Anarchy on Earth

~1~

(Above: Map of Brookevale. Jefferson High School is on far right near woods. Large black square. Jack's house is bottom house on far right of the residential  area)

"In the darkness, you could hear the screaming of infants, the crying of women, and the shouting of men. Some wished for death. Other's prayed for rescue, and still more believed that there was no gods left, and the world had been plunged into eternal darkness."

-Pliny the Younger

"Okay people! Begin constructing your machines of war!" Mr. Baker, my 10th grade engineering teacher shouted from 200 meters out of "The Woods" behind Jefferson High School.

That day was a pleasant one, filled with many problems, but hilarious coincidences. In fact, it was one of the last pleasurable days of my life before everything went to hell.

I guess if I had to choose a place to start this story, it would have to be the beginning, as most stories go, and by beginning I mean that day because... well, you get the point.

My name is Jack Smith... well actually it's John Smith, but the last person that called me that was in the 8th grade, and... well... they died. No, not really. I mean, they did die 2 weeks after that, but it was COMPLETELY UNRELATED... heh heh... probably. I'm 16 years old, and I'm in the 10th grade. I have messy brown hair and blue eyes. I live in a house with my mom and little brother Josh, on the edge of a small district called Brookevale in Union City, USA, without my dad, who left us when I was six, so I had to be the man of the house (if I even counted as a man that is). I went to Jefferson High, and had a 5.0 GPA (all A.P classes). At that moment I was in "The Woods" with my best friend, TK Chinn, an olive skinned pro of history, (But not so much engineering) building a catapult for a mock battle for 100 extra credit points. It's a long story on how I got from here to the other side of the country and beyond that in the worst way possible, so why not start here?

"You alright?" I called over to TK as he tried desperately to wedge our support beams into the ground.

"Somewhat." He grunted.

He wiped sweat out of his long black hair, and sighed. "This is making my head hurt."

I jogged over from our traded (probably stolen) GOOD MONTH tires that we bartered from group 3. Our school wasn't very good behavior wise. I'm not saying it's a bad school... oh wait, yes I am. Group three out of four, consisting of *cough* bad kids *cough* James Aries, and Kyle Monroe, traded us a perfectly good set of tires for a phone charger. I probably wouldn't have made the trade if I still had my phone, which James stole from me last month. At least I was getting a backup that day. I helped TK wedge in the support beams. He looked over at our pile of tires, and grinned. "I hope they don't realize the cord you gave them didn't work."

Oh, yeah! Did I mention that? No?

"Attention all groups! I have a supply stack waiting for you outside the woods! Come and get it!" Mr. Baker yelled into the woods.

I looked over at TK.

"We need a bowl to put the launch materials in, and some rope." He told me, looking at our shell of a catapult.

"I'm on it." I said, and turned towards the edge of the woods.

I took off in a sprint, leaping over rocks and logs, heading for the clearing. I could see the outlines of all the other group members running through the woods. Suddenly, I was knocked to the side, all air smashed out of me. My back hit a tree, and I collapsed to the ground. I looked up and saw James running past me, laughing.

"Outta the way, nerd!" He yelled, throwing my phone cable back at me. "Good luck with your petty SCRAPS!"

I groaned, and got to my feet.

"I'm gonna need to buy another first aid kit." I mumbled, looking at a long gash running down my arm from the tree.

I shook my head, and continued my run to the end of the woods, cursing myself because there would be no more supplies when I got to the end. Minor setback. I continued to run through the woods, breathing steam from the cold Falltime air. As I broke out into the scrap pile, I swore underneath my breath. There were only 2 things left. A trash can lid, and some twine. Mr. Baker, with his short gray hair, wiry glasses, and U.S ARMY cap stood a few feet away. I slid to a halt, and grabbed the 2 materials.

"Late as always?" He asked.

"Somewhat." I said, grinning.

He looked at my arm. "What happened?"

"Minor setback."

The corners of his mouth tilted up a bit.

"I suppose you'll find a way."

"I always do."

"My bets are on you, Mr. Smith." He told me, winking.

I nodded, and began to run back to our project.