One: Firefight

Academia Ad Electos.

Academy for the Elite.

Tony Mathers had been the overseer of the institution since long before it had ever broken ground, but had always strived to make it just so: An academy for the finest students in the region. And accordingly so, he’d had the Latin slogan emblazoned on every empty surface that he could find.

Of course, it would forever be so much more than a simple College for the brightest young academic prospects in the state, but appearances had to be kept up. And Principal Mathers would never let himself be known for doing things half-assed.

The College itself - credited as Geelong Academic College, officially - mounted the tallest hill in the region, and sat just shy of the seashore. It was home to over three hundred brilliant students, each welcomed with a complete scholarship for their tuition. They learnt and thrived without bias, across the huge campus that spanned the entire peak of the giant hill.

The weather had rolled across the ocean in earnest that morning, bringing a final but unwelcome end to a string of sunny summer days. While the clouds had looked increasingly gloomy and lightning had occasionally struck, the moisture itself never began. This strange backdrop did nothing to ease the indecision of the Principal, as he watched on from his office and pondered upon his grave troubles.

The College had started taking in students six years ago, and it had been the idea of a man even wiser than Mathers himself to let the cohort and teaching staff grow gradually. Therefore, six years ago they had taken in a select few Year One and Year Seven children, and taken in a fresh batch each year following the first. That meant that for the first time this year, the school had a full complement of students; Years One through Twelve were complete.

And now, just shy of two quarters through the teaching year, Principal Mathers would allow himself to admit that it was going just fine… Except for the complete and implication-laced dilemma which he now faced.

Due to the relative newness of the College, its facilities were state of the art, and still fresh. Of course, with the financial backing that it had, there was never any other option. Similarly, the teaching staff had been hand-picked - just like their students - based on their excellence in their fields.

On the surface, it was a prestigious, yet otherwise normal, institute.

Tony Mathers suddenly became aware that one of his feet was jittering up and down rapidly on the carpet. He shook his head, hoping to clear his mind somewhat, but it was to no avail. It was Friday, he should have banished all of his worries for the week, but instead he was faced with a decision: Could he let this pressing matter go unchecked for another weekend?

If handled wrongly, a hailstorm of corpses could well rain down upon him, and his institute.

He ran both sets of stiff fingers through a greying and thinning hairline, knowing that precious minutes were dwindling away. In five more, the kids would be dismissed to enjoy their weekend.

The question was: Should any of them be kept from this mercy?

On days like this, Mathers would have preferred to be back in his senior post within the United Navy, a product of an alliance between American and Australian armed forces. Now, with the final say in dire matters, he began to understand on a new level the grim looks on the faces of his army superiors, back when he was still serving.

He checked his watch - a rare Tissot, courtesy of the parents of one of his more financially-free students - and then opened his laptop. While a normal school was forbidden in this region to have security cameras laced around the place like this one did, Mathers knew that if anyone came snooping around the place, they were likely to dig up more astray than just some simple cameras.

The Principal scanned through fragmented footage of the College in rapid succession, but his fingers paused over the SKIP button when the science laboratory came onto the screen. Four of the seven students who had been on the forefront of his mind for the past month were calmly concluding their school-weeks, without any idea of the possible danger that they could be only hours away from.

Surely they can be allowed just one more weekend of freedom…

But that had been his thought process last Friday, too. And so, Tony Mathers finally made his decision; he began by picking up his mobile phone to send a message.

The final bell for the day suddenly droned out of every speaker across and beneath the campus: DING, DING, DING!

***

DING, DING, DING!

Mr Campbell - the dry, boring fucker that he was - didn’t let the class go as soon as the bell rang; sadly, this was far from new. He was a substitute teacher, filling in for the original Chemistry professor who had gone off to have another kid, and he seemed to take his post very seriously.

Too seriously.

‘Now, note down this diagram in your books. For your final exam, the first thing you should is to scribble this in the top corner of the front page…’ Campbell droned mercilessly on, as if every notebook hadn’t slammed shut the second that damn bell had gone off.

The science lab was already about as far removed as you could get in this school from the lockers and the area where which busses left from, and Wil knew that if he missed another bus, there would be hell to pay at home. As if God heard him and had pity, the ever-grumpy Mr Campbell raised both hands in the air, as if accepting defeat against the final bell and the call of the weekend. He even shot the class a grim, knowing smile.

Wil knew, just as much as The Prof’ did, that no matter how smart or motivated a class of genius Year Twelves were, when the weekend hit, they were mentally gone. Pencil cases whirred shut, books slammed into binders, and chairs screeched out from tables; Wil’s own, of course, had been ready to go a good five minutes previously - the rest of the class were amateurs.

Before he verbally dismissed the students, Mr Campbell raised his voice to compete with the racket, and read names out from a crinkled piece of paper, ‘William, Alejandro, Whittney and… Tan. Just a minute more of your time, please. The rest of you are free to go.’

You bastard.

A girl called Erin led the charge out of the door, with Wil watching on enviously, knowing that if things had played out differently, that would have been him. Then his attention was called away.

Tan, a comedic Vietnamese student who fashioned himself as the class-clown, cast a glance at Mr Campbell that was more disdainful than it was questioning. Wil watched Tan, who sat a few seats to his side, regain a rueful grin and shout across the room, towards his eternal partner in crime - a girl called Whittney.

‘You think he found out about us blocking that toilet, Whitt?’ Tan asked in a mock-whisper.

‘Surely not…’ Whittney drolled back, feet propped on a nearby chair. ‘Willy and Paco weren’t there, anyway.’

She added the last with an eye roll as she turned back around and stretched her neck on the back of the chair, letting dark and curly hair fall almost to the floor. Whittney, like almost all of the other students, called Alejandro by the Spanish translation of his name.

Yeah… She’s got style, and she knows it too.

But Paco’s ears had barely even pricked up at the sound of his name, immersed as he was by kneeling in close to Wil, outlining another weekend packed with revelry in a low tone. There was no special occasion - but there often wasn’t. Alejandro had been Wil’s best friend ever since they started at the College together, and they had almost immediately began sharing their weekends together, hashing out one plan or another. And since both recently turning eighteen, the plans had more often than not become alcohol-centred.

Erin may have led the charge out of the lab, but the others had been hot on her tail, making for a flurry of students adorned in matching and spotless regal-purple blazers. Within two minutes of the initial bell-ringing, the classroom was empty except for Campbell, and the four students he’d held back. Wil was aware that with every passing second, that damn bus got closer to leaving without him.

Suddenly, Wil stood up, turning to face Tan. As he did so, he patted flat his creaseless uniform, starting with its emblazoned slogan. Attention had never swayed him - even when he’d been young - and he’d never been afraid to make a scene.

Speaking louder than he needed to, he said, ‘Oi Tan! You and Whitt didn’t pull another prank and try to pin it on me again, did you?’ Wil was amicable enough with both of the troublemakers, but thought that they were a bit too risqué to make close friends with.

Tan’s eyes gleamed in response to Wil’s slightly annoyed tone, ‘No, of course not! If I was gonna blame someone it would have been Paco…’ He shot Alejandro a sly look which was not reciprocated.

The science lab played host to a clutter of school-common chairs and desks that lay in the middle of the room, dwarfed by tall work benches which surrounded them on three sides. The front of the room had a low podium and another desk for the teachers, behind which Mr Campbell currently resided.

The substitute professor now strode across centre-stage and used one meaty arm to slide the bulky lab door shut. The thing slammed into place, a sound which Wil could have almost sworn was accompanied by that of the door jamb locking - which made no sense at all. Closing the door so that they weren’t overheard was common practice, but locking it?

Campbell swiftly returned to retake his chair at the front of the room, acting as if this was all standard procedure. Without pause, he reached for the bottom handle in his set of drawers, using the same hand to procure something from it. Wil couldn’t quite see what it was, with the angle he was sitting, but it sounded heavy and metallic.

Then, Mr Campbell did something Wil honestly couldn’t remember seeing before: He smiled down to the students with a genuine, happy expression.

Following this, he made another announcement, this time in a cooler tone: ‘Now this is nothing personal… In fact, it’s strictly business.’

Wil watched on, confused for a brief moment, as Campbell levelled a small but mean-looking pistol square towards his head. Tan laughed as if it was a joke, but there was dying joy laced in the sound… And when their professor pressed a button on the thing that was no doubt the SAFETY switch, whatever joy was left died in Tan’s throat.

As if an explosion had rung out, Wil and his three peers jumped to their feet as one. But the motion was panicked and random; Campbell swiftly sidestepped to stand directly in their path to the exit, still with the handgun held high, trapping them thoroughly.

‘What the fuc-’ Alejandro had just began to protest, when Campbell cocked back the hammer to the gun.

Its click went reverberating through the room, freezing all movement.

***

After sending a message to his closest friend and advisor, Principal Tony Mathers was only given a handful of seconds to breathe and pray to a higher power that he’d made the right decision. And after that, it became pretty apparent that he had not - his desire to wait for as long for as possible became his downfall.

Mathers had requested a fellow teacher to hold three of the select students up after class, knowing that they were in a room close to his office. Trusting his teacher would get the job done, he had been just about to set off towards the science lab, hoping to catch the other four students in question, before they left for the day. There was a substitute teacher taking that class, and the Principal didn’t trust him enough to get him anywhere near involved.

As he’d taken one final look at the security camera feed, though, Mathers saw something that made his blood run cold. The Sub - Mr Campbell - was holding a Beretta pistol with a taped grip; it was a weapon which signalled a preordained, calculated attack.

The Principal blinked several times, and was loathe to find that his eyes had not deceived him: There stood his current chemistry teacher, a gun levelled at his brightest pupils

Seconds became as important as hours had been.

Fumbling manically through his pockets and finding his phone again, Mathers dialled a number.

The day they’d been dreading for weeks was finally here.

***

DING, DING, DING!

History… I wish I could leave this class in the history.

Claire sat in the front row - she fashioned herself as an avid learner; everyone else fashioned herself as a teacher’s pet. The truth, she was sure, lay somewhere in the middle. That didn’t mean she liked the classes, though. In fact, compared to the rest of the kids that just played around in the back rows, it was probably worse for her.

She could only watch with resentment as her small class of Year Twelves escaped school with the jubilance of newfound Friday freedom, and no doubt thoughts of a packed weekend schedule on their mind. Claire knew a thing or two about a busy weekend planned herself - right this second she was supposed to be drawing herself into the passenger seat of Erin’s pink, sexy (in a girly type of way) Mazda Miata. Instead, she was sitting stagnant.

Bare seconds before the bell had rung, their teacher’s phone had gone off. When talking about Mr Black, this was a rare occurrence, making it noteworthy. Even more noteworthy had been when Mr Black announced to his class that they were free to go when the bell rang, excluding Claire herself, Alex, and Jethro.

Begrudgingly, the three of them had obliged.

The rest of the classroom emptied quickly. A quick swing of her head showed Claire that Alex and Jethro, two friends that were both strong and lean, were sat on their own in the rear of the room, heads close together; they were conspiring, as was their norm.

Claire was short, blonde, and hyper-perceptive. Now that class was officially over, she permitted herself to push back on her chair and let out a petulant, impatient sigh. When it became clear Mr Black wasn’t going to address them immediately, she began reaching for a mirror that she knew was in her bag.

With famously thin patience already wearing, Claire spoke without even turning to look at the boys: ‘I’m not caught up in some shit you two have made up, am I? Because I better not be…’

‘Hey, not that I know of,’ came the response from Alex.

Claire liked Alex better out of the two - there was something handsome in his face that she couldn’t quite decide on, and occasionally he sent her a lingering stare. More often than she cared to admit aloud, she sent him one back.

‘Yeah… We weren’t caught last time.’ Jethro said this alongside a thinly veiled wink towards his friend.

Claire made a disgusted sound - unlike Alex, Jethro’s only personality trait was being annoying. Especially when he thought he was being funny. But, remembering something she’d seen in the dark at Erin’s Eighteenth Birthday party, held on the weekend prior, she thought of something that would wipe the grin off Jethro’s mouth.

‘Hey, speaking of getting caught… Didn’t I see you in a corner with your mouth glued to someone else’s, at Erin’s party? Huh?’

Just as she’d hoped. Alex shot Jethro a betrayed look, and the boy himself suddenly looked down at his closed notebook.

Rustling papers that were on his desk, Mr Black addressed the students for the first time; ‘I’ll be with you in no time,’

Being held back after class was rare enough at this school, and Black seemed almost on-edge, too. He kept shooting glances towards the glass door, as if he was expecting a visitor. Claire’s curiosity was well and truly piqued, but so was her annoyance at the delay.

As the minutes wore on, Claire fully spun in her chair. ‘I’m starting to think you guys are lying…’ She didn’t like how whiny her voice came out, especially when she’d been directing it at Alex, so she decided to say no more.

‘Seriously?’ Alex let an exasperated smile dance onto his lips, and there it was again for Claire - the attraction to his infallible personality. It was a chemistry that she hoped was reciprocated.

‘Lying with Jesus in the room?’ Jethro added, sounding mock-offended.

He pointed to a poster centred on Christianity that a younger student had made. Claire felt the same distaste as Jethro tried to play the joker again; she rued the boy for interrupting her conversation with Alex, but raised her hands in defeat, after letting him know that it was actually God represented on the poster, not Jesus.

This time, however, Claire didn’t turn back around. She chose to stay shooting glances at Alex through her peripheral vision while appearing to be uninterested.

But then a ringtone broke their short-lived silence, and Claire swung around quick enough to catch Mr Black looking down at his mobile phone, which was sitting on the desk.

The teacher was slow to react, giving Jethro time to quip, ‘Sir kept us here to bear witness to his phone call.’

But Claire, quick as ever, had already snuck a glance at Mr Black’s phone screen and began to sigh again. ‘Shut up you idiot, it’s Mr Mathers!’

Jethro stopped mid-laugh.

Dickhead.

Only then did Black pick up his call, without so much as a smile.

Claire knew - like everyone else - that Mr Black was the closest teacher to the principal; both in the role of governing the school, and in kinship to the man himself. While no Vice Principal had ever been appointed, it was clear that Black held the role in everything except official title.

The fact that their principal might be the reason they were still here put Claire even more on edge. And this time, Jethro and Alex looked like they felt the same cold dread.

***

‘Hello?’ Black asked, trying to speak without being heard by his students, but each of them had their eyes and ears trained in his direction.

On the opposite end of the call, Mr Mathers spoke rapidly as soon as he was sure that Black was receiving: ‘Code Red in the science block, right now! Hurry!’

The line abruptly ended.

Black had registered that Principal Mathers wasn’t in his normal state of calmness even before he understood what the words of his superior. And when the meaning did dawn, it did so alongside fear.

Code Red was named after the blood that was likely to spill from it. Black had never heard it called in earnest.

Spinning straight into action, Black practically bounded over his desk towards the doorway. He had just pulled on the handle when he changed his mind, pivoting back to ruffle open his drawers. Frantically, he threw paper aside until his hands found the object of his search: A tennis ball with the weight of a bowling ball.

Black found the briefest of moments to spare for his wards. They all looked shocked at his sporadic movements, and silently watched on.

‘Don’t leave this room! The school isn’t safe anymore!’ After offering the abrupt warning, he dashed out of the classroom door, leaving it to swing in the breeze.

***

‘Move! All of you! Over there!’ Mr Campbell roared - the droning teacher’s voice long-gone - as he motioned to the back of his room with the barrel of his gun.

Alejandro basically ran to comply. He’d jumped to his feet after initially assuming this was all some sick joke - indeed, a part of him still thought it was a messed up prank - but the seriousness was starting to dawn on him now. Standing to his side, his closest friend Wil stuck both hands in the air; that seemed like a pretty appropriate course of action.

He found his heart racing and mind whirring: Why was this happening? Was he dreaming?

None of this made any sense - which was something that Alejandro hated above all else.

Fear was making his legs shake, and another sideward glance - this time towards Tan and Whittney - confirmed that he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. Tan’s eyes were bulging, and he looked back at Alejandro with a mouth open in shock.

Alejandro was positive he hadn’t blinked once since Campbell had pulled out his gun, and he credited this as the reason he caught the briefest flicker of movement from the dark hallway into the other lab. Petrified, there was no way to be sure of what he’d just seen - maybe it was just his mind playing trick on him.

Or maybe… If my Chemistry prof is a gun-toting madman, why can’t the history teacher be one too?

Suddenly there was another silhouette in the mix, but recognising this one made Alejandro damn near drop to his knees in despair. Through the opaque glass of the sliding door, he recognised a head topped with perfectly wavy hair - he knew it would be brunette, too, to match her eyes.

The door made a horribly loud sound among the dead silence of the laboratory, as the figure tried to wrench it open. The thing lurched forward a touch, then Alejandro heard the deadbolt give way - whoever had locked it had done a shit job of it, and regrettably so right now - which allowed Erin into the room.

She’d scampered maybe a quarter of the way into the length of the lab, head down and scanning the floor for something, when she realised what was going on around her. Erin had been mid-sentence, but the words suddenly caught in her mouth.

‘So sorry! I forgot my stupid-’

The look up. The dawning of horror. And those gorgeous doe eyes becoming wide and shocked, like a deer caught in headlights. Her mouth continuing to move as if she wasn’t aware her words had frozen. It all happened in a single moment.

Campbell spun, obviously shaken by believing that the door had been locked. The gun that had been raised square at his head was suddenly now raised at Erin’s, and in a lot closer of a proximity.

Alejandro had just enough time to wish that it was still trained at his ugly face.

Whittney had just enough time to let out a shaky whisper of, ‘God…’ as she looked up towards the roof.

Then, the pistol - and indeed the entire science lab - roared with the loudest explosion Alejandro had ever heard in his life. It was enough to wake the dead.

It was followed by the lesser sound of a body hitting the floor, this one accompanied with deadly ringing in Alejandro’s skull.

After that there were no sounds at all for a while.

Then started the chorus of screams.

When Alejandro’s vision decided to catch up with his hearing, he saw the flash from the muzzle of the pistol, followed instantly by a tiny red hole nestled somewhere between Erin’s lungs and heart. He’d watched the whole thing - they all had - unable to tear their eyes away.

A guttural scream came unwilling from his lips, and he dropped to the floor, diving for cover behind one of the tall benches. He was scared senseless, and in pure disbelief at what was going on, driving him to take the risk of the sudden movement. Luckily, he was quicker than Campbell’s trigger-finger, and avoided ending up with a hole in himself - unlike Erin.

Alejandro felt more than he saw his lunge set off a chain reaction. Wil dove to his side behind the bench, and Tan and Whittney broke out of their horrified trance to also dive down under benches on the opposite side of the room. This left them all hiding behind the tall lab benches, shooting wide-eyed stares of horror across the classroom at each other. Alejandro heard Campbell let out a groan of rage at their deceit, but it felt distant.

Everything was feeling distant all of a sudden.

His friends had all fallen silent - obviously not wanting to scream and give away their hiding positions, even though it was perfectly obvious where they all were. Into that cold, dreadful silence came a growl from Mr Campbell.

‘I’m not done with you! Not by a long…’ Then came a sick, malice-filled pause. ‘Shot.’

Ready to vomit but also still in disbelief, Alejandro watched Erin on the floor from his low vantage point. Blood was seeping out from her wounds, staining her brunette hair a dark red, and pooling around her on the floor. There was nothing he could do, lest he end up in the same situation; he reeled, immobilised, forcing his eyes shut. He wanted to scream again.

She’ll bleed out quickly. That’s if she’s not dead already…

The world spun.

***

Mr Black had made good pace down to the science block, not slowed down at all by his panic.

He had found himself running with haste past students who were waiting for parents to pick them up, and also found himself under their questioning glances. Black loudly urged the kids to rush home, but didn’t slow down to elaborate - time was of complete essence now. Mercifully, none of the kids gave chase.

Being a close study of the College’s extensive timetable (as it was his job to be), Black had known that the Chemistry class would be taught in the further of the two conjoined science labs, so he had silently inched the door open and slid inside the closer, vacant room. Wasting no time, he’d tried to take in as much of the situation as he could through the hallway - which was as close as he dared to get - and gratefully seen that he hadn’t been too late.

Mr Campbell had been there, standing with his back turned and a pistol raised, and the kids had been lined up against the back wall, some of them with their hands in the air. It had been like a fucking shooting range - his blood had boiled at that.

For a brief second, one of the kids - Alejandro - caught his eye, and his face shone with a flicker of recognition. Black held his breathe, knowing that if the boy said anything, he would have to swing into action immediately.

And then a loud racket had echoed through both labs, followed by a girl’s voice. When she came into his crack of view, Black recognised Erin - a bright, happy and confident girl; knowing that this interruption likely spelt death for one, if not all of the kids, he crept forward relentlessly, figuring out how to attack.

Campbell fired.

A single lash of blood squirted across the floor, landing almost at his feet, and Erin’s body pirouetted around with the force of the bullet, eventually coming to land on the hard, cold floor. Black almost blew his cover by crying out in shock, but bit the sound back for the sake of the other students. He wouldn’t allow himself to panic while more lives hung delicately in the balance; his old United Navy training spurred him forward as he devised a plan.

Using a strong hand, he fished the innocent-seeming tennis ball out of the sturdy pockets of his pants. He started ripping away strands of fine yellow fuzz from its face, until a tiny keypad was revealed to be hidden on the object. Using a fingernail, he punched in the code #1289#. In response, it issued a quiet beep.

Yellow hair immediately started to fall from the sphere, revealing a complete exterior of hard metal underneath.

As Black edged ever-closer to the other lab, his stealth was broken when he knocked something that had been left on the ground. The drink bottle hit the floor with a metallic crash, causing both rogue teachers to spin into action at once.

Campbell raised his pistol, and Mr Black let out a low, ‘Fuck!’ under his breath as he bolted backwards, knowing he might have just spelt death for the four kids he was trying his hardest to save.

***

Something was going on in the lab behind them. Whittney wasn’t considered by many to be the most perceptive when it came to that sort of stuff - she was always hyper-focused on one particular thing, instead - but even she could tell. First had come the crash, and then a string of footsteps, and then Campbell had posed to fire his gun again.

Perhaps not the most perceptive, but definitely the most reckless, Whittney chanced a look across the room to where Wil and Alejandro were crouching, she noticed that they weren’t sitting idly by either. The two boys were rustling through the cupboards of their lab bench, fear making their actions rash and imprecise; College paraphernalia was going everywhere.

Wil looked wired and like he had a goal, whereas Alejandro looked completely shell shocked - and who could really blame him. Wil physically shook his friend, and yelled into his ear.

Through her own ringing ears, Whittney heard two key words whispered by Wil: ‘Bunsen burners!’

And then, for the first time since Campbell had pulled out his weapon, the girl believed that there might be a way to survive this ordeal. If they could just distract him, maybe they could make a run for it, or incapacitate him some other way…

But that was where her plan started to get a little rough around the edges.

Looking for her own burner, Whittney caught a glimpse of Erin’s blood, a long splatter of it leading back to her body, around which the thick liquid was starting to pool. Fighting back a high scream, Whittney forced herself to look away - there would be ample time later to grieve in paralysis, if she helped herself to survive.

Luckily, Whittney found her own partner in crime, Tan, more receptive than Wil’s. Around the same time that her hands closed around the firm cylinder of a bunsen burner in the drawers that riddled the lab-bench, Tan’s found a pair of bright blue gas hoses - without them, the burners were useless.

‘Yes!’ She furiously whispered, and Tan returned the sentiment with a proud look.

Realising a flaw in their plan, Whittney shot a look over to Wil’s side of the room. The gas taps were on the top of the bench, which meant someone would have to stick their head and hands over the surface make the connection.

Unlike Whittney, Wil had already manufactured his own solution.

In a showcase of bravery, he jolted to his feet holding the pipe and slammed it into the gas hose, flicking it on, before collapsing back to the floor. He panted with fear and exhilaration from the sudden act, and Whittney could only stare across at him in awe.

We’re in with a chance if that kid keeps this up…

***

Pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping Alejandro going.

Wil seemed to have his own ideas - mostly ones that involved setting the place on fire - and Tan and Whittney looked to be copying him, but Alejandro found himself shellshocked. He’d helped Wil rifle through the draws to find a Bunsen Burner and its hose, welcoming the temporary distraction - it was the only thing keeping him from curling into a ball and screaming, catatonic.

He couldn’t understand why Wil and the others didn’t feel the same - they’d just watched their teacher kill a student. It was insanity.

‘How the fuck do I get this thing lit?’ Wil whispered at him furiously, and somehow, through his stupor, the answer struck Alejandro.

‘Bring it close to the ground!’ He ordered Wil with haste in his voice, and watched as his friend did it, stretching the gas hose to its absolute limit.

Alejandro brought the steel tip of a second burner down hard onto the concrete lab floor, producing a few sparks. They mixed with the gas, and flame was produced by Wil’s burner. He wasn’t satisfied with that though - Wil spun straight around and started looking for something that would burn. Alejandro wasn’t exactly sure what his friend’s plan was, but he knew that a distraction would be his ally.

Shit, it might even save his life.

A glance at his attacker showed Alejandro that Campbell had retreated a few steps into the back room, and he recalled how he had believed that he’d seen Mr Black back there somewhere. Perhaps his mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him after all.

Without the pressure of a gunman standing over him, Alejandro had relaxed slightly, and been about to start ripping off the door to a nearby cupboard. That was something that would do a good job of burning. But he was driven to paralysis again when he heard what sounded like a whisper…

‘Please. Help.’ Erin was using the last of her strength to plead, with a wheeze.

And all of a sudden, with his distraction gone, Alejandro was brought right back into the horrific situation. Erin looked like she’d dragged herself forward several centimetres - the wound mustn’t have been instantly fatal, like he’d feared - and the girl was now looking towards him and trying to propel herself further forward still.

It was a scene straight from a nightmare, and his mouth fell open; all he could do was stare with tears forming in his eyes. He’d never seen someone shot before, and to make matters so much worse, it was her.

Erin had always been timid; not in a rude way, more like she was shy. But she was kind too, and gorgeous. With his heart racing from indecision and fear, and without so much as a word to Wil crouched next to him hefting a Physics textbook, Alejandro projected himself forward under chairs and desks, towards Erin - almost swimming across the damp concrete to do so. The girl’s mouth was carved open in a gargle of pain, but no other sounds escaped her throat.

If there was even a remote chance he could do something to save her life, though, Alejandro had to try.

Grabbing table legs, he pushed himself forward, staying low until he lay right at her side. He regarded her close, feeling his tears drip onto her body. Erin was in a bad way; she seemed to almost be trembling, and bubbles and blood were frothing from the corners of her mouth. She made choking sounds. Alejandro’s mouth stayed agape in horror - this was as close to violence as he’d ever been. He tentatively reached for her hand - anything to comfort the girl with life seeping out of her eyes - but he knew it could only hurt her more, and pulled back again.

He screamed with helplessness. It was excruciating.

Erin’s eyes fluttered open for a final time. They met with Alejandro’s, and she mouthed words that he couldn’t make out. He saw even more blood welling inside her mouth but couldn’t tear his eyes away again - if making eye contact with him was the last thing that would ever give the girl solace, he wouldn’t take that from her in exchange for the world.

Alejandro knew it would be mercy now to put her out of her misery, but he also knew within himself that he would never be able to do that. Ten minutes ago, he’d never even seen a gun - there was no way that he could cover any girls mouth and nose and take her life, let alone Erin’s.

It would haunt him; he’d kill himself in sympathy.

So Alejandro just watched her slip away - so close, yet feeling so estranged. And in those quiet moments, with the world completely drowned out, the precious soul that he had secretly cared about for so long finally lost its fight.

***

Sporadic glances shot from the corner of her eyes informed Whittney that Wil and Alejandro had made use of their Bunsen Burner by attempting to set half of the science lab on fire. At first she had been shocked at this - she had never set anything on fire at the school, that was a step too far even for her and Tan. But then she realised that the fire might be exactly the distraction they needed to survive this ordeal…

She had looked around frantically for a few seconds for anything easily flammable, but came up short. Whittney had been moments away from asking Tan if he had any genius ideas on how to get the Burner alight as she craned her neck around the corner of the tall lab bench in the same moment as the barrel of Campbell’s gun erupted once more.

An explosion of noise and vibration shook the walls, masking the scream that she failed to keep from letting out. Whittney actually saw a metal slug exploded into the concrete floor, chipping it and burying deep before coming to a complete stop.

The bullet had been aimed for no-man’s land - directly in between the two of the lab benches. Whittney was no study of military strategy, but was almost certain that the shot must have been to scare them into staying hidden while Mr Campbell investigated whatever had made the noise. If he really wanted to kill them, he could have taken a lot better aim…

Not that I’m complaining, though.

By the time she had recovered enough of her wits to take a second look, Whittney saw Campbell’s back as he retreated into the thin corridor that connected the two labs. Savagely, she wished that she had something to shoot - or stab - him with while he was so exposed.

Now not as nervous about being shot, Whittney took a longer glance over to Wil’s side of the room. He had something smouldering and profusely smoking, but it took her another second to realise that Alejandro had moved - he was literally swimming back across the floor towards his friend, in a pool of blood. For a second, she thought he’d been shot too, but then realised that it was Erin’s blood.

Oh, Erin…

Whittney’s heart sunk. The pair of them had never been particularly close, but that didn’t mean Whittney wanted to see her dead. And it was an awfully close-to-home reminder that she could be next.

Crashing footsteps suddenly grew closer once more, signalling Campbell’s imminent return. Whittney lurched with both hands and feet (feeling like a cat as she did it) and scrambled until she was back behind the relative safety of the lab bench.

For a second, all was silent. She gripped the cold tip of the Bunsen Burner, as if she could actually beat a man to death with it before he let off a single shot.

Then Campbell’s huge foot took another step forward, into what sounded like a lot like a puddle.

A puddle of blood.

‘Get up you fools!’ Campbell snarled, ‘Or I’ll kill you where you lie!’

Tan, made near delirious by fear, shouted back ‘You were going to kill us anyway!’

Fucking Tan!

Whittney almost physically hit the boy, but was too worried about dying before she would ever get the chance to. Campbell had taken a decisive step in the direction of Wil’s side of the room, but spun as soon as he heard Tan’s voice - the game was over.

With adrenaline pumping in her veins, Whittney clutched the Bunsen Burner so hard that her knuckles went white, raising it high over her head while she stood.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die trying.

Campbell had actually raised the gun until it was pointed about half way up her torso, before he lost control of the situation once again. But in that time, Whittney’s heart raced almost to the point of a heart attack. Even still, she never screamed.

That was when Wil hurled the incredibly thick textbook which he’d been nursing into a ferociously burning thing. The flicker of the flame, as well as its growing proximity, actually managed to distract Whittney’s attention, despite the fact that she was literally looking death in the face.

The first few pages on the very top and bottom of the book dissipated into the air, raining down like charring fireflies, but the bulk of the thing flew true and slammed into Mr Campbell’s chest. He was thrown off-balance a few steps as the smoke wafted into his eyes, and he had fired his weapon wildly before the last of the pages had even hit the ground.

Whittney gave herself two full seconds after hearing the blast to make sure she hadn’t taken the bullet herself, before ducking back next to Tan with a scream; ‘Fuck!’

Understanding immediately how well the fire had worked, she knew that she had to get in on some of the action - it was either that or die cowering in the corner.

Yeah… Not really my style.

‘Tan! Give me that hose!’ Whittney’s voice came out panicky, but still assertive.

In an exchange that only worked because of how familiar the pair were with each other, Whittney threw Tan her Bunsen Burner at the exact same time as he threw the long gas hose at her. Wordlessly, Tan got to work connecting one side of the hose to the fitting embedded in the Burner, while Whittney turned to face the daunting task of connecting it to the gas tap like she’d seen Wil do - the tap that sat atop the lab bench, in direct view of Campbell.

‘Watch o-’ Tan tried futilely to warn her, but Whittney had already lunged skyward.

Daring to raise no more than a single hand over the top of the bench, Whittney fumbled wildly to try and get the rubber thing over the hose-fitting. She’d done it a hundred times without looking before - in class, when caught up in conversation or a joke - but this time, the damn thing simply wouldn’t attach. Desperation and indecision started creeping in.

And then suddenly she felt a rush of wind and the whole bench seemed to shake. When her ears had caught up and heard the explosion of Campbell’s pistol, Whittney realised that she’d almost been shot. This time, she couldn’t help but let out a scream.

The bullet must have ricochetted off the gas tap, bare millimetres away from her hand. It blew off the top of the tap, which immediately started to let out a hissing sound, before bouncing off the bench and into a glass cupboard right behind Tan’s head. Glass shattered and showered around both of them; Tan let out a gasp.

Campbell was a good shot - Whittney knew she’d gotten lucky.

And I don’t want to push that luck any further right now…

Mr Campbell rushed towards them now, angling to get a clear shot; one that there would be no danger of him missing. But that also placed him with his back turned to Alejandro - who wasted no time lobbing a thick stack of flaming paper towards their attacker.

Once airborne, the sheets dispersed and flooded the air in an exaggeration of what had happened with the textbook. In the centre of flaming confusion, Campbell let loose another shot - but it flew wildly, hitting a balloon decorated like Earth on the roof.

The assassin staggered back, overwhelmed by the glowing paper still spiralling through the air.

***

Mr Black had decided that he couldn’t wait any longer.

After foolishly knocking over the drink bottle, he’d had to retreat into the darkest corner of the far laboratory, knowing that Campbell would definitely come and check what the sound was. The only reason the mad teacher didn’t see him was that the teachers’ uniforms were of the same deep purple colour as the students, hiding Black in the shadows.

I’ll have to remember to thank Tony for that one...

So Campbell had come, done his nervous sniff around, then seen the drink bottle and spun back around, investigation concluded.

Poised to strike at a moments notice, Black realised that the kids were actually holding their own pretty well - somehow, they’d started a fire, and were hurling burning shit at their teacher. Without a gun, Black felt naked - if he had of been carrying one, this would have been over already. Alas, he would have to take a more cautious route.

But then Campbell had fired - first at a gas tap and a suspiciously feminine hand that was reaching around it, and then at point-blank range around a lab bench. Not able to see if anyone had been shot, and while there were still pages of ashen paper flying through the air, Black decided he could wait no longer.

With athleticism none of the students had seen from him before, Black crept up onto one of the benches that adorned the side of the room, and sprung past Campbell - no doubt posing a figure of great menace. The rogue teacher swung around and fired at the noise without any real idea of who was actually flying past him; he was sloppy.

By the time Black had actually landed on the ground, a window had smashed and light streams of smoke were escaping the room. Boots and a single elbow crouched into Erin’s crimson blood as he made contact, but Black didn’t stay there for long - he pushed himself forward until he was next to Wil and Alejandro, leaving Campbell to bellow in a confused rage.

Retrieving the heavy metal ball that he’d taken from his classroom, Black shook it quickly to erase the last remnants of its yellow fur. Now, instead of a fluorescent yellow ball in his hand, it was a military-grade grenade; the only thing keeping it from a deadly explosion was the pin gently squeezed into its top.

Black flicked the pin out. He watched as the tiny thing clattered onto the cold ground with a rattle.

Wil and Alejandro backed away immediately, pressing their bodies against the brick wall conjoined to their lab bench, but Black paid them no mind. He waited for a brief second, and then swung out into Campbell’s (admittedly, obstructed) line of sight. Waiting until he was sure the rogue teacher saw him, Black threw the grenade high over the mans head, back in the direction of the teaching podium.

Now it was simply a matter of surviving the next ten seconds.

Nine.

Eight.

As Black had planned, Campbell caught the end of this motion, and his face split into a gloating smile - he thought the goal had been to hit him, and that he’d failed. What he didn’t understand was that he was now standing a lot closer to the blast radius of the grenade, and did not have a lab bench between himself and its full fury.

Three.

Two.

Campbell raised his gun, still smiling.

One.

The assassin pulled back the hammer of the sleek Beretta.

Zero.

The world exploded. The roar of the grenade dwarfed the sound of the gun going off for a final time, as Campbell’s body bore the brunt of the explosion and resultant shrapnel.

***

Tan opened his eyes to confront the hazy, smoke-filled classroom, and screamed. Something massive had exploded behind Mr Campbell, something that had dwarfed the rest of the fire and noise that had already been going on in every direction. A grenade - somehow it must have been a grenade; and Tan suspected that its detonation had everything to do with the sudden appearance of yet another teacher - Mr Black.

Although it seemed like this one had saved his life.

With the last dying decibels of his scream, Tan’s lungs tore open as he tried to let in a deep breathe; the pain inside was immense and massive, leading him to scream again.

Smoke, it’s the smoke.

But his lungs and mouth weren’t the only thing hurting - his skin felt singed and seared, and his heart still felt like it was going to beat its way out of his chest if things didn’t start to calm down. And it didn’t seem like things were even heading in that direction yet…

After his second scream died a long, drawn-out death, Tan realised he could hear other noises, too. None of them sounded even remotely comforting, though. One of his classmates - Alejandro or Wil - were letting out a low sob, sounding both wounded and depressed, and there were more screams of agony echoing through the smoke as well.

I just hope that they’re all coming from Campbell…

Tan tried to strain his eyes through the thick smoke that had filled the whole room, looking to see if any of his friends had been hurt. Wil was staying stoic - verbally, at least - and it was Alejandro who was curled into a ball close-by, sobbing. They both looked okay though, as did the bald silhouette of Mr Black, who seemed to be breathing through his shirt and looking for someone.

And then he saw Whittney’s figure - unmoving, and looking unusually… Small, as she lay, ragdolled in the corner of the room.

‘Whit-!’ He tried to scream, but the rancid air gagged him once more.

It was in that moment - when a frantic Tan tried to push himself up so that he could run to Whittney’s side - that he looked down to see what was holding his legs in place, and made two horrifying discoveries. That was when the illusion of calmness faded away, and panicked mayhem took over…

The first discovery was a single one of Mr Campbell’s steel-capped boots, attached to the bottom of a stump that was cut abruptly off just higher than the knee… Bloody, mangled flesh flowed with thick blood, and almost seemed to pulse.

Like it’s still trying to run away…

Tan let out a moan and shut his eyes - not wanting to come across any more detached limbs in the darkness - and felt himself draw even closer to giving up completely. It was when he tried to kick to his feet again that he made the second, worse revelation.

Erin’s horrifying corpse had landed over his chest as a result of the blast. It seemed that the grenade had done even more damage to her than Campbell had… A whole half of her face bled slowly with gashes from shrapnel which was now embedded in her flesh, and her lips were twisted into a ghastly, silent, scream.

And that was just what Tan could make out through the smoke.

With a fresh wave of adrenaline rushing over him, his whole body spasmed - finally managing to propel the extremely heavy corpse off of his form. Free at last, Tan jumped to his feet and shuddered out another scream.

Except this one almost sounded like a word: ‘No…’

His continued racket must have finally drawn the attention of Mr Black, who turned away from staring into the hottest section of the fire, and the series of screams that were echoing out from it. The history professor extended an urgent hand, as if he could actually pull Tan out of this complete madness.

‘S- Sir…’ He managed to choke out, but solicited no response.

Mr Black looked at the ground, and had to tear his eyes away from Erin’s mangled body as soon as they crossed them. But when he saw Alejandro and Wil, seemingly immobilised, the teacher took to one knee.

Extending a hand to each, he spoke in a far gentler voice than the one he used to teach with: ‘Boys, please. We really need to go.’

Wil nodded silently, accepting the hand, and was on his feet in short order. Tan turned away from watching the ordeal, and made off in the direction of Whittney. Haunted, and aware that he was sounding like a ghost, he muttered in low tones as he went.

‘Whitt… Whitt…’

She was closer than he had been to the fire, and as Tan gained ground, the heat became close to unbearable. It would have been unbearable, if it wasn’t his best friend lying in the middle, having to experience even more of it than he did. Eventually the fire drove Tan to his knees, but he reached out with a small hand, and swiped at Whittney’s shoe.

The sudden impact actually worked to jolt Whittney away - her whole body spasmed, and she let out a scream.

Valid… That’s what I did.

But instead of letting the joke leave his mind, Tan just let himself relax - the girl was alive. He tugged lightly at the bottom of her jeans - where they exposed her ankle - and she got the message. Whittney crawled in his direction, and together they travelled across the floor back to where Black had gotten Alejandro to his feet as well.

Tan recovered back to his feet, and then bent to help Whittney up - she gratefully accepted his arms, and then did something she’d only done on rare occasions during their friendship. She hugged him, fiercely.

‘Sir, what the fuck is going on!’ Wil asked, with urgency and fear lacing his tone. A single tear fell from his eye, creating a clean line in a face otherwise coated by a grey layer of smoke and ash.

‘Please just let me get you clear of here!’ Their teacher replied with equal urgency.

The smoke in the room was thick now, as more of the wooden cupboards were set alight and flaming paper continued to spiral down. The problem was that the only fire large enough to give them pause lay directly in their path to the door, and beyond that, freedom.

In the centre of the blaze blocking their way lay a sole figure, whose screams of agony had been replaced by a dead silence. Mr Campbell’s skin scorched until it was black, thus ending any threat that he had posed - but even still, he was acting as a thorn in the side of their survival.

A cruel part of Tan, one that no doubt sprung from the complete fear he’d felt, thought that there was a lot of justice in the fact that it was their would-be killer that died screaming. But Erin had died, too… He’d gotten a close-up view of that.

Whittney sniffed suddenly, sounding both wet and congested, as if she’d been sobbing for the last three hours. She coughed, but sounded as if she was rushing the motion so she could speak.

‘Gas, there’s gas! A tap blew off and I couldn’t stop it!’ Somehow, Whitt sounded even more disturbed than she had when Campbell had pulled out the pistol.

Tan didn’t grasp the importance of this straight away; considering everything that had happened in the last few minutes, he thought there was more pressing matters than a gas leak. But Black stiffened as if he’d been physically hit - and that’s when the penny dropped: If the gas caught alight, the resultant explosion would be a mimic of another grenade burst - except this time, they would be in the direct line of fire.

And we all just saw what that did to Campbell…

‘We need to get out! Now!’ Black reiterated, physically grabbing Whittney and Alejandro, and angling the three of them towards the fire.

Tan and Wil followed Mr Black as he sprung through the smoke and jumped through the fire at a dash. He let go of his students’ hands at the last minute, but none of them stopped - Tan knew that they would all be feeling the same urgency as him.

This was life or death.

With his eyelids shut as hard as they could possibly be - not only to block out the smoke, but to also make sure there was no chance of seeing Campbell’s figure up-close - Tan sprung through the fire. It was not as hot as he feared it would be, but still plenty hot enough to burn.

He screamed, both from the pain and the fear of what he was doing, but then he was through the fire. By the time he got to the safe side, Mr Black had already muscled open the thick door completely, and Wil and Alejandro had collapsed onto their knees on its other side.

Tan had to physically propel himself over the top of his peers, but didn’t mind in the slightest. Fresh air tore itself into his lungs, and it tasted better than anything in the whole word. Making the safety of the moment even more complete was the fact that Whittney was doing the same, collapsed directly at his side.

The door slammed shut behind them. Black let out a yelp - no doubt, its metal handle had grown hot to the touch - but for a second, the smoke was inside, and they were all outside.

And it was paradise.

Bare seconds after their desperate escape, another massive explosion rung out from inside the science lab. The surviving windows smashed outward as one, heat and smoke bellowing out from the holes they left. Tan felt a fresh wave of searing heat wash over his body, but wasn’t seriously hurt.

They lay there for a few moments, covered in glass shards and ash, before Mr Black mustered enough energy to push himself to his feet.

‘I should have just left when that fucking bell went.’ Tan said, panting and wheezing.

Inside the room, along with the vinyl-sealed bench tops and the wooden desks, the bodies of Erin and Matthew Campbell burned.