One Bell Left

The plan was underway.

Cato peeked from behind the desk as a variety of teachers spread out among the hallways, their faces grotesque with pulled-back scowls full of sharp teeth, their eyes wide and bloodshot. Their hair pulled into buns or slicked back, wearing floral dresses and cardigans or ties and slacks, always with loafers. They glanced behind other toppled-over desks and chairs, bookshelves, doors ripped off hinges and used as ramps. Lockers were one of the most common hiding places, and Cato winced every time a teacher searched one. Thankfully, not all students were stupid.

Cato glanced over his shoulder to spot red-headed, wide-eyed and freckled Shannon, her hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs. Tears slipped from her eyes and down her cheeks. Cato frowned and took her hand. We’re getting out of this, Cato signed to her with his free hand as best as he could with only one. Shannon nodded and wiped away snot instead of sniffling.

Making sure the coast was clear, Cato led Shannon across the hall quickly and quietly and into the bathroom. Shannon sniffled a few times then, grabbing some tissues and blowing her nose. While she did, Cato paced, thinking about how to get out. They had to make their way through the hallway infested with teachers in order to make it to the window, where multiple children had already escaped. Well, three out of more than twenty. But it didn’t matter. Cato and Shannon would be number four and five. Or, at least, Shannon would be number four.

What now? Shannon signed. Cato didn’t respond right away. He made his way to the other door in the bathroom, the one that led directly into another hallway on the opposite side. He peeked through the keyhole of the old door, so old that it didn’t close all the way and the lock didn’t work anymore. They had run out of proper doors, apparently.

The hallway was mostly bare, save for the tangled mess of school furniture: lockers fallen over, their contents all over the wooden floorboards, desks with scratched surfaces and gum stuck to the bottoms, chairs used to barricade doors. No teachers nearby from what Cato could glean from his simple look.

He turned and offered his hand to Shannon. It’s okay, he signed. C’mon.

Shannon used one more tissue before taking Cato’s hand. He opened the door a crack and peeked out, looking more thoroughly. It seemed alright, so Cato pushed through, Shannon right behind him.

They picked their way through the mess of the hallway, trying to get to the double doors on the other side. When they made it there, Shannon reached out a hand to open the door, but Cato stopped her, motioning for her to listen.

Scratching, like claws. Howling and children screaming and the clattering of falling furniture.

We have to help them, Shannon signed.

We can’t. We have to go. We’re so close.

Cato-

C’mon, Shannon. They’ll be fine.

Shannon reluctantly nodded, and they turned from the double doors, which led to the newer cafeteria. The cafeteria had one of the only unlocked windows leading outside in the whole school. But still, they made their way through a door on the side, which led into the library. The shelves had toppled over in most spaces, making a mess of books on the ground and lots of things to duck under. On the other side was a window that led onto the roof. Surely no teachers would be there.

Due to the fastest route being entirely blocked by books, Cato and Shannon went to their right, crawling under a bookshelf leaning against another. They made their way over and under many others, until they made it to the window. It was narrow and long and broken, almost taking up the whole wall, and just tall enough that if Cato and Shannon army crawled, they could make it through.

The problem was that it was six feet up and there was no way to get there.

Cato stood there looking up, trying to figure it out, but Shannon immediately began to stack books methodically, making a staircase. Cato grinned and joined in, and after a good ten minutes of building it and making sure it was secure, the pair ascended their makeshift stairs and crawled through the window, landing on the concrete roof, wet and riddled with puddles from the rain that still fell. They linked their fingers together and walked the border of the roof cautiously, trying to find a way back into the school. Every door and window was watched carefully by a staff member or one of the Junior Scouts, aka the bullies who were teacher’s pets, making sure nobody stepped out of line.

There was, however, a window that wasn’t patrolled. One that led into the dump that regularly stunk up the playground. A sinkhole had led to it becoming a sort of sea, so full that you could walk over it if you were careful. They found a ladder at the back of the school, which led right onto the ledge over the stage. Cato hesitated, but Shannon let go of his hand and climbed down, and Cato followed her.

They landed on the small ledge that overlooked the stage, props and costumes piled in the small space. Cato and Shannon crouched as they looked around for a way down, but then they heard voices.

Shannon motioned for Cato to join her behind a box of dresses at the edge of the ledge. Peeking over the box, the pair spotted a group of teachers and students mingling in the gym below the stage. A child dressed in a black shirt and pants was hiding behind the curtains, the mic in front of his face turned off. Multiple props were piled onto the stage, and Cato and Shannon watched as the kid made his way lowly behind the blockade, avoiding the teachers, despite them being distracted by the students rounded up in the gym.

Shannon nodded toward the line of props. Cato paused fearfully again, but upon seeing the determined look in Shannon’s scared and tired eyes, he nodded. They both climbed down the ladder, concealed by the sides of the curtain, and crouched behind the pile of props. The kid with the mic was already on the other side and had climbed into a vent shaft, the grate having been pried from its screws from a previous child.

Once Cato and Shannon were on the other side, she nodded to the vent. Cato shook his head and pointed to the door beside the vent. Shannon huffed quietly but nodded. Together they opened the door and stepped out in a small hallway, descending five or so stairs and peeking around the corner. Looking down the hall towards the gym, they didn’t see anything, so they turned and headed in the other direction, towards the staircase that led down to the window.

“We did it!” Cato whispered excitedly. Immediately after both children clapped their hands over their mouths in horror.

The teachers hear everything.

Something between a screech and a howl echoed down the hallway as the gym door slammed open, revealing old Mrs. Crawford, a fat, mean old lady with glasses perched on her beaked nose, her gray hair frazzled from the stress of the kids escaping.

“Run,” Cato whispered. Shannon rushed down the stairs, Cato at her heels. Mrs. Crawford screech-howled again, and though she couldn’t run, she stomped down the hallway, limping the whole way.

“Quick!” Shannon yelled, crouching in front of the broken window and lacing her hands together. Cato placed his foot on her hands, and she lifted him up. He grabbed onto the ledge and pulled himself up before turning around and helping Shannon.

Mrs. Crawford was descending the stairs.

Cato jumped down into the dump, landing on multiple trash bags, a few shards of glass, broken wooden planks. Shannon landed beside him. Cato reached for her hand, but she didn’t see it and began running. As the door beside the window banged over and over, the barricade made from past kids falling bit by bit, Cato rushed after Shannon.

When he finally caught up to her, they stood at the edge of the dump. There was a wall there, made of wooden pallets made into a fence, looming around the dump to keep the sea of trash in. The wooden planks, although weak, made for good hand- and footholds. Shannon looked over her shoulder to see Mrs. Crawford already half across the dump. For someone so old, she sure was fast.

She began to climb.

Cato followed.

The work was slow, as they had to be careful not to snap the weakened boards from past kids. Some do, and multiple times the kids fell into the pile of trash at the bottom, then started back up again. By the time they came to the top, a narrow slab of wood, Mrs. Crawford was waiting for them at the bottom, a smug smile on her face.

Cato and Shannon looked out beyond the fence.

And Cato’s heart sank.

It was an endless forest, but between there and the fence was a void, a ravine so deep that it was pitch black, with no end. Maybe there was a ledge somewhere in there, a way to the other side. Cato didn’t want to take that chance.

“Okay, Shannon, I’m not going down there, so━”

“No, Cato.”

“What?”

Shannon looked Cato dead in the eye. “Cato, I know you’re scared. I am too. But you can’t go back there. You’ll freeze up and you won’t find a way out, and you’ll die. I know you think you’re the leader, but I’m the older sister here, Cato.”

He had forgotten about that. All those times he had led his sister, and he had forgotten that he was the younger brother, that Shannon was supposed to be in charge. He always framed Shannon as a weak girl who needed him, the brave hero, even though it was the opposite.

“Shannon, I don’t want to━”

Shannon took Cato’s hands in hers, her warm brown eyes meeting Cato’s hazel ones. “You’re strong, Cato. I know you can do it. Besides, Mrs. Crawford will go after you if someone doesn’t━”

“No, Shannon!” Cato yelled.

“Goodbye,” Shannon said. She pushed Cato off the ledge and into the ravine, and she fell over the other side.