What a weird day. It's almost hot out, and it's almost November. The thermometer on the tree outside says it is 72 degrees. Normally not what you would consider hot but the humidity is really uncomfortable. I am really missing air conditioning right now.
Today is Wednesday. My last meaningful entry was last Wednesday, so I've been slacking. Of course I only set out to put occasionally entries into you Mr. Journal, but I guess I've been enjoying getting all these memories out. Well, that and putting down some of the everyday details I am experiencing here on campus. Its actually been helpful in keeping myself more organized I must say. I definitely have been more cognizant of the passage of time, amongst other things. Not sure what I feel like talking about right now really. I know I've got a lot left to write about in terms of the trip to get to the school here that day but I am not sure I feel like writing about that. Maybe. Let's take a stream of consciousness approach and see what my fingers type out. Maybe I'll get there.
This past week has been pretty uneventful. The weather has been shitty for the most part since my last entry so I've been both down in the dumps as well as unmotivated to do much outside. Otis has reaped the benefits of me being inside though. Hes gotten a pretty excessive amount of attention this week. I haven't achieved shit around campus otherwise. I do two patrols a day now where I walk around the buildings and check the bridge to make sure no zombies or stragglers are wandering about. All week I saw nothing. I really think this was a great choice to hole up in, even if I almost died hardcore trying to get it safe to live in.
Ah fuck it, you win, I'll tell more of that story.
Alrighty then! I think it was around 7:45 or so when I finally got out of Steve's place and headed out of town to the school here. As I said before the houses were all dark, and the roads had calmed themselves down to a nearly empty point. I made good time down the side streets and finally out to the outskirts of town towards the school. I did make one last quick pit stop at the second to last convenience store going out of town. (not the one I just got the gas from, one about a mile away from that one.)
I hit the gas pump and topped off my tank. Fortunately the automated atm charging dealie at the pump was still working so I didn't have to go inside. The clerk watched me with intent worry the whole time I was pumping. She was just a little girl really, maybe 18 years old. She kept her eyes peeled on the road the whole time I pumped, and she scrammed when a car pulled in for her. I think I might've weirded her out because the whole time I pumped I held the shotgun and stood vigilant. What a different world just a few hours of nightmare can create right?
So once topped off I got back in and skedaddled. I passed a few more cars than would be considered normal on the road that leads directly to the school here. You can always tell when there's a shift change because the employees and parents are always coming and going at the same time. It's like a school of fish, moving in concert at all times. This time though it was all expensive snooty cars booking it out. Easy guess was that the rich parents who shipped their kids off to the school were picking them up to take them away. I couldn't make out all the plates in the dark, but a few I did see were from out of state.
So up until that point my assumption had been that campus would be a quiet place, where I could set up shop pretty easily that night. I could not have been much more wrong. I remember crossing the bridge to get into campus and saw half a dozen cars parked at the admissions house. In the little yard I could see maybe ten folks all gesturing frantically, clearly agitated and alarmed. I pulled my car over, grabbed my sword and .22 and got out to check out the situation.
Amy, one of the admissions women was trying to calm down about 8 parents. I took a roundabout path to come up sort of behind her so I could not only back her up, but so I could also hear better what was going on. It was pretty hysterical. I guess these parents couldn't find their kids. Anyone who has ever worked at a school, especially a private school knows that missing kids are a big deal. I was listening intently while scanning the campus surroundings. Everything was a nightmare. I could see a handful of cars all clearly crashed into random places. A few crashed into the sides of buildings, a few into guardrails, and a few into parked cars. Not sure what caused the crashes but you can use your imagination to figure that out.
I could see other cars zipping through the campus getting the fuck out as fast as they could, nearly hitting other cars and some students and staff doing the same thing. It was a solid minute though of silence before I realized that everyone had stopped talking and was staring at me. Amy had turned to face me and all the parents were giving me the stink eye. Rich fuckers.
Amy's comment got a laugh out of me. What the fuck happened to you? I remember just shaking my head confused at her. I had no idea what she was talking about. She was kind enough to point out my current blood soaked clothing and generally disheveled appearance. I remember looking down and being vaguely shocked at my own appearance. I was fucking covered in zombie goo. I had streaks of blood all over my sweatshirt, my jeans, and apparently my face. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror all day. You know, in retrospect, it might've been the fact that I looked like a blood-soaked, shotgun toting maniac that the girl at the gas station was weirded out. Live and learn I guess.
I just shook my head at her and told her it wasnt very good out there. I think I told her I had had a long day. The parents look mortified, and Amy not much different. She filled me in as the parents started to build up speed and fervor in their yelling again. From what she had gathered school had started as normal that day. (incidentally, that day was a Wednesday) As the first few hours went on, school officials realized shit was going down, and entered into lockdown mode. The kids were sealed into a few of their classrooms with their teachers, and the campus was more or less shut down. Locking the students into classrooms caused a few problems that were unexpected. A few of our kids were diabetic, and had insulin reactions or sugar attacks as my grandfather used to call them. One of our kids had epilepsy, and apparently he had a seizure due to missing some meds. These problems just compounded everything making it a very rough place to be.
Some staff just plain old walked the fuck out. Can you blame them? If I were working that day I would've been gone in a heartbeat. Parents started calling and streaming into the campus, causing total havoc. Most just kicked in random doors looking for their kids. Apparently there had been many altercations throughout the afternoon between staff and parents, as well as parents and parents, and in three cases, someone had been hurt seriously. As in, would probably die. There was no emergency response to any of their 911 calls. I knew why.
One of the parents arrived armed with a weapon only an hour prior and was taking it into his hands to rescue the kids. This guy seemed to be the one causing most of the trouble at the present. The parents were worried he would hurt more people. There was still one more pivotal fuck up to this story.
The eight parents here were trying to pick up eight kids that were still in a classroom, locked down on the top floor of the main classroom building. Amy told me that our resident off-beat English teacher Mrs. Goodell had sealed the door shut, barred it, and wasnt allowing ANYONE in. Our intrepid armed hero-parent was currently on his way to said classroom to, and this is a direct quote from Amy to: fix this bitch.
I think it goes without saying that someone who would say something like that is generally the kind of person who does less fixing of bitches, and more, totally fucking up of things. Amy also said that she had heard multiple gun shots over the last 20 minutes or so heading in the general direction of the school house. No one there knew what to do.
Well Mr. Journal I do not think of myself as a hero. It is my distinct belief that courage is not the lack of fear, but the will and fortitude to do what is necessary in spite of that fear. That night, I knew I had to make the campus safe or I could be totally fucked over by this guy.
I told Amy and the parents to get safe inside a car, or the admissions building, and that I would take care of it.
I was off to "fix that bitch."
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