Apocalypse Before Finals, Julie Steimle [black authors fiction txt] 📗

corner. That car eventually followed Eric to a gas station with a mini-mart. Eric went in and bought an armful of doughnuts and a several packets of cocoa as if he were going to hoard them underneath his bed as contraband. While he did that, Jeff climbed on his motorcycle and rode over to Zormna's house to pick her up for school. He stayed at Zormna's where he raided her fridge and also took out her trash (like he usually did in the morning), while Zormna gathered her school things and tossed them into a bag. The pair left her house at seven thirty-five and arrived at the school at seven-forty. There, they had breakfast with a few of their friends at the donut and cocoa window. School would start at eight-thirty.

Around eight a.m. the exhausted agents awaited their replacements, which would come at nine when the house would be mostly empty except for the aunt. Alex usually left the house at eight-thirty, and the college students were usually gone by eight.

On cue, both college boys left the house at the edge of the suburb at eight in the morning, riding off together in their hatchback to catch their early courses at the community college. Different assigned agents awaited them at the local community college parking lot where the two men split off for class. The aunt left the house not long after them, too early for her, while carrying a long shopping list in her hands. So unusual for her, it aroused suspicion. A set of agent operatives were sent to follow her. She drove her car, an old teal Pontiac, to the local grocery store and parked in the lot. Once she entered the store, the agents trailing her waited. All that was left in the house was Alex. He had dressed himself and was apparently rifling the cupboards for a clean cup with the way he was standing and reaching around the kitchen.

"Parrrdon me? But da yu hev da time?" A voice with a thick foreign accent at the passenger-side window along the curb interrupted the watching FBI agents' thoughts.

Both men turned, peering out their window toward the one asking.

Before either man could react to who stood outside the door, two blinding shots swiftly dispatched them. Both agents collapsed, eyes wide, mouths open - and quite dead. Each small burn mark right in center their foreheads smoked, filling the car with the odor of burnt skin.

The killers opened the doors on both sides of the car. They dragged the dead inhabitants out and back to the edge of town just a few yards away where the scrub would conceal their bodies. Callously stripping them like chickens for stew, the pair of pale men tossed the bare FBI agents into the bushes, and dressed in their clothes. They hardly glanced at the agents' ids as they went through the stolen wallets, inspecting the money and bank cards. Adjusting their suits and ties, tucking away the wallets and making sure they looked the part, both strangers marched back in their new business-like attire to the car, stuffing their stripped off, blue uniforms in the back seat. They climbed into the FBI agents' car, examined the controls and dials then started it up. In seconds they pulled into the road, leaving the street across from the Streigle home.

Alex had watched all of it from the kitchen window. At first he had intended to peek through the venetian blinds at the FBI agents sitting outside, contemplating the idea that he might go out and offer them some of the cocoa Eric had bought that morning, just to tease them. They looked cold out in their car. Besides, Alex thought it might be a decent parting gesture, though they would not know it. However, he wasn't prepared for the sight of two People's Military officers coming out of the forest down the old dirt path just yards from the house. He had frozen, thinking the PMs had found their hiding place better than even Jeff had expected. He didn't make any sudden movements, in case they saw him. He just followed them with his eyes. Yet as he watched them, he realized that the PMs had merely walked to the first occupied vehicle they saw, and killed the inhabitants so they could commandeer the vehicle. His hands were shaking as he watched the soldiers from Home start the ignition with a little trouble. But then, without even looking at the house, they drove the road into Pennington proper.

Immediately Alex grabbed his cell phone.

Jeff was sitting in Mr. Humphries's class listening to his classmate read an essay out loud (the usual routine for that class), when his cell phone vibrated.

"...hard to understand since we are surrounded by people like us. But maybe it isn't so hard." Their classmate, Michael Peterson, a proud-minded junior who was the president of the chess club read on, ignoring the buzzing coming from Jeff's pocket. Jeff caught the warning look from his teacher and grimaced apologetically, slipping his phone out of his pocket.

"...We have discrimination here at Pennington High. It just comes in a different form."

Jeff opened his pay-as-you-go phone and pressed the on button.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"...We discriminate against each other by where we live. Are we a Billsburgian or a Penningtonite?" Michael read on, unaware that he had lost the attention of Jeff's corner. Brian and Adam had leaned over to listen, and Zormna turned to face him. Her eyes were still red from the cry the night before, but everyone had thought it was just evidence that she stayed up later than usual to finish her homework. All of it was complete.

<<It's Al.>>

Jeff cringed. "Al, I'm in class right now. Can't you wait for fifteen more minutes?"

The FBI crew listening to the classroom-bugs across the city perked up at this change of events. Several men keyed up the recording devices and marked this moment with an index so they could refer back to it if necessary.

Michael's voice raised a smidge, annoyed that Jeff's corner was not listening. "...We discriminate against each other by what we wear and who we hang out with. Are we a jock or a nerd? Do we wear name brands, or do we buy discount?"

Mr. Humphries shot a second warning look. Jeff peeked to the front of the room, catching his teacher's disapproving glare.

<<All right, but I thought you should know who just came into town.>> Alex's voice quaked on the other end.

Jeff went immediately green.

Leaning toward him over the aisle, Zormna mouthed, "What did he say?"

Michael's voice continued at a louder decibel, grinding with irritation. "...We discriminate, even without the racial differences. But why really? I personally think a lot of it has to do with who is sitting on the top."

Jeff shook his head at her as he spoke back into his phone. "I see. Ok." He massaged his forehead as he thought.

The FBI were listening intently. They could tell by Jeff's strained tone that something was wrong.

By this time Mr. Humphries was walking across the room to where Jeff was sitting. Zormna nudged Jeff once to let him know. He looked up at the teacher and broke into a sweat.

"...If the person sitting up top is a jerk, then those below follow suit and treat people with the same disregard," Michael read, fiercely glaring at Jeff.

"Hand over the phone." Mr. Humphries reached out his hand, palm open and beckoning with his fingers while standing between Zormna and Jeff in the aisle.

The FBI agents listening in groaned. That would end it. They would not find out anything new now. The teacher would see to that.

"Call Zormna back at the break, would you Al?" Jeff said before his teacher gave up waiting and took the cell phone from Jeff's hands.

 Michael had stopped his reading, gazing to the teacher with smug satisfaction.

Mr. Humphries lifted the small phone to his ear and spoke with irritation. "Mr. Streigle will not be able to use his cell phone for the remainder of the day, so do not attempt to call him." His English teacher then closed the phone and glared at Jeff. "You are not to take personal phone calls in the middle of class."

Not daring to say it was an emergency, knowing the FBI was listening in somewhere, Jeff sat back and let out a sigh, glancing at where the teacher set his phone on the desk.

Smug and triumphant, Michael lifted his paper again to read. "But if the people on top are incorruptible, then those under them will follow and things will be fairer for others. So if we want..."

Zormna leaned over to Jeff's desk, passing him a note scribbled in their language. He read it and nodded solemnly. She understood the phone conversation without hearing it. She knew officers of the People's Military of Arras were in Pennington.

Alex called two minutes into the break. Jeff and Zormna both stood just outside their classroom door near a row of lockers where there was enough commotion in the hallways to block out FBI listening devices as well as no CCT camera would be able to tape their conversation, waiting for Zormna's cell phone to ring. Alex didn't say much. But in brief he told Jeff exactly what he saw, everything from the dead FBI agents to the P.M.s wearing their clothes and driving their car. Jeff just listened and nodded while Zormna leaned next to the phone also to hear. Their three friends from class also waited anxiously nearby, curious about what urgent thing Alex had to tell Jeff. Jeff peeked towards Brian and the rest, quickly thinking up what he had to say to them. He said little to Alex, just: "Go. We'll manage."

Once Jeff handed Zormna back her cell phone with a shared look, his other friends pounced with questions.

"What happened? What was Alex saying? Is somebody hurt?" Brian asked. Joy nodded, anxiously listening.

Jeff started off towards class, almost ignoring the question. Zormna quickly hurried to History, looking a degree lifted and yet anxious to get moving. For a handful of seconds Adam gazed after her then to Jeff, split about who to follow as Jeff was about to answer the question, because he also had to get to class.

"Oh, it's nothing," Jeff said as he marched on. "Alex was just telling me that our folks are on vacation, and Mom called him. Dad's in the hospital. He broke his ankle or something."

This remark, of course, was for the benefit of listening FBI agents who were not far off.

Adam groaned, leaving them to rush off after Zormna.

Joy murmured in sympathy, "Oh... I'm so sorry." But then she jogged away, as her next class was on the other side of campus.

Brian was the only one still with him. Watching Jeff carefully as they went down a flight of stairs, Brian finally whispered, "What's really going on?"

Jeff blinked at him, surprised his answer really had not been enough.

"I know you're lying," Brian said, his lips going thin while his eyes narrowed on his friend.

Flustered, Jeff pulled back. He almost retorted in defense that Brian was mistaken but Brian continued. "Your answer to Alex does not match your story," Brian said. "And you get this weird look in your eyes when you make things up."

Weakly chuckling, as he realized that Brian wasn't a mental lightweight (which in most cases he liked, though it was inconvenient at the moment), Jeff merely shook his head. He finally admitted, "Look, it's better if you don't know."

Brian stared at Jeff a full five seconds then shook his head with a huff in disbelief. Unfortunately, he had no time to press Jeff for further answers. They were both in a rush to get to the second hour class. But Brian was sick of the lies. He had given Jeff a lot of leeway due to his rough background. But after the FBI visit questions had started to build up in his head. Like, why was the FBI so