Death's Little Angels Read online

  The door swung open with such force that it sounded like a gunshot. The principal, Dr. Bradford, interrupted Tarynn’s prayers and everyone’s else thoughts as he rushed through the door. His head glistened under the lights with sweat. His pupils were dilated and face drenched with fear. The principal’s dry lips trembled with terror.

  “Mrs. Westwood, I… I need you to keep everyone in this classroom. We have an emergency situation taking place right now. Do not leave this room no matter what you may hear, until I come over the intercom authorizing you to do so. Our intercom system is currently down.” Dr. Bradford turned to leave before Mrs. Westwood stopped him.

  “What about the hurricane drill? Hurricane Angel is expected to make landfall at any moment.” Mrs. Westwood looked towards the window at the weather worsening by the minute. The high winds were making a sound like a whistling train. “It’s too dangerous to stay in the classroom. Our safety is at risk.”

  “After what I just witnessed…. Hurricane Angel will be the least of your worries. No time to explain,” Dr. Bradford said grasping for each breath, “Do not leave! No matter what! I must go and warn the other staff!” With that the principal powerfully slammed the door.

  Sue Ellen stood up. “Mrs. Westwood, what if it’s a terrorist attack? Or a student who lost their collection of marbles and brought a gun to school? Shouldn’t we lock the door?”

  The vivid memories of the school shooting last year in California brought chilling fear to Drew’s bones because there was no where to hide in the classroom. It was an open blanket space minus the desks. He pondered over where they would take cover if needed.

  “Yes, go ahead and lock the door but everyone else stay seated,” Mrs. Westwood directed.

  Mrs. Westwood pondered over what was going on. If there was someone out there shooting the other students and staff she needed to know. Not only was the safety of her students at risk but that of her unborn child. She picked up her cell phone to dial the front office with the intention that the secretary would answer. Mrs. Westwood desperately waited for the front office to pick up. The call rung for what it seemed like eternity. No one answered. She tried the front office again. Mrs. Westwood watched, attentively, as Sue Ellen slowly made her way back to her desk. After four phone calls to the front office, and no answer, Mrs. Westwood went back to the door to sneak a peak out of the window in an effort to see if she could view anything.

  Drew licked his lips slowly and for once did not have Sue Ellen on the brain. Where was McKenzie? Did some kid grow tired of being bullied and came to school this morning to take it out on everyone? For some strange reason an instinct to survive kicked in. Drew knew that whatever was outside those doors would soon be threatening to make its way in.

  Chapter 2

  Hickory dickory dock

  The child ran up the block

  It won’t be long

  His hunger grows strong

  Hickory dickory dock

  This was no ordinary hurricane drill. The students sat solemnly in their desks as they watched Mrs. Westwood pace the floors back and forth. She held her cell phone high up in the air in an attempt to get a signal. Drew over heard the teacher mumble to herself, I have never had a problem with reception. What is going on out there?

  All of a sudden, the door thundered loudly like before when Dr. Bradford had bolted into the classroom. Mrs. Kissing, the English teacher, ran into the door and desperately tried to open it. The unexpected sight of the crazed appearing teacher caused Mrs. Westwood to jump back grasping her stomach.

  “Open the door! Please! Oh my God, help us!” Mrs. Kissing frantically yelled.

  The desperation in her voice sent chills through the already hormonal Mrs. Westwood. She ran to the door to unlock it as the students in the classroom sat dumbfounded and on edge. Mrs. Kissing ran into the classroom accompanied by a dark haired Mexican girl, Josefina Torrez and a rail thin, stringy haired blonde Karley Richardson. They were all covered with red dots. Drew, observing the situation, knew that this was not going to be good news at all.

  “Hey! What is that girl doing in here?” A dark skinned black girl, with blond high lights, stood up out of her desk. She pointed at Josefina Torrez.

  “Que pasa? Pendeja! I am no longer afraid of you, Cookie Rogers! I am tired of running. So, come on! Bring it!” Joesfina bowed up at Cookie as she stood behind Mrs. Kissing. Cookie became bold and walked up towards Josefina. Mater jumped up and put a hand on Cookie’s chest halting her.

  “All you eat is tacos! Dat’s why yo breath stank like rotten beans!” Cookie blasted. Some of the students snickered.

  “I am allergic to most Mexican food, pendeja loca! At least I don’t have to put my hair on lay-a-way!” Josefina cracked at Cookie as she swayed and flipped her long, thick strands. Most of the students responded with Oooo’s and giggles after Josefina’s verbal thrashing.

  “My weave cost more than that raggedy trailer you live in!”

  “Mi barrio looks better than that slum hole you call the projects!”

  Mater continued to hold onto Cookie’s arm.

  “Get your hands off me!” Cookie shouted at Mater. “This girl thinks she looks better than every one. She is always stealing people’s boyfriends and it’s about time I set the records straight!” Mater did not back down and grabbed Cookie’s arms before she had a chance to lunge at Josefina.

  “Cookie Rogers!” Mrs. Westwood yelled. “If you don’t sit down this instant, I will have you in alternative school for the rest of the year and you can kiss any hopes of a basketball scholarship goodbye! Josefina, one more word out of you…. Consider your student visa, revoked!” Mrs. Westwood grabbed her belly. The onset of stomach pains began.

  Cookie quickly retreated back to her desk with her shoulders slumped. Drew glanced at Mater who pulled her long French braid to the side. Mater was always the diplomat in tense situations. Josefina breathed heavily in and out, never removing her eyes from Cookie Rogers. Cookie narrowed her eyes at Josefina in a threatening manner before sitting down at her desk.

  A loud thud from the corner of the classroom brought everyone’s attention to the rail thin Karley Richardson who had accompanied Mrs. Kissing and Josefina. Mrs. Kissing was attending to Karley who had collapsed on the floor. Drew frowned as he observed the scene. Karley looks like a heap of bones, he thought silently, what were they running from? The sound of Josefina’s voice brought Drew back to reality.

  “Cookie, there are bigger monsters outside that door that you are going to need to save your energy to fight…. If we survive this, you can fight me then.”

  Josefina’s long jet-black hair swayed more than halfway down her back. She was cute with an exotic look and had a thick Mexican accent. All the Junior High boys had a crush on her, including Cookie Roger’s boyfriend, Bolton Black. Black so happened to be the running back on the football team.

  “What on earth happened to you?” Mrs. Westwood brought her attention back to the trio that sought refuge in her classroom.

  She noticed the blood stains on Mrs. Kissing’s clothes, Joesfina’a hair, and Karley’s face. Mrs. Kissing was currently trying to arouse Karley by gently patting her face. Mrs. Westwood slowly knelt down to examine the student.

  “What is wrong with Karley? It looks like the child has not eaten in months.” Mrs. Westwood touched her co-worker’s shoulder gently. “Mrs. Kissing? Why do you have blood all over you? What is going on out there?” Mrs. Westwood had a sense of urgency in her voice that stirred the students in the class. She looked up and over the desk to calm the students. “Class, settle down please. We have a student that is in need of medical attention.”

  “Does that explain the blood splatters?” Drew asked as he leaned over the desk.

  “Drew, please help me settle the class down.”

  The class came to another silence as more needle pricking screams and the smashing of glass was heard outside the classroom. Drew walked over to Mrs. Westwood and the others that were huddled behind
the desk. He reached into his pocket.

  “Here try this.” Drew ripped open an alcohol packet. “Place it under her nose. She will wake up.”

  Drew’s grandmother was retired military and knew a thing or two about survival. He recalled how his Mee-maw would place alcohol packets underneath his mother’s nose in an effort to wake up her after one of her all night drinking binges.

  Drew stared down at Karley Richardson as she slowly began to wake and stir. Karley could have been the all American girl but succumbed to obsessing over her body image.

  “What happened to Karley? Is she bleeding? Was she injured?” Mrs. Westwood repeatedly asked. She was beginning to sound like a broken record.

  Drew wondered if Karley decided to skip her breakfast again. Maybe it was foregoing lunch or dinner yesterday. It was no secret that Karley Richardson had an eating disorder and apparently it was taking a toll on her body. She once had a crown full of vivacious bouncy golden curls that now look like stringy sticks of spaghetti. Toned muscular arms now resembled thin flaps of translucent skin. Drew cringed at the thought of once wanting to date her. Karley resembled a toothpick with legs now.

  “I passed out Mrs. Westwood,” Karley barely said. “I am so tired. I can’t run anymore.”

  Mrs. Westwood swallowed hard as she used the desk like a crutch to raise herself up. “What were you running from? Did you run all the way from the east end of the building? What is going on out there? Are you injured?”

  Karley shook her head no. Drew glanced back and forth between the two teachers. Mrs. Kissing and Josefina assisted Karley to her feet. Karley wobbled in between the two as she tried to stand on her own two feet. Her thin body was as thin as a skeleton.

  “Karley is not hurt. None of us are hurt. The blood is not ours,” Mrs. Kissing said in a rushed low voice. She glanced past Mrs. Westwood, her pregnant co-worker, and at the unexpecting students. Mrs. Kissing nervously licked her lips and strained her neck to look out the classroom window.

  “Okay, so where did the blood come from?” Mrs. Westwood blinked her eyes impatiently.

  No answer. Mrs. Kissing seemed to be in shock.

  “Is it the storm causing all of the chaos outside? Was someone injured by flying debris or something? Dr. Bradford has not made an announcement on the intercom yet,” Mrs. Westwood rationalized.

  Drew looked outside the classroom window. The wind had become stronger. A big garbage can rolled by in the schoolyard accompanied by trash swirling in the air. The sky was dark and gray. The rain began to fall at a slow but steady rate.

  “I am assuming that with all the ruckus going on outside that maybe we should go ahead and initiate Code B and take cover under the desk?” Mrs. Westwood added. She tilted her head to the side as if she suddenly remembered something. “I need to go and check on McKenzie. She has not come back from the bathroom yet.” Mrs. Westwood turned to leave.

  “No! No!” Mrs. Kissing closed her eyes and reopened them to collect herself. She grabbed Mrs. Westwood’s arm forcefully. Her eyes spoke of fear and terror. “You cannot go out there!”

  Karley lowly whimpered and bit down on her chapped lips. Josefina grimaced as her neck snapped towards the door. There was a new sound. A deathly sound of gurgling with the onset of horrid continuous moans that was accompanied by more screams. Loud shuffling, like sounds of an imposing army, was heard nearing the classroom.

  “Wait a minute,” Mrs. Westwood said as if a light bulb finally went off. “Where is the remainder of your class?”

  Mrs. Kissing glanced at the door with tears now flowing like a gentle stream down her face.

  “Dead…. “ Mrs. Kissing choked. “My students, my babies, are all dead!”

  **********

  The classroom was spinning or either Mrs. Westwood was getting dizzy. The moaning became louder by the minute and sounded as if it were two classrooms away. The moans were more like a hoarse growl with a low curdling gurgle. It was as if someone was struggle to breath in combination with gargling a sore throat. The sound was non-stop. The groans continued on like a battery-operated machine. The students began to stir in their desks once again amongst each other.

  “Dead?” Was all Mrs. Westwood could manage to say. She grabbed her chest, then her belly. She immediately thought of her unborn child and the danger they were all in.

  “Lower your voice!” Mrs. Kissing hissed with bugged eyes. “The noise will draw them here.”

  “Them? Who are you talking about Rebecca?” Mrs. Westwood’s voice broke. The grave look on Rebecca Kissing’s face did not prove to be one of promise or hope.

  “The… The children… The students. They are attacking and killing each other…. eating everyone” Mrs. Kissing managed to get out in one breath.

  There was a blank stare on Mrs. Westwood’s face.

  “Eating? What do you mean the students are eating everyone?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know. It was a blood bath out there,” Mrs. Kissing said as she once again glanced at the door.

  “Do they have weapons? Where is Dr. Bradford? Did anyone call the police?”

  Mrs. Kissing shook her head. “It all happened so fast. I left my assistant in charge of the class while I went to the office to pick up some supplies. When I came back to my room… I saw…“ Mrs. Kissing closed her eyes in an attempt to wipe out the most recent memory of what she had recently experienced.

  Mrs. Westwood was afraid to ask any more questions at the rate Mrs. Kissing was going. “You saw what? Rebecca? Did they have any weapons?”

  “Weapons? No…” Mrs. Kissing’s voice trembled. Her words were shaky. “The weapons was their teeth…”

  “What?”

  “The kids were eating each other. Alive.”

  “Good God.” Mrs. Westwood could not believe what she was hearing. This had to be a horrible nightmare but the sounds outside her classroom door proved otherwise.

  “I’m guessing your next question is…. How could this be? Right?” Mrs. Kissing swallowed hard shaking her plump neck. “I have no idea. My guess is that those kids back there have some form of a rabid disease and it’s highly contagious.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “The kids who were being eaten alive by the other kids would die. I mean literally expire. Moments later they reanimated and started repeating the horrid process of eating whoever had not been attacked or were trying to get away.”

  “This is all crazy. I don’t believe it. There is no such thing as someone dying and then coming back to… to life!” Mrs. Westwood shook her head. A large stick swirling in the strong winds knocked up against the outside window causing the class along with the teachers to jump.

  “Believe what you want too. But if you want to outlive what is going on out there,” Mrs. Kissing leaned her head towards the classroom door, “You better put on your thinking cap and help me figure out how to get these kids out of here all in one piece. I think we are the only survivors left here. I think.”

  Josefina sniffled as she confirmed Mrs. Kissing’s comment. “It is true, Senora Westwood. I wouldn’t have believe it myself either. It looked like something out of a scary pelicula. I think we are all going to die, if we don’t get out of here soon,” Josefina slowly said with tear filled eyes. She wiped at her dried, blood smeared face.

  “The weather is getting worse. Dr. Bradford mentioned commotion earlier. That must be it, the weather.” Mrs. Westwood grabbed her face as if she was trying to sort things out. “This is absurd.” She refused to believe what was going on outside her classroom walls.

  “My suggestion is we all try to make a go for it to the chorus building. There are no windows and we should be safe their until help—“

  Before Mrs. Kissing could finish her sentence more screams occurred followed by the disconnection of the power. The lights went out.

  A combination of shrieks and gasps escaped from the mouths of the students. The light from outside of the classroom window dimly illuminated the ti
ny space. The dark gray skies roared and rumbled. Hurricane Angel, which was downgraded to a category one, was going to announce its arrival. Mrs. Westwood tried to calm down the frantic students.

  “Calm down class! Calm down! The generator will come on momentarily and then we will have light. This is all a part of the hurricane drill that we have practiced since the beginning of the school year,” Mrs. Westwood reassuringly said as she groped for her cell phone on the desk.

  Drew adjusted his eyes in the dim light. He did not know if the disconnected power was in relation to the weather or what was going on outside in the hallway.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Kissing shrieked. “We need to be getting out of here before those, those… things come here and eat us!”

  “I am going to call the front office again.”

  Mrs. Westwood dialed the front office only to receive a busy signal. She tried again. Busy. She hung up the cell phone in frustration and then dialed 911. Busy. Mrs. Westwood looked up from her cell phone straining her eyes in the dim light. She tried to locate Mrs. Kissing. 911 was never busy… She tried 911 again.

  Busy.

  “Can you try 911 on your cell phone?” Mrs. Westwood asked Mrs. Kissing. “The line is busy.”

  “Oh my God. Something is seriously wrong here. 911 is never busy. Not even during or after Hurricane Katrina do I recall 911 being busy. I remember it taking a few rings for an operator to pick up but the line was never busy.” Mrs. Kissing’s lips trembled.

  “Do you have your cell phone?”

  “No, it’s in my class inside my purse. I am not going back there. Never.”

  The lights came back on but at a blinking glow. The light bulbs in the classroom made buzzing sounds as if it threatened to disconnect again at any moment. The students were shaken. Most were scared. Drew knew something ominous was occurring beyond those doors. He overheard the teacher’s conversation. Why were children attacking and eating each other? He walked back to his desk. He quickly wrote a note and passed it to Sue Ellen and Mater.