Survival Inc.

Chapter One

I take a deep breath a grab some scissors. I need this A. It was bad in Freshman year, and I know I have to get better grades and work harder if I want to do college credit plus. I cut through the three pieces of construction paper and hand the perfect shapes to the first grade girl, who smiles at me and skips off.

"Nash, dear, your allotted time here is done. The bus back to the high school is leaving in ten, I'd gather your things so you don't miss it," Ms. Kara says and turns back to her young students.

I think for a moment on what to say, but shake my head and grab my backpack from the desk, whisking myself out the door. I speed walk to the back door and into the parking lot, over to the large blue and red bus.

After the stomach-turning, twenty minute ride to my high school, I head straight to fifth period, for me that's French. Everyone glances at me as I enter, but don't care much, and turn away. And then the screams started. Not like the 'I just saw a monster on a horror movie' scream, or the 'Jared just kissed Harmony, and that was totes unexpected' scream.

No, it was the scream of pure pain and agony. Like you were being slowly stabbed through the shoulder, not that I would know. I'm just guessing. But I feel like that's how you'd scream.

"What the frick was that?!" Marley, the brattiest girl in our grade, exclaims.

The scream rings out in the hallway yet again, and a stampede of footsteps, as well as a sudden gunshot that freaks me out. I look around and find that the teacher has run out into the hall to see what was going on, and is now out of sight. More screams emit from outside the classroom, this time it seems like they're closer.

"Whatever it was, and whatever is causing those screams, I doubt we want to know. Lock the door and put the barricade in, then go out the window!" I order, and to my surprise, people actually listen... but don't shut up.

"Are we going to die?"

"What about the people out there?"

"We don't have weapons!"

"I don't know! But we have to get out of here, and quick! I don't want to be here when whatever caused those screams comes banging on our door, so come on, unless you want to be the first to find out," I command and open all the windows, thankful that this is the first floor.

We go through the now-open windows in a panic, and sprint away from the school in a scared quick pace. We go into the silent football stadium, hoping for the best as we lock the entrance gates and move things in front of them.

Soon, we're on the actual field, panting from both fear and the hard sprint we just did. It's about a 100 meter dash from the school to the stadium, and if you've ever sprinted hard for even that short of a distance, let me tell you, it is tiring no matter what.

"Nash..." a voice says from behind me and I see that the group of annoying jocks in our class decided to come as well.

"What?" I ask impatiently, looking around for any ideas on what to do.

"My girlfriend-" he says and I look at him.

Brandon Thomas, Marley's boyfriend. It'll be so wonderful to hear this.

"What about her?" I ask and he gives me a nasty glare.

"She cut her hand on the fence when helping barricade it, do you know where we could find some first aid supplies?" he asks and I frown, thinking.

"Yeah, I'll go grab some..." I say, guilt tugging on my conscience at how rude I was.

The locker rooms are built into the bleachers, and there's a 'tunnel' directly in the middle leading to them. Our team's locker room is on the side closest to the school, and the away team's is on the opposite side. The 'tunnel' in the middle leads to a pair of big doors with a chain and padlock on them. Sighing, I look for anything useful I could use to break that.

Or the key lying on the ground, it's shiny surface letting the dim light glint off it. I pick the key up and insert it into the lock, then turn it. The padlock's top unlocks and I tug it off, then pull the chain off as well. The doors are pretty easy to open after that.

I run down the hallway and into the open doorway into the actual locker room itself. After searching the room for a first-aid kid, I finally find one in the rolling table marked, get this, 'first aid', and as I go to leave the locker room, I find that there are large bags on every hook in the open lockers.

"Guys, come in here!" I yell down the hallway and soon am surrounded by my classmates.

"Okay, what is it? Did you find me a first-aid kit?" Marley asks and I roll my eyes.

Guilt is gone.

"Yeah, I'll take care of your hand in a moment. Everyone, grab a bag, I'm pretty sure we'll have just enough. Put a jersey, a jacket, and whatever food you find in that particular locker into your bag, then come over here to grab a first aid kit, there's a bunch," I say and people start shuffling around, only taking orders from me for they don't know what else to do. It's not every day that you hear the pained screams of your friends ring out in the halls.

Taking Marley's wrist, I pull her over to the rolling table and put her hand on the towel resting on it, then open the first aid kit I have and get out some hydrogen peroxide on it. She gasps in pain and I roll my eyes, pressing the towel on the shallow cut, and repeat another two times before putting some antibacterial cream on it, then apply one of the big band-aids.

The cut was shallow, but took up half her palm, and I understand why she gasped in pain when I put the hydrogen peroxide on it. Long cuts usually sting when you clean them, no matter if they are shallow or not.

"We need to get out of here, fast," I say and people nod to me, others just don't say anything, looking around in a shocked-sick way.

It's time to get out of here and get help. We can't stay here any longer. Whatever was in our school was killing people, and if even the gunshot didn't stop them, I doubt much things will.