Population Control

Matthew I

Backpfeifengesicht - A face badly in need of a fist.

0o0

I should really learn when to shut up. Oh god my parents. When they find out I have detention on the first day I'll be dead. I should be in football practice. Maybe if Denny wasn't such a dick, I would be kicking the leather around a fake-grass pitch, But I did have every right to 'mouth off' to Denny because who in their right fucking mind keeps the school open after a fully loaded gun is down to zero in, like, an hour?

Relaxing in my seat, I got out my phone mindlessly scrolling, until Philo_SamJ. That was the kid sitting right next to me. Awfully quiet anywhere other than maths, seeming to know all the answers before the teacher had even finished the question. Turning up the volume slightly, I watched with rapt interest as the shaky camera zoomed in on the man and the dog, how the video didn't cut immediately. Rather, a few seconds after it was in his pocket and the boy began sprinting away. What the fuck was that?

A blood curdling scream cut their conversations and the post. "Bad time to ask for your number?" Jason said to Camille (who had such bad-ass hair, if that wasn't already obvious), looking at her with a nervous smile. By the look in her eye she wanted to smack him around the head: I would cheer her on.

I began to move to the door, one step from opening it. "Where are you going?" Asked Sam, looking scared beyond belief. After what he could have witnessed earlier, I didn't think it would scare him.

"To see what happened." Like that wasn't obvious already. That scream was a few seconds ago, enough with the interrogation already.

"I'm going, too." Jason grabbed Camille's arm when she moved closer to me, and she snatched it away. "It could be Anya."

Sam spoke up, "I don't think we should-"

"You can stay here by yourself if you want." I said, already making my way through the door. Everyone started to follow, Sam lagging behind.

The scream came again: just as loud but higher in pitch and. Flinging the step door open I turned too sharpish and caught myself before hitting the door. The locked office door stood between us and Anya, stuck in that box with her dad who was probably beating her!

Dylan tried the handle, shaking it so hard it could have come off. "Anya!" Shouted Camille, banging on the door that was locked

"Camille, please!" Anya cried out, another scream and then a crash as something fell on the floor.

I looked around for something to break the door with, until I caught sight of the fire extinguisher a few steps to my right, hanging on the wall. That could break through the glass bit of the door, right? Anya was definitely skinny enough to climb through- "AAAHHH!" the girl cried, and blood splattered onto the window. Her blood, oh god.

Jason saw what I was about to do, and grabbed Camille by the shoulders, dragging her out the way even when she cried and kicked in protest. Gearing myself up, I positioned the fire extinguisher like a battering ram, the larger surface area first. At full speed, I pelted at the door, successfully breaking the glass and called after her, "ANYA!" I shouted my voice hoarse.

Quivering, Anya's watering eyes found Camille and Dylan, who dragged her free. An animalistic growl emitted from the room and I don't want to know what it is or what it looks like or what it even likes to eat, even though I have a pretty good idea. Jason and I tried to get as strong a grip as possible on the full metal cabinet by the door, pulling it in front of the opening. Sam pushed it from the other side when there is a gap big enough.

Thankfully, we managed to push the cabinet in the way in time. Unfortunately, I saw it first. Only a glimpse, but it was in 1080p for me. I paused a video to focus on an image. Fucking hell, I can't begin to describe the sight. I don't want to describe the sight, so I won't. It'll be for me to know and nobody else to ever find out.

On the floor, Camille put Anya's head in her lap, watching the blood dye her polo white t-shirt red. Dylan knelt beside them, holding the girl's hand close to his heart. "You're gonna be okay." Sobbed Camille. "Just breathe, yeah? Dylan and I have you." She caressed her face, blind to the injury she had gained.

"Dad... he..." She breathed, sounding like she smoked over a pack a day. "Bit... me..."

"He's gone Rabid." Mumbled Sam. Rabid? What does that mean? He's, what, gone violent? He's gone like the man who engulfed the dog?

Maternally, Camille whispered, "Shh, shh, save your energy. You'll be fine, won't she Dyl?" In the background, the thing was pounding at the cabinet. So hard it began to wobble. Me and Jason stood in front of it, all our weight going on our feet as we pushed back, palms flat on the metal.

When Dylan didn't answer, I spoke up. "We can't hold this thing for much longer."

"Camille, we have to go." Hurried Sam.

"I'm not leaving her!"

"Look at her!" Shouted Jason, "She's not going to make it!"

"Yes she will!" Camille shrieked and took a large gulp of air. "Call an ambulance!"

Dylan took the keys from Anya's pocket; it looked like a car key. None of us will want to take the bus or walk after this. "You'll be OK, babes." She smiled at Camille, like the look of a grandmother when she knows she's going to die and has accepted her fate, only wanting to comfort those she loves now. "I'll end up like dad, won't I?" She looked at Sam, who didn't nod or shake or shrug. She'll end up looking like... that? Acting like a monster only the insane see in their nightmares?

"We have to go!" I roared through gritted teeth. Any more strain and my back will break.

"Camille come on," Dylan urged, grabbing her shoulders like Jason did earlier. "Camille get the fuck up!" This was the only time I've ever heard him shout or use a tone other than positive with her. Shocked to the core, Camille's face looked up at Dylan's and from this angle I could see the tears streaming down both their cheeks. "We have to go!" Jason and I looked at each other before relaxing our muscles just to use our legs even more. All I heard was the crash of the metal container before two groans filled my ears.

So much running I thought I was going to pass out. Reaching the car park, it was empty apart from one car, a jeep wrangler, which must be Denny's. What head teacher needs to own a jeep wrangler? "Get in the car." Dylan told everyone.

"Newsflash: none of us can drive!" I pointed out, my eyes darting from the English block entrance every now and then. It was quite a distance away now, so we should be okay for a few seconds. Hold that thought, squeeze it tight and never let it escape, because father and daughter appeared around the corner, moving at the pace of a toddler who just learnt to walk.

"I can..." Sam raised his hand.

"How?" I breathed out, done with all this surprise shit already.

"Doesn't matter, just get in!" Dylan threw him the keys that he didn't catch. Blushing, he bent down to pick them up as we all scrambled in: me at the front, Jason behind me, Camille in the middle, and Dylan behind the driver's seat.

A few minutes later, we exchanged numbers.