Soul Survivor

Chapter 2

Oh dear. This is not good. I don't know how to deal with people. Especially if they're panicked and asking questions. A group of them stand in a line, bordering the room. All have their eyes trained on the windows. I stare at the door and the flickering fires blur into fuzzy orange spots of light. They grow and shrink and flinch in my vision. My foot creeps forward and crunches on glass which scatters the carpet. The noise snaps me out of my daydream like a slap around the face and I take a deep breath. "Everyone watching the back windows -" I announce, "When Group 1 gives the signal help out the injured."

Everyone nods in unison like hypnotised soldiers. At that moment a shout and a wave of the hand gives the signal for Group 2. I watch on as a sea of students file out. Jane hauls Sammie into her arms. She is heading towards the back windows when I abruptly grab her forearm. She halts and our eyes lock. "I'll come after you. I'll find you and help Sammie get home." I promise. "I know you will. See you on the other side." She replies with a grin. I let my hand fall and they disappear into cracked glass and reaching hands.

It's up to me now.

They were the last of their group. A voice gives me a jump. "Hey... Good luck." A girl with a long ginger plait says. I nod once. With pursed lips I reply, "Yeah, thanks... You too." She smiles and walks away nervously. Her blank eyes are unnerving and send a shiver down my neck; glazed over like she lives in a world of her own.

A hand waves. Some people from my group start climbing out the windows. The rest gather at the wall, awaiting their turn. Voices surround me, speech merges into white noise. The people around me are like one desperate creature - a writhing lump of mass. Like an octopus squeezing through a hole three times as small as itself. I hesitate. Last time there was a shout which accompanied the hand, but it was absent this time. Something is wrong. I feel it in my gut. Wrenching me away from the mound of warm bodies and towards the centre of the classroom.

My ears pick up a sound. It's rhythmic... multiple contributors increase the volume. It sounds like drums or... marching. An engine. Breaks scream. "EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" I yell as loud as I can. My voice is wheezy and most people don't hear me.

Gunfire launches into the craze.

I lurch onto the floor and tip over a table. Dragging it in front of me and flattening my chest on the floor, I watch as heads bob and fall from the crowd. A bullet soars through the table near the top. This is a flimsy shield. Wood splinters rain over me. Slowly, I press my fingertips into it and start inching towards the side the gunfire is emitting from.

Little by little, I shuffle along. Foot, arm, foot, arm. Chanting in my head, trying to keep as close to the ground as possible. I am midway when I smell something. It smells like sulphur. I know what sulphur smells like because of the pyrotechnics on stage. I love theatre. Dance, music, drama - it doesn't matter. If there is a stage I'll perform.

The distinctive eggy stench wafts through the room. I know this is bad news. The guns take a break. Only the sound of whimpering and whispering is left. What do I know about sulphur? Why would this room smell when the entire science block was destroyed? I watched it explode and collapse to a fiery end. It was there where the staff kept all the supplies of gas and acid and metals. So why?...

I flashback to Corby Theatre. My last dance show. They had fire spurting out at the front of the stage. As a drape of burgundy material swirled around me a thin layer of smoke carpeted my feet, which were moving quickly. A BANG! above me set off a confetti cannon and silver triangles floated down, copying the swaying in my arms. The audience was full: sold out. Me and the confetti drifted to centre stage. I can still remember the movements, spiralling down, rolling into an intricate network of limbs, unfolding delicately only to swoosh to the back. The ending. I bobbed into position and bowed. An explosion filled the theatre with a roar of cheers... and sulphur.

Damn! I step back into reality. They're going to blow up the school. A small metal canister bounces on the floor in the middle of the room. It releases a dark blue smoke. What is that? It starts to fill the room, swirling and writhing like it has a conscience. I breath in the fog. It fills my lungs, my throat dries up and I begin to cough. I need to escape this ocean of mist. I begin to crawl in the direction of the door when I remember the fire. It glows like a warm ray of summer sun, shining through water. Its warmth beckons me. So inviting, so tempting. Reaching out to me through the darkness. My eyelids begin to droop while I crawl towards it. I'm so focused on the fire I don't look where I am going. My hand lands on something and I slip to the floor. In the firelight I can see my palm is covered in red. To my side is a body. "Hello...?" I whisper. "Are you alright? Are you... alive?" I spot a long plait of hair drooping over the persons shoulder. That girl...

I turn over her head to reveal those empty eyes. I didn't think it was possible but they are even more vacant than when she was alive. There's a bullet wound in her neck that drained her of life. My breathing quickens.

My ears listen out for movement. Nothing. I drag myself to my feet. The heavy fog is slightly lighter at the windows so I head for daylight. I can barely see. Reaching out my hands, I trip over tables and glass and corpses. Like a drunkard staggering home from the pub. My fingers hit something and a sharp pain digs into my flesh. It must be the window. One leg at a time, I slowly climb over the windowsill and out into the world. Navy smoke pours from the windows of the classroom.

At that moment a chink lets me know someone has reloaded their gun. They fire and I hear the bullet ping off something metal. It sparks and the whole building ignites. A blue explosion of fire and shrapnel sends me soaring through the air. My torso smacks the ground and knocks the air out of my lungs. I can't breathe. Gasping, I pull myself into a sitting position. Aching coats my entire body.