David was working on some extra-credit math assignments, having completed the regular class assignment in a matter of minutes—something the few students who were healthy enough to show up that day were all struggling with—when an announcement came over the PA.
“Attention all students and faculty: this is not a drill. A state of emergency has been declared in the city of Sydney. Everyone gather up your things and head to the foyer in a calm, orderly fashion. Students and staff will be bussed to the nearest designated safe area.”
Everyone else started chatting. David could hear kids in the hallway. One said they heard machine guns, and another said he heard an explosion. David had heard neither, so he figured the kids were lying to sound cool. Outside the window, everything looked perfectly calm. A lot of cars were pulling up, but no one was panicking—not the way they would if a bomb had gone off or a machine gun was fired.
Before he could pack up his things, a bus pulled up and David was surprised to see a group of adults in it. A man in a bland green military uniform got off and met with the somewhat frazzled-looking principal on the sidewalk. The colonel—David did a Social Studies project on military uniforms in Grade 7—said something David couldn’t make out, but he assumed it was something along the lines of “keep everyone calm.” He wondered where the safe area would be, and if Nicole would be taken to the same one.
The nearest safe zone for David was his old school, Colby Elementary. It was strange, though—extending from the far door on the east side of the building was a large plastic tube; a tunnel, just like the one they used in ET: The Extra-Terrestrial when they wanted to keep Eliot and ET separated. This tunnel connected Colby to St. Joseph’s, the Catholic school across the street. “Someone’s God is gonna be pissed about that,” he heard his English teacher say as he entered Colby. Barricades were being set up on the street on either side of the tunnel to keep it safe from traffic.
Other than that, the school hadn’t changed since he attended. Upon entering the front door, there was the option of going left—to the principal’s office and staff room, going right—to the staircase leading upstairs to the older kids’ classrooms, or going straight—to some lower grade classrooms and the school gym. The colonel, however, removed all options when he led the group to two sergeants who took them to the gymnasium.
When they had arrived on the bus, David saw a row of desks lining the parking lot. Through the small classroom-door windows, he could see why: other people in uniforms were setting up tables, cots, and other emergency furniture. Earlier, David hadn’t expected to stay too long. Now he wasn’t so sure.
As he passed through the hallway, David noticed a man in another uniform—more like a hospital uniform than military—standing in front of the back door. The door that, thanks to the brand-new plastic tunnel, connected Colby to St. Joseph’s. Evidently, they were not letting people pass through.
When David entered the school’s gym, there were about two hundred people inside.
Within an hour, there were nearly a thousand—way above the fire code limit.
David sat on the edge of the gym’s stage, watching the crowd. He knew some of the faces, but not many, since this wasn’t his neighbourhood any more. He wondered if he had been at home, would he have ended up here, or would he be placed somewhere else, or—
“Is there anything to drink around here, spaz?”
“You used to go here, too.” He played it cool, despite Nicole startling him. “You know where the fountains are.”
“Ugh. I mean in here, stupid,” she replied, looking around at the worried faces. “They’re not letting people roam around the halls, so they’re gonna have to bring water and food and stuff. But, I’m guessing they didn’t yet. I’m thirsty.”
“Your thirst is a top priority to everyone here,” David replied with a smirk.
As if to emphasize his point, the doors to the gym rattled as a man, shouting at a few uniformed men, was practically dragged in. The man questioned the point of all this if they were just going to leave kids out there on their own, which made David wonder exactly what was happening that was so horrible? Did the man know something that the rest of them didn’t, or was he just panicked?
Before he could get his sister’s thoughts on the subject, she caught his attention with a glare. “You’re an idiot,” she said, before stomping away with crossed arms.
David was torn. Obviously, Nicole wasn’t too concerned; she took the time to insult him, after all. But, at the same time, it wasn’t her usual witty comeback. There was no violence against him. She could be worried, or just irritated, he thought. Then he recognized her backpack; not her new black one—to match her new black everything—but rather her pink and blue one from years ago. From when she didn’t care about looking cool or goth or whatever she was now. He knew she had it on her for one reason: it was her survival pack and she was not going anywhere without it. He knew she had packed water in it. She’s not thirsty. He jumped off the stage and hurried after her.
“I got here a little over an hour ago and I was one of the first groups,” he told her when he caught up, wanting to at least have someone to talk to. “I haven’t seen too many emergency
