Excerpt — The Death of Us All
CHAPTER ONE — SENIOR PLAGUE
The moon beamed in the black sky like a giant police spotlight, illuminating the disguised teens. Astrid sighed as she checked off the list of supplies she’d scribbled on her palm. Least they didn’t need the flashlights anymore. When she finished, she spit into her hand and cleared off the pen marks with her perfectly French-tipped nails. Tugging up the bottom of her ski mask to free her mouth, she turned around to face her gang. The four compadres were huddled together in the evening frost.
Astrid cleared her throat and started. “Tonight, is a momentous night. Tonight is the night when we fight for justice and reclaim our god-given freedom!”
With her arms behind her back, Astrid paced beside her friends like a drill sergeant observing her feeble army; they weren’t exactly the most efficient soldiers. Naomi, the B&B—brawn and beauty—was yawning loudly and trying to play Fruit Ninja on her iPhone; Jo—resident hippie—was using Naomi’s swiping arm as a pillow; Phillip—boyfriend of Astrid and genius with a small g—lay on Briley’s back, eyes drooping, using his body as a wind shield. Briley—caretaker—sat against the chain-linked fence next to Naomi, and was the only one entirely conscious. Unfortunately, that was because she kept scanning the gum-stained sidewalk and potholed-road for trouble.
There was no need, of course. Their high school was abandoned at this late hour. Vicky’s Vacuum Store and the Baby Got Tobacco smoke shop across the street were closed, and the only sign of life was a sewer rat taking a piss.
Astrid continued on, unfazed. “They have imprisoned us for 13 years, slaves to their system. We’ve worked for them, made money for them, given our heart and souls to these institutions, and how do they repay us? Right when our freedom is so close at hand, WHAM!” Here, she thrust an angry fist in their direction.
“They throw yet another obstacle in our faces! Like the merciless Pharaoh Rameses the Second, they promise us freedom, then taketh away again!” She rubbed her gloved hands together, pressing hard in the center of her palm. “So, now it is our turn; now we must stand up and show them what we are made of! This is our stand against the oncoming tanks; this is our hunger strike to protest our oppressors; this is our daisy in the barrel of an army gun. This—”
“—is why you’re not giving our commencement speech.” Naomi interrupted and everyone broke into laughter, finally waking up.
Astrid glared. “Way to ruin my speech, Kanye!”
“Oh, please.” Naomi chuckled. “We’re not fighting Sauron here, Samwise. Can we get the abridged version, please?”
Astrid turned away angrily, stomping into the street, but Phillip jumped up and grabbed her waist, pulling her back into the spotlight. “Now, now.” He kissed her forehead. “Come on, babe, finish your inspirational speech.”
She pouted, arms crossed. “No. Obviously, our futures aren’t important enough to some people. ”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Some people are getting frost bite in these thin-ass jumpsuit you made us wear.”
“Excuse me for wanting to go out with a little style.” Crocodile tears oozed down Astrid’s face. “This is our last chance to make our mark on history—“
“OMG. You’re doing it again!” Naomi held up her hands in surrender. “Please, just finish your speech—I’d like to be home before the cows.”
Astrid pursed her lips and turned her head away in mock despair. But her audience was calling.
“Speech!” Phillip yelled, standing up and fist-pumping to the sky.
Mirroring his stance, Jo echoed, “Speech! I can’t go into battle without the cry.”
Briley winced as the other three continued to shout for Astrid, her neck jerking up and down the street.
“Dammit, woman!” Naomi finally commanded. “Speak!”
“All right!” Astrid straightened up, wiping off non-existent dirt, paused, and faced them again. “Tonight is our final retribution! Will you fight?”
Naomi, Phillip, and Jo’s hands shot up and they shouted in unison, “Yea!”
Capitalizing on her spectators, Astrid tore off her ski mask, scaled the chain-link fence, and waved it in the air like a black beacon. A perfectly timed gust of wind effectively blew about her frizzy, auburn hair, and her kohl-caked, caramel eyes glittered with unfettered determination. A single, gold Ankh dangled from her tan earlobe. It matched the gold scarab pined to all their chests. She looked like the long lost daughter of William Wallace and Cleopatra.
“Who’s with me!” This time even Briley couldn’t help joining in with a meek cheer.
Astrid jumped down onto the sidewalk, thrust on her mask, and shouted, “Now follow me!”
Flipping out her all-purpose Swiss Army knife, Naomi opened the rusted back school fence in seconds; her dad owned a prominent locksmith company. Astrid gave Naomi a mock curtsy as she skipped through the open entrance, and the gang followed, each of them hauling a black backpack and two enormous duffle bags.
Upon entering the school grounds, the five crouched behind a couple of nearby bike racks. Astrid pecked Phillip on the cheek, then sent him on his way. He and Naomi ran off towards the main building to execute phase one. While normal 17-year-old boys spent their time jacking, Phillip spent his time hacking.
Barely three minutes passed before the two were running back. Well, Naomi was running and Phillip was panting behind her like an asthmatic dog in the summer heat. His tall, lanky frame was no match for Naomi’s sleek, athletic build; his most successful sport was slight of hand magic. Luckily, Astrid cast him as the geeky but sexy character in their Lifetime movie romance. With his perpetual stubble, brooding expression, unkempt black hair, and carelessly mismatched socks, he was her knight in a shining lab coat.
Phillip bent over to catch his breath. “Security system….” Breathe. “Is offline-” pause, “cameras will loop for two hours.” Breathe. Pause. “Plenty of time.”
“Might wanna start those Zumba classes, Phil.” Jo laughed.
To tired to verbally respond, he flipped her a weak bird.
“Okay,” Astrid whispered, “Are you ready? They may take our lives but they’ll never take-”
“It’s a senior prank, Astrid. Not WW3.” Jo cut short. Astrid stuck out her tongue in response, but said no more. She led them towards the main buildings.
However, Briley remained seated by the bikes. Astrid didn’t notice her absence until they were half way across the parking lot, and begrudgingly turned around.
“Hello!” She whispered fiercely. “Prank in progress, here.”
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Briley mumbled. She’d taken off her gloves and was staring at her chipped nails. “If we get caught—I mean, really, it’s just a stupid test. It’s not worth expulsion.” The others groaned.
“Is she still on this?” Jo whined.
Reluctantly, Astrid faced Briley, taking off her gloves, and placing her smooth hands over her friend’s chapped ones. “Bri, this is our legacy. Don’t you want to do something crazy every once in a while? Life isn’t that serious. You have to live a little, so that when you’re old and constipated, you can look back on your wild, teenage days and laugh.”
Briley frowned, unconvinced. “I may not live long enough to laugh.”
Astrid gave up. “Look, we don’t have time to baby you. Come or don’t. We can do the job fine with four.” She put her gloves back on. “Let’s go.” The remaining three snatched their bags and snuck towards the campus with their leader.
Briley sat on her haunches and let her internal war rage. After a few moments alone, she muttered, “fuck it,” shoved on her gloves, grabbed her bag, and ran to catch up. For once, her father wouldn’t stop her.
“You didn’t have to come.” Jo smirked as her winded friend arrived.
“I know.” Briley sighed. “But we’re a gang—even if it’s a chain gang. And besides, it is a pretty genius plan.”
“Mine always are.” Astrid grinned.
The teenagers hugged the fence perimeter as they slunk towards the campus. Not a single car was parked in the vast wasteland that stretched before the school’s back entrance. Astrid smirked. Uncle Sam was too cheap to pay for janitors during winter break. His stinginess was their opportunity.
If only she could have recorded it. It would have garnered two million hits on Youtube, easy. Inevitably then, it would find it’s way on Gawker: Student’s Innovative Senior Prank Leads to District-Wide Protest! Of course, after which would come the 20/20 interview. Oh, Barbara, I wouldn’t call myself a hero…. But she couldn’t. Evidence was a rookie mistake.
Once they’d skirted the abandoned white lines, they crossed the rear quad and turned left at the Border—the main school walkway. It ran along the inside of the Administrative buildings’ square, and branched off into numerous pathways across campus. Eleington High School was built in a set of squares within squares, like geometric nesting dolls. The outer square was parking, the baseball field, and the gym, enclosed by intertwining metal fences. After this came the administrative square. Beyond the Border, was a square of classrooms, the library, the cafeteria, some lockers, etc., followed by a smaller, interior hallway. All of this encircled the square-heart of the campus, the Courtyard, and their final destination.
Hurrying down the shadowed cement walkway, they took a right at the first adjoining path. The moon’s bulb lit their way; the only sound in the frosty night was their staggered breaths and Naomi’s heeled boots clacking against the cement.
The quintet veered right again, onto a thin, half grass, half cement area squashed between the cafeteria and the science lab. In front of them lay the Courtyard.
This central hub was a spacious, open-aired plaza, covered in weeds and yellowed grass. Starkly trimmed trees lined two parallel sides, with stubby, broken limbs. A light gray, brick wall delimited the back facing the gym, and clunky, cement steps in the front-center led to a concrete plateau, which served dually as pedestrian walkway and stage.
But the pièce de résistance of the Courtyard was the oversized, moldy-green fountain where recycled water sprouted from a hole in the head of an anorexic mermaid. It was a running joke that the hole was from a gunshot wound. As a result, the poor she-fish was covered in RIP Ariel graffiti and other, more colorful, innuendos.
Slinking along the potted plants next to the cafeteria, they hid behind an adjoining low wall to divide the supplies. Astrid glanced up to check if the coast was clear, and noticed a poster on the wall opposite them. It was neon yellow with comic sans black print that read: Hey Seniors, Take Control of the Test! In between the words “control,” and “of,” was a drawing of an Xbox controller. At the bottom, in smaller print, it said “Get Your Best Results,” and listed times for afterschool tutoring.
Astrid ran out of her hiding place and snatched the poster off the wall, crumpling it in the dirt. The newly instated, California High School Senior Postern Assessment (delightfully nicknamed, the backdoor exam), was a compulsory exit test. If the seniors didn’t pass, they didn’t graduate. Of course, Astrid knew she would pass the test—it wasn’t like it was hard or anything. It was the principal of the thing.
As Astrid framed it, like the slaves of Egypt, the seniors had worked hard and been promised freedom from this 8-hour prison, only to be constantly denied by the Pharacracy. So, it was time for some Divine Intervention.
Astrid, Naomi, and Briley were on hail duty, while Jo and Phillip dealt with the other plagues. Grabbing a majority of the duffle bags, the trio of girls lopsidedly trudged up the stone steps towards a beige building directly behind the stage, the library. With the aid of Naomi’s nifty knife, they headed from the double-doored entrance, straight through to the “Employees Only” exit, and then up two flights to reach the rooftop.
It was littered with tiny white gravel and an assortment of important looking metal structures and pipe work. Behind them stretched the baseball field; to the sides were more dirty rooftops. But the front edge was strategically positioned above the stage, with a great view of the activity in the courtyard below.
“Careful.” Astrid warned.
“Ha-ha. Since when do you care about safety?” Naomi mumbled, trying not to trip over the pebbles in her heels.
Briley remained clinging to the door like a lifeboat. She inhaled deeply, trying not to imagine just how many bones she would break falling off the roof. Two? Four? Ten? She gingerly let go of the door. One foot at a time, her ratty Chucks tested the solidness of each section of the rooftop.
“Bri!” Astrid whined. “Hurry! By time you get here, all hail will have broken loose! Ha! Get it? Hail!”
Naomi cringed, but a small smile still escaped her shapely lips. “And the biblical puns begin.”
Of course, Astrid and Naomi were already at the edge, booty dancing as they took the industrial fans from the duffels and set them in order.
To the outsider, the girls looked fearless. But Briley knew better. “Hold your locus, bitches!” She shouted back. Eventually Briley made it over, queasy, but alive, and promptly placed her butt on a stable pipe.
“Start attaching the bags to the fans.” Astrid ordered. Together, the three girls attached ten plastic trash bags full of white paper balls to the ten fans spread evenly across the rooftop. When the fans blew, the pressure would thrust open the loose knot at the end of the bag, and send its contents floating gently to the ground below. With a light rain, the paper spheres would look very convincing like hail.
Phillip had attached a GSM Multi Function relay device to the battery, which to translate nerd speech, meant they could turn on the fans whenever, from wherever, by simply sending a text. As they finished, Astrid stood up, took off her mask, surveyed their handiwork and sighed.
Sensing her disappointment, Naomi removed her guise too, and wrapped a consoling arm across her friend’s shoulder. “Looks beautiful, Moriarty.”
The two shared a sly grin and Astrid noticed a faint bruise on Naomi’s pouty, bottom lip. “That sure doesn’t.”
Wiping at the bruise self-consciously, Naomi gave a few pathetic chuckles. “It’s nothing.” Astrid continued to look at her expectantly. Naomi threaded her long, tawny fingers through her relaxed, umber-brown hair. “You know….”
“Another leaf-blower episode?” Astrid hinted, trying not to laugh at how crazed Naomi’s mom must have looked, chasing after the gardener with a rifle.
That incident was so ridiculous, it would be comical—if it was someone else’s mom. Naomi laughed uncomfortably and her hazel eyes averted Astrid’s gaze.
“No. She woke me up at 3am, screeching about needing special food for her new diet…She wanted me to go to the store immediately...we might have had a small scuffle…I may have pulled out her weave….” She and Astrid shared a real laugh.
“I gave you my house key for a reason. You should have come over.” Astrid said.
“She would have just come after me and set off her stupid ankle bracelet. Then the police would come, and the twins would cry, and the neighbors would watch us through their stupid windows like were some escaped zoo animals. It’s better to just suffer through.”
Astrid’s face was serious. “You don’t always have to play the martyr.” She paused. “That’s Briley’s job.” They both smirked and Briley, who’d been pretending to work as she eavesdropped, stuck out her tongue in response.
Naomi shrugged with a half-smile. “Hey, six months more of suffering and I’m free.”
#
Twenty feet below, the other two cohorts were keeping busy.
When the five separated, Jo marched through the Courtyard to the brick wall. Before she set to work, she reached in the side pocket of her backpack and whipped out a cigarette, wishing it was a joint—she’d forget faster that way. She took a deep drag, her cerulean eyes concentrated, and appraised her canvas. Automatically, she lifted her thumb to her mouth and bit at her ragged nail beds. She smiled. Christine hated her nails.
Holding the cig in her mouth, she took off her backpack and removed the eight cans of NeverWet spray. Astrid may have been the wizard behind the curtain of their caper, but this trick was all Jo. It combined art, magic, and anarchy—everything she believed in. One day, she knew this piece would feature prominently on her Wikipedia page.
She also pulled out a thick stack of folded cardboard stencils from her duffle and lined them up against the gray divider. Grabbing her first cutout, a giant capital “L,” she uncapped the base coat spray, and with a mischievous smile, got to work. When she finished painting, the wall would look exactly the same—a lifeless gray barrier. But NeverWet had an off-label use: invisible ink. Only when it reacted with water, or rain in this case, would her message be revealed: Let My Seniors Go.
Jo soon lost herself. She forgot the look on her father’s face earlier, when she spitefully refused to hug him goodbye at the airport. She forgot the way her mother’s diamond ring gleamed on Christine’s skeletal finger when she opened Jo’s passenger door. She even forgot the fear of knowing that everything was going to change. Momentarily, she lost her sorrow to the haze of the aerosols and the flick of her arm as it transformed the ugly blight into a declaration of war.
#
In the middle of the quad, Phillip was hard at work doing the impossible: turning water into blood. And releasing a bunch of frogs. His game plan wasn’t quite as theatrical as blood gushing out of every water source in the school, teachers drenched in red, and student’s screaming about the apocalypse—Astrid’s original plan—but it was the best he could do on short notice.
Gently, he removed his backpack and methodically extracted his materials, discarding their bubble wrap, and placed them on the fountain ledge: one glass beaker, five large mason jars of frogs, one vial of amphibian protein pheromones, and two bottles of phenolphthalein solution.
As he grabbed the beaker to measure out the solution, he noticed a tiny pink kitten sticker was stuck over the 150ml. He smiled. That’s where that was. His room was off–limits during games of Stick-and-Seek, but Allie always snuck in anyway; she hated to lose. He’d searched for this stupid cat for hours.
Measuring his solution to the sticker, he added that, and all his remaining ingredients to the fountain. When the last frog settled in it new home, Phillip wiped off his hands and smiled. On the day of, he’d add an additional solution to the filtration system to turn the water red. For now, he relished in a New Years Day well spent. But his smile faltered slightly. An open year, completely unwritten—the thought unsettled him. Who knew what fate would write on the blank page of tomorrow? But he shoved the dark thought quickly from his mind. He knew his page was never blank with Astrid.
#
It took about an hour and a half to finish all the respective pieces. They reassembled at the fountain and Astrid did a 360 of their handiwork. When the clock struck 9am next Monday morning, the hail would rain, the frogs would croak, the blood would run, and their words would blind the meek. A lone teardrop fell into her mask.
“This prank will be legendary.” Naomi said. “No one will be in “de-nile” about that.” Her friend’s rolled their collective eyes. “Oh, come on! De-nile!”
“Been savin’ that one for a while?” Jo asked.
“Oh, shut up.” Naomi mumbled. Phillip motioned to his beat-up wristwatch and Astrid got the hint.
“Okay, bitches--”
Phillip frowned at her.
“And bastard. Let’s Moses on out of here!”
They hastened back the way they came, their footsteps lighter with now empty duffels. Lost in the bliss of a mission accomplished, no one paid much attention as they danced lithely down the dark hallways. They didn’t even bother to lower their voices.
“I need a joint. Stat.” Jo declared, skipping arm in arm with a giggling Briley. “Smoke out at my place? We can raid my dad’s good French wine!”
Everyone cheered this idea except Briley. “We should probably sleep guys. We do have to be up in like, 4 hours.”
Astrid waved her suggestion away as they rounded a corner onto the Border. “We’ll sleep on the--”
She stopped suddenly. Everyone halted except Naomi, who smashed into Phillip’s backpack and almost fell over. Directly in the middle of the hallway ahead, was a janitor. Eyes panicked, the friends paused, holding their breath.
Fortunately, not only was his back to them as he pushed along a cart of paints and tools, but he was wearing headphones. Astrid made a face at her friends in mock-horror, and shooed them backwards.
Unfortunately, this was the exact moment in which Briley’s phone decided to ring—a synthesized version of Coldplay’s Trouble. Blaring like an overeager war trumpet, the phone suddenly thrust Astrid’s pathetic army into battle. They scrambled backwards, sprinting down the adjoining hallway, and were spared a few precious seconds as the noise registered against the janitor’s own music. He swiveled suddenly just as Astrid flew around the corner, catching a glimpse of her black boots.
He removed his earphones and shouted after her, “Hey—Hey you!” Abandoning his cart, he ran after the mysterious boots.
As the teens fled down the tiny hallway, Briley snatched her phone from her pocket and muted it. Astrid read the Caller ID over her shoulder: ANGEL.
“If we get caught because of your fucking booty call,” Astrid whispered furiously to Briley. They ducked down another hallway, the ominous clomping of the janitor’s footsteps trailing closer.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Jo mumbled as they took a left and hit a dead end. They backtracked and narrowly missed another encounter. Briley started crying.
“We can’t outrun him like this!” Naomi said, frantically searching for a place to hide. They dashed across the side quad, around the cafeteria, and down another end of the Border. The heavy steps of their pursuer had stopped, but that only scared Astrid more. As they spirited past a wall of familiar, mint-green lockers, Phillip suddenly thought to try each classroom doorknob. The second to last one opened. He signaled to the others and they swiftly jumped inside, closing the door as quietly as possible behind them.
Astrid stood on a bookcase by the door and peered out the window—three seconds later the janitor raced down the hallway from the direction they’d just been heading.
Now that she could see his face clearly, she recognized Jerry. This was a slight relief. Jerry was a young, Asian guy with shaggy hair, tattoos, and too much time on his hands. He liked to flirt with the attractive girls at school—harmless but still creepy.
Jerry stopped at the other end of the corridor and glanced both ways. When he didn’t see anyone, he paused and shouted. “Whoever you are, you better come out, or I’ll call the cops! You’re trespassing on private property.” He turned right and disappeared, and Astrid moved away from the window. She could still hear him yelling his ultimatum down another hallway.
“He’s gonna call the cops! What are we— we’ll be expelled…my dad’s going to be so angry…ay dios mio….” Whenever Briley got hysterical, she always started speaking in Spanish.
Astrid gritted her teeth and held back a vehement retort. Instead, she analyzed their options.
“You think he’s bluffing?” Jo asked. Astrid shrugged her shoulders. Possibly. But they couldn’t wait him out to see. In exactly ten minutes the security cameras would start working again.
She glanced at Phillip and saw he was thinking the same thing. It was risky to make a run for the exit now—they were too far from the fence and Jerry could be around any corner. But if they stayed, they risked being videotaped.
Astrid narrowed her options down to the only viable solution. She removed her mask, gloves, and pin, tussled her hair a bit, rolled up her sleeves, grabbed her backpack, and headed for the door.
Immediately, Phillip blocked her path. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She kissed him passionately on the lips, and while he stood momentarily confused, pushed past him and out the door. “Saving your asses,” she answered.
Once outside, she stomped loudly down the hall towards her locker. She heard Jerry running up ahead, and she hit her locker just as he rounded the bend.
“Hey! What are you--” he paused, recognizing Astrid. “Oh, hey, Astrid.” His stance relaxed, and he ran a hand through his greasy hair. “What are you doing here so late? You scared me, man.” He smiled crookedly.
“Oh, hi, Jerry. It’s you!” She pretended to look both relieved and excited. “Sorry! I know I’m not really suppose to be here,” she lowered her eyelids, trying to look contrite, “but…Mr. Vasquez, see, he gave us a shit-ton of homework over the break, and I-I forgot a book I needed in my locker.”
He furrowed his brows, confused. “Oh. Why’d you run away from me, then?”
She smiled sheepishly, twirling an auburn lock. “You scared me. I couldn’t see who it was in the dark, and I knew I wasn’t suppose to be here…so I panicked.” Her voice dropped off at the end. “If I’d known it was you….”
This seemed to excite him. “Oh, yea, I understand. I freak myself out all the time. I keep telling Mrs. Bells we need better outdoor lighting.”
“Oh, I don’t know…sometimes the dark has its uses....” She winked.
He smiled. “You alone? I thought I heard someone else.”
Astrid fiddled with her locker code. “Just me.” Jerry inched closer. “But…um, my mom’s waiting in the car—she was calling me when I saw you and freaked. Maybe you heard me talking to her?” Her locker finally opened and she snatched the first thing she could reach: a thin white textbook entitled, 2013 APA Guide. She laughed flirtatiously. “I tried to Google this crap, but you know, books are just so much easier.”
Jerry smiled and nodded. “Yea, you’re one of the smart ones. I never found books that easy, but that’s probably why I’m a janitor.” He winked. She blushed. “How’d you get in, anyway?” He asked casually.
She took a gamble. “The back gate was open.”
“Oh, really….” He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll have to check on that.” He inched closer.
Throwing her book into her backpack, she slammed her locker shut. “I should probably go…my mom’s waiting.”
He frowned. “Oh, yea. I’m heading out too, finally. Been here all day, fixing up the auditorium for those big-wigs coming next week.” But he regained his verve. “Maybe next time I’ll leave the back gate open on purpose?”
With a clever grin, she tossed her wild hair and said, “Maybe I’ll forget another book.”
He grinned widely as she strutted away. When she was out of sight, he put his headphones back on and went to collect his abandoned cart. The minute he was gone, Astrid jumped out from her hiding spot and hurried into the open classroom.
The second she popped in, Phillip pounced on her. “What the fuck was that, Astrid?”
Jo was sitting on the windowsill, shivering and biting her nails. Briley was cowering in a corner; her normally olive-brown skin was an unhealthy vomit-green. Her tears fell in pools onto Naomi’s soaked shoulders.
Astrid ignored Phillip and directed her gaze at Briley. “You. Almost. Ruined. EVERYTHING!” She scream-whispered.
Water continued to tumble freely from Briley’s tiny, black eyes, but her thin lips couldn’t manage more than an unclear murmur.
“Hey, now.” Jo defended. “It was a mistake.”
Phillip continued ranting. “ I can’t believe you put yourself in danger like that! Alone with that creep!”
Taking a deep, trembling breath, she spoke softly. “We need to go. Now.”
She turned about face and walked out the door.
Withholding his frustrated scream, Phillip balled his fists and went after her. Jo and Naomi paused, exchanging worried glances, before helping a sniffling Briley to her feet.
“Astrid saves the day, again.” Naomi mumbled sarcastically.