Book of Horror Stories

Spring Flu

The spring flu had been going around the school like usual, but some people were sicker than normal. They didnt just have fever and headache – their faces were blotchy, their eyes bulged, and they all wheezed like theyd just run up ten flights of stairs without stopping. Cara McCormack was the first one who was really serious, though. I had the pleasure of being in bio with her when she opened her mouth to answer a question, but vomited a fountain of blood instead.

She was only the first. Pretty soon, classes were being constantly interrupted by students turning ashen and sprinting out the door, trying to make it to the bathroom before everything came up. The nurses office was flooded with wheezing, puking, fainting patients in a matter of hours. Of course, this being 1991, we didnt have the option of calling parents to pick us up – going to the nurse was the only option. We didnt know yet the nurses calls to the outside werent going through, and at that point, no one cared, because halfway through lunch, someone walked into the boys bathroom and found Paul Maschhoff lying dead in a puddle of blood and vomit. Unsurprisingly, all hell broke loose.The panic was indescribable. All pretenses of having classes stopped. Teachers herded us into the gym, but it was impossible to get 700 terrified teenagers to sit quietly when their friends could be dying. Meanwhile, people were still getting sick. I remember gingerly patting someones back as she wheezed and tried to catch a breath, imagining that I could see plague germs crawling on her sweater, up my arm, and swarming over my skin. I jerked my hand away, and immediately felt terrible for being so callous.

Just then, a handful of teachers filed back into the gym, wearing lab coats borrowed from the science department. The makeshift masks that covered their mouths and noses transformed them from teachers wed known for years into nameless robots. They corralled us into lines and called students up one by one. After a hasty examination – no stethoscopes, no thermometers, just a quick once-over – kids were sent outside, or to the back of the gym. In, out, in, in, in, out, out, out. They were separating us, sick from healthy.

As I drew closer to the front of the line, I suddenly felt a hand squeeze mine and practically jumped out of my skin.

Chill out, its just me, a voice whispered. I relaxed slightly at the sight of my best friend Katie, but her pinched, worried face had me concerned all over again. Are you sick? she asked nervously, her eyes searching my face.

I dont think so, I said, realizing that I hadnt even stopped to think about that all day. I ran through a mental checklist: Chills? No. Fever? No. Wheezing? No. Uncontrollable vomiting? Obviously not. I guess Im safe for now. How are you? Are you –

Next! a masked teacher barked, beckoning me up to the front of the line. I meekly stepped up and opened my mouth as instructed. Auditorium, he said brusquely, checking something off on his clipboard.Why are we going to – I began, but he cut me off without meeting my eyes.

Auditorium, now!

I slinked off and tried to wait for Katie, but another teacher snapped at me to move along. I stopped and gaped at him. It was my physics teacher, Mr. Claeys, who had seen me every single day for two years, and now he wouldnt even look at me.

Mr. Claeys? Whats going on? I asked, immediately embarrassed by how squeaky and terrified my voice came out. Why arent we being sent home? Where are the sick kids going? Why –

I cant tell you anything. Just get to the auditorium, he snapped. I gaped at him. What the hell was going on?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katie emerge from the doors, and I felt weak with relief. At least we were still together. We hustled off to the auditorium, where groups of students were huddled together, glancing around wildly every time someone entered the room, looking for their friends. Masked teachers stood around the walls and hushed us every time someone spoke.