High School Shooting Spree

Tater tots and green beans flew through the air as Cheryl's tray fell from her hands, the bullet striking her in the abdomen and doubling her over. Dropping to her knees, she gave a load groan before collapsing face first onto the green tile floor, blood pooling around her petite frame.

Taylor studied her from where he stood against the far wall, the Remington pump action shotgun still on his shoulder, one eye squinted shut, the spent shell lying at his feet. Her eyes were open and in them he could still see a spark of life, could see the force that lurked inside of her continuing to rage within her now lifeless body. He fired again, this time at her head and was content, for the time being, that the lights were now out.

"Someone's got a gun!" A student yelled and the melee that ensued didn't merely border on hysterical, it was a full-on rampage. The kids collided with one another as they scrambled for the door, trampling mercilessly over the fallen. You could almost smell the terror and panic in the air. Taylor had figured it would come to this and knew he had to act quickly before his intended targets got away.

Fortunately he had come prepared. Not only did he have the Remington but he also carried a .357 Magnum and a .9-millimeter with plenty of spare clips for both. The shotgun would be good for close up but he would need the accuracy of the pistols for further distance. He also wore a Kevlar vest under his leather jacket, knowing that the police would be here anytime and he didn't want to be interrupted before he was finished. He had just begun and he had a lot of work to do before this was going to be over.

Taking out the .357 and scanning the crowd, he spotted Mr. Reed, a leathery old bastard in a tweed sport coat and brown slacks, a relic of a man who had seen better days long before Taylor was even born. The son of a bitch. This was all his fault, well, maybe not his fault willingly, but he was the one who had spread the contagion. He needed to go. Taking careful aim, he squeezed the trigger twice and watched as Mr. Reed crumpled to the ground, clasping his wounded chest as he did so. Taylor wasn't fooled; he knew a possum's act when he saw it. Striding purposefully forward, shoving kids out of the way as he walked across the room, he was soon standing over the old man's 'corpse'. He nudged it with one of his army boots and could feel the life force writhing and twitching beneath the codger's sinewy skin.

"You may have everyone else fooled, but not me." Taylor said, placing the gun against the man's temple and pulling the trigger. His head exploded in a spray of blood, brains and bone fragments, ensuring that this was most assuredly his last stand. God knows he had done enough already.

Someone screamed loudly from behind him and before he could fully turn around he was hit across the back with a metal chair. Stumbling forward, he still clutched the guns tightly and managed to turn the fall into a somersault, getting back on his feet quickly. Pulling the Remington up to chest level he fired both barrels into Cory Rodgers, the captain of the football team and the student voted most likely to succeed. Well, not anymore he wasn't, that was for damn sure, and it wasn't because he was now digesting a lead sandwich, no, he had been dead for days, his body just waiting to die. Taylor was glad he was on hand to help him off to a better place.

Aware now that he had to be more careful, Taylor backed against a wall as he searched for other's he recognized in the crowd. If he let them get away then this was all for naught, and he couldn't have that, not after the decision had been made to see it through. He wondered briefly how Chad and Sam were faring in the other parts of the building; they had divided the school up into three large sections, hoping to round up all of those on their list. Taylor had the cafeteria/commons area, Chad had the gymnasium and Sam had the library. Between those three places they knew they could very likely isolate their victims and put an end to this once and for all. For the love of all that was sacred, Taylor hoped he was right.
* * *
THREE DAYS PREVIOUSLY
"-And when American soldiers took the island of Iwo Jima they succeeded in overtaking the last stronghold between the Japanese soldiers and the mainland. Can anyone tell me when this occurred?" Mr. Reed asked the drowsy class in his languid, sleep inducing voice, eyebrows raised expectantly. When no one stirred his stoic expression turned to one of annoyance. "Come on, anyone?"

Mr. Reed had been covering WW Two for the last couple of weeks and-despite all of the terrible violence, the genocide and so on-the class was bored to tears. Trying to impress a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year olds with a war that was so far removed from them was no easy task and, what with his droll delivery, all but impossible. If he had been talking about the classic battle between Tupac Shakur and Surge Knight he would have fared much better, but that would be a subject for classes in the future when inner city rap music gang violence would be a topic of study. Until then, teachers had to make due with the world wars, Vietnam, Desert Storm and the Iraq Conflict.

"Come on, anybody." He prodded but not a single hand went up. "Didn't any of you read this material?"

Taylor's head bobbed up and down in an effort to stay awake. Across from him, Sam was blatantly passed out, his head in his arms and, behind him, Chad was text messaging his girlfriend on the other side of the building in Home Economics.

It was in this near-sleep state that Taylor inexplicably felt something odd, a tingling sensation on his skin and a nauseous feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. His eyes half-shut, his breathing deep, his thoughts fuzzy, he suddenly saw what appeared to be a bright light outside of the window, growing larger and more concentrated instantaneously. At once he was wide-awake, the last of the somnolent feeling erased like a videotape. Looking around him, he observed that no one else seemed to notice it; they appeared to be in the same sleep-like state he had just been in, yet for reasons unknown they were unable to come out of it like he had. Mr. Reed turned toward the window and his eyes grew wide. The light was now as brilliant as a hundred florescent bulbs and it was actually passing through the glass in what looked to be the form of a giant orb, undulating in an almost liquid fashion, like a jellyfish. Mr. Reed's mouth hung open as the light encompassed him, surrounding his body so completely that he disappeared for several seconds before Taylor could make out his body twitching as if jumper cables had been attached to his balls. The old man's hair stood on end, like when you put your hand on the electric ball at the state fair, the glass ball with the lightening inside. At once Taylor smelled smoke and, without even thinking about it, on complete automatic pilot, he reached over and shook Sam awake.

"What the hell?" Sam said, startled, drool running down one side of his mouth, when he caught a glimpse of Mr. Reed and his once annoyed face turned to revulsion. He repeated himself, only this time much slower and with more meaning: "What...the...hell?"

Not knowing why, Taylor held a finger to his mouth in the universal sign for "Shh!", and then turned to see if Chad was aware of what was going on.

Chad's eyes were as wide as Mr. Reed's had been, his mouth curved ridiculously in a tight grimace. Using only facial and hand gestures, Taylor was able to ascertain that Chad had witnessed all of this as well, and they silently watched as a slow transformation took place.

The light, which had surrounded Mr. Reed, now appeared to be coming from inside of him. It had been the size and diameter of a manhole cover but was now reduced to a smaller sphere that hovered on-in?-his chest and, as they watched, grew smaller and smaller until it was the size of a golf ball, yet continued to pulse with an eerie light, just where his heart was. Mr. Reed had long since stopped twitching but he was standing ramrod straight, his head looking up at the ceiling, his arms straight down at his sides.

"Holy shit..." Sam muttered and again Taylor shot him a look of disdain. He didn't know why, but he did not want whatever it was to hear them, for fear that it would know THEY knew. Looking around at the other students, they were in what could only be construed as a trance, a waking coma, an other worldly induced sleep. They had no idea what was going on.

And as suddenly as it started, all at once it was done. Mr. Reed stood there blinking, raising a hand to rub his chest as if he had a clinical case of heartburn. The other students began to stir, the fog lifting from their eyes, clearing their throats, coughing.

Looking around, Taylor saw no confusion in any of their stares, saw no sign that any of them had the slightest idea that something had just happened.

"Can anyone tell me the answer?" Mr. Reed said at once, his voice deeper, thicker, more masculine than it had ever been. The old man had always employed a rather high, delicate voice, prompting jokes about him being gay. It was speculated that he probably dated Mr. Gary, the psychology teacher and a known homosexual, but now Mr. Reed's voice was a full two octaves lower and his gaze more penetrating, his eyes revealing that there was now something much more intense burning behind them.

And yet, no one noticed. The class continued to stare at him blankly, unable to come up with an answer to his question. Only five minutes ago he would have fetched a sigh and threatened to make them read Mien Kampfe but now he glowered menacingly, his eyes radiating a sinister energy, his leer showing a hint of teeth.

"If no one can tell me the answer then I am afraid you will have to be punished...all of you." He rasped, his voice the sound of sand paper rubbing together. Taylor looked around and saw that all the other student's eyes were on Mr. Reed's, their faces wearing blank, rapt expressions. Cheryl Langstrom-a teacher's pet if there ever was one-sat in the front row, and Taylor saw her hands flopping up and down on the top of her desk, like two fish out of water, her jaw going slack, her tongue lolling out. Cory Rodgers sat next to her because he had a crush on her, not because he liked sitting in the front, and his mannerisms and expression was similar to hers. Whatever had gotten to Mr. Reed was now being passed to the others in the class, Taylor realized with dawning horror, and whatever it was he would be damned if it would happen to him.

"Close your eyes!" He hissed at Sam and Chad, who were hunched behind their desks silently, watching the events proceed like a television drama before them.

"Did I hear a voice from the back?" Mr. Reed growled, his eyes lifting from those in the front row and alighting upon Taylor's. For a second Taylor found himself looking into them and, from what seemed like far away, he began to hear voices, soft, lilting voices, laughing and whispering to him, soothing almost. Comforting. He found that the more he stared, the louder the voices got and, the louder the voices got, the better he felt. If he didn't know better, he could swear that he was getting an erection and there was a hot, sensuous feeling aroused in his loins, like climbing up the rope in gym class, only slowly, moving up, then moving down, a warmth that was so wickedly enticing...

And then something smacked the back of his head and after a moment of confusion he realized it was Chad's hand. At once he was jolted from his vision and for a second he felt irritated, felt as if he wanted to strike Chad back, only harder, with the intent to seriously hurt him.

"Don't look you idiot!" Chad scolded, getting to his feet and grabbing his arm. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

And then Taylor's mind came back to him, the feeling passing as quickly as an attack of gas, and he got to his feet, pushing his desk away from him, striking the student in front of him in the back. Carrie never even turned her head; she just stared toward the front of the room, spellbound, taking no notice that she had just been hit.

"You can't leave!" Mr. Reed seethed, but he was apparently locked in place, the conversion he was performing on the other students keeping him rooted where he was. The three boys went around the back of the room, noticing how none of the other students so much as glanced at them, all of their heads faced the front, all of their eyes affixed on Mr. Reed's.

At the door, against his better judgment, Taylor paused for a moment and looked back. The teacher's eyes turned toward him but before they could hone in on his own Sam punched him in the back.

"Come on asswipe! Don't you got it by now? Don't look at him!"

Trembling, Taylor hurried out the door.
* * *
TWO DAYS BEFORE THE ATTACK
The three boys walked through the halls slowly, scrutinizing the other students curiously, wondering what they had missed after their escape the previous day. As the others passed them in the halls they cringed, keeping abreast of their movements, but mostly watching their eyes. The ocular change was the telltale give away.

Yesterday, having no idea what else to do, and knowing that the principal wouldn't sit idly by and listen to them telling tales of ethereal jellyfish-like lights brainwashing their history teacher and then he in turn transforming the students into zombies, they chose to go to their favorite hideout along the bank of the Fox River to smoke cigarettes and talk about what they had just witnessed.

"Tell me I'm not crazy." Sam said, taking a hard pull on a Camel filter and handing it to Chad. "Tell me you guys just saw Mr. Reed turn into some kind of monster too..."

"We all saw it." Taylor said, holding his hand out for the cigarette. Chad took a drag and then handed it to the other who took two good pulls before passing it back to Sam. "If I had seen something like that all by myself I would be doubting if it was true or not but, since we all did, it has to be real." He sat silently for a second, contemplating it. "I mean, we didn't have a mass hallucination did we?"

"If by asking that you mean you're wondering if I slipped you guys some acid the answer is no." Sam said acerbically, frowning. "I did the last of that sheet over the weekend, and it wasn't that good anyway. If it made me see shit like that than I would have bought two sheets, trust me."

"We all know it wasn't drugs." Chad snapped, irritated at the other's banter. "We know what we saw. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

They pondered it for the rest of the day, coming up with nothing. The next morning found them all wary of going back to school, especially Mr. Reed's class.

"Look, we have to go. We might be the only ones that know about this. We have to do something." Taylor said and the other two nodded grimly. As much as they didn't want to they knew inside that they had no choice. If they could save other students from succumbing to whatever it was that got Mr. Reed and the students in their history class than it was the right thing to do.

And now here they were, walking slowly through the halls, trying to catch the other student's eyes, attempting to discern just how far this whole thing had gone.

Cheryl Langstrom and Cory Rodgers approached them as they milled around their lockers, the two holding hands yet somehow separated by an icy distance. Their eyes gave them away, told the tale that the cheerleader and the jock were no longer who they seemed to be, were no longer the innocuous flirt and the locker room brawler.

"You left Mr. Reed's class in a hurry yesterday," Cheryl said, her voice the sound of a turbulent wind breaking icicles in a subzero storm. "You'll be in trouble for that."

"But don't worry," Cory added quickly, his once sneering voice replaced by something much darker, more ominous. "You guys are eligible for extra credit. Just see Mr. Reed, he'll tell you what you need to do..."

And with that they turned and walked away, their gait stiff, forced, like there was something else inside of them that was adjusting to it's new shape and wasn't quite sure how to operate it yet.

"We gotta do something guys." Taylor said and the other two nodded somberly.
+ + +
Before half the day passed the three boys gathered all the information they needed. Everyone who had Mr. Reed for history class was infected, about a ¼ of the school's population, all of the seniors. Knowing there was no one that they could trust, and knowing that there was no one that would believe them, the three decided to take matters into their own hands to dispense of the problem the only way they knew how...
* * *
HIGH SCHOOL SHOOTING SPREE
Taylor's dad was a cop who worked the night shift. Fortunately for him, his father kept his arsenal in the basement. It was from the closet in the wood paneled room downstairs that he retrieved the Kevlar vest, the .9-milimeter, the .357 and the Remington shotgun. Chad's dad was a card-carrying member of the NRA who was away on a business trip. It was from him that he 'borrowed' a .38 special snub nose, a 30 ought six rifle and a half dozen grenades. Sam's dad was the most conservative of the three, only owning a .22 caliber handgun. Fortunately, Sam was the gun nut of the family, and he had a double barreled, pump action 12 gauge shotgun, a .44 with a rubber grip and a fifteen shot clip and enough camouflage gear to share. He lent Chad a Kevlar vest, strapped one on himself and lit one last cigarette as they gathered by the river a half hour before school started.

"Anyone that has Mr. Reed's history class has to go." Taylor said, loading bullets into several back up clips for the .357.

"What happens when the cops get there?" Chad asked, shivering slightly in the early morning cold.

"You mean when my dad gets there?" Taylor replied, looking grim. He shrugged. "Nothing we can do. Just don't fire on them is all."

"It was really nice knowing you guys." Sam said, taking a drag and handing the cigarette to Chad. "Best friends I'll ever have in my life."

"You don't know that." Chad said, taking the smoke. "You might have better friends later on."

"I don't think there's gonna be a 'later on'." Sam said and they all fell silent.

"Let's go." Taylor said after a moment and, not able to put it off any longer, they headed to school.
+ + +
Taylor heard a loud explosion and the building shook; apparently Chad had resorted to using the grenades. He didn't wonder why, in fact it was now obvious that they were in way over their heads. Sam had been right, there would be no 'later on'.

As Taylor fired round after round into the evacuating student body, only stopping to reload, he knew it was hopeless. There were just too many of them. After Mr. Reed converted the students in their class they had in two days transformed the rest of the school. The whole place was crawling with extraterrestrial creatures; before long it would be the entire town.

Distantly, Taylor heard the sound of police sirens and knew in his heart that it was over...