Protector of the People

They're Dead

"And remember, your research has to be recorded. All of it. Otherwise you can say goodbye to that A."

Groans emanated from the students in the room as this last bit of news hit them. We were already being overworked, and our teacher wasn't helping. Everyone knew that the 'biggest project of our high school lives' entitled weeks of work, but we still complained when we found out just what we had to do. No one wanted to write down every single step in the making of a project, especially a class full of 16 year olds with attitudes.

Slam. "This really sucks. Thanks to Mr. Gibson, now we've got an entire research paper on top of the two essays, lab report, and the stupid art documentary."

"Don't forget the math test coming up. I'm sure your parents would be happy if you landed an F." I gave him an exasperated smile, and then slammed my own locker shut.

"Come on, let's go study. Quiz for Nelson. Properties of animal bodies or something." I tucked my books under my arm and turned. He walked with me, our paces matching automatically. I smiled to myself. I had forty minutes of freedom to be with Carl, and I planned on using all of them.

"Define axon?"

"That's easy. Extension of a nerve cell. Electrical impulses get sent up on them."

"How would you explain someone's blood not clotting?"

"Not enough fish?" I laughed, stretching my arms out to the sides and yawning.

"That wasn't on a card and you know it. Too easy."

"You're gonna ace this quiz, then. I can't even remember what the hippocampus is."

"Don't worry. Sit next to me, you'll be fine." I swept the cards into a messy pile with one hand, and opened my lunch with the other.

"Mmm, you made caramel brownies again." He reached for the Ziploc baggie, grinning.

"Hands off! You ate them last time!" I slapped his wrist and snatched the bag back.

"Aww, none for me? And I thought we were friends." He turned away from me, crossing his arms over his chest in a non-convincing sad manner. Rolling my eyes, I ripped open the bag and started picking apart the first brownie, my fingers seeking out the chocolate chips in the soft, chewy square of deliciousness. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him watching, and I knew the decadent smell had hit him. He was still sitting in his chair, faking indifference. Faking it badly, too. He must really want one. I sighed dramatically, and then got out of the chair, brownie in hand. Going up behind him, I dangled the baggie in front of his eyes, purposely banging them into the bridge of his nose. He grabbed the brownie, shoved the entire thing in his mouth, and groaned.

"Ifs dewicious." He chewed, and then swallowed.

Smirking, I stepped back, pushing my hair over my shoulders and slinging my bag over my arm, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"Come on, slowpoke. We got a class to catch." Carl stood up, stretching, and zipped up his own backpack.

"Let's go then. What're you waiting for?"

We walked to class together, dodging the mass of people flooding the hallway. I bumped into him a few times and my arm tingled from the contact. Just like a twelve-year old, Alex. Way to go. Why can't you just tell him? Even Jodi thinks he likes you. I can't tell him because I'd be devastated if he didn't. Oh, get over yourself and your silly insecurities. Just do it. Shut up.

Once again, I was hearing voices in my head. And once again, they were egging me on to do something I dreaded - telling Carl I really cared about him. That kind of care. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it had been a small crush on a random boy, but he was my best friend. I couldn't screw up our friendship because of that. I mean, we told each other everything. It would really suck if we couldn't be friends anymore because of a stupid hormonal issue.

I stretched out my hand, reaching for the door, but someone else was already there to open it. Logan. A hot flash of annoyance spiked through me, and I raised my eyebrows at him in distaste.

"I got it." He opened the door, his skin pale against his black flannel shirt.

I couldn't complain, though, because even if he was an ass, at least he was being chivalrous.

"Thank you." My reply was tight-lipped. I couldn't stand Logan for more than a few minutes at a time, or else I would start tearing my hair out and stomping my feet on the ground, which made for very attractive Facebook photos.

"No problem." Logan winked at me in what I think was supposed to be a charming manner. I had an uncontrollable urge to smash his face into the door he'd just opened. Just as I was about to act on it, I felt a light pressure on my arm.

"Forget him. Let's go."

And because he was the only one I ever listened to, I did.

We were sitting in biology when it happened. One moment, our pencils were scratching answers on the clean sheets of paper, and the next, death was everywhere.

I'd gotten up to sharpen my pencil at the front of the room, when I heard a strange rasping noise from behind me. Turning, I saw her - Tori was hard to miss, with her platinum blonde hair and silver eyes, even when she wasn't thrashing and jerking in her seat as she was now. My eyebrows met, a frown descending upon my face. What was wrong with her?

She'd caught the attention of practically everyone in the room, and Carl's eyes met mine, fear edged with shock.

"Someone call 911!" I yelled, my voice painfully small compared to her terrible wheezing. I would have, but my phone was in my locker. There was no need to text during class, I reasoned, and I was usually right. A flurry of movement swept through the room, but it wasn't the flourishing of cell phones as I'd expected. Instead, I saw Sam, one of the school jocks, start twitching in his seat. As he started coughing and hacking, the same thing happened almost instantaneously to everyone else in the room; people were jerking in their seats, somehow unable to breathe. I knew then in that instant that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

My mouth was open in shock. What the hell was going on? Adrenaline was coursing through me as I watched my classmates die, but remained in place, my feet planted on the floor as if held by glue.

"Lexi!" Carl called, snapping me out of it. Thank God he's fine, I thought. The classroom had filled with the tortured cries of my friends, my classmates. Jordan fell then, her hair black against her ashen skin. I rushed to catch one of my best friends as she rolled from her seat, convulsing.

Her body felt light as it hit my arms, and I lowered her slowly to the ground. Blood was running down the front of her shirt, dripping out of her mouth and nose, a scarlet fountain. Her midnight eyes found mine, and I smoothed a piece of her charcoal hair off of her face. She could have been a model; her skin was immaculate, her eyelashes scraping her cheekbones when she blinked. She could have been anything, but right now, she was dying in my arms. Jordan clutched at me with desperate fingers, lips forming words I'd never hear. She was making a horrible gagging noise, and I realized she was suffocating. They all were.

Except for Carl.

She twitched one last time, and then was still. Her eyes stared into an eternal abyss, looking into nothing. With trembling fingers, I lowered her eyelids, stopping the glassy glare.

I ran to him then, and our hands met, fingers interlacing as if to protect us from the world. We watched in silence as the rest of our classmates bled, choked, and then fell to the ground, dead.

It happened in less than four minutes.