

"RUN!"