We Live

((Author's Notes: Wrote this as I entered Ruamrudee International School. The story may have a school as a backdrop, but it is not RIS, only inspired by it. Anyways, was bored and daydreaming. I think the only decent short I wrote.

Finished: 7/5/2006))

We Live

It started as usual; the teachers droning on and on about one thing or the other. Besides, the school has an alleged curse. Some say it was the international renown of the school that attracted terrorist like flies to a corpse. Some say it was the security. Whatever it was, no one could forget the Fun Fair Fiasco. From out of nowhere, armed men burst from the Middle School 4^th floor and open fired, interrupting a horrible rendition of My Chemical Romance, and that was the only good thing. When the authorities arrived, they decided to send in troops. They rappelled down from a Huey and started spraying the building with automatic weapons in an attempt to suppress the unknown amount of men in the building. Then, for reasons still unclear, an explosive went off on the third floor. The initial blasted killed the majority in the immediate vicinity while the shrapnel shredded what was left of any survivors and this was still not taking into account the falling debris. It is a surprise people still enroll in this school. The school probably did not offer refunds.

Today however, no one suspected anything. Well, not until someone burst through the door, claiming that we were under attack. We then noticed a crimson blotch on his shirt. That was when he collapsed and an armed man stepped through the door. He was being shouted instructions, in Thai. That was when the nearest student leapt up and grabbed the man by his arm and shoulder and whipped him into the Antigone board. The man could only hear the boy’s last words, “lights out, Minge bag,” and then lost consciousness from the cranial trauma.

It was not the time for doubts; he would have to make sure the students got out of the school to warn the authorities. The only help he could possibly muster was that of the ROTC boys. There as an unknown number of armed men with Kevlar, wandering about in the high school building. These men were also sporting high caliber desert eagles as well, rendering the Kevlar quite useless. After all the deagle was one of the pistols that had enough power to allow such a high caliber bullet to go through a human body.

Eventually he got them all out, or so he thought. When he heard a scream from a nearby room as he was about to leave, he rushed to where it had originated. He peeked into the room. It was dark, save for one light source. How could he forget her? He could make out the contours of another individual, as well as his gun, which looked like an Ingram MAC-10. American weapons, these guys are serious. His own gun, that he scavenged, had only one round back in the clip. He did not want to waste it nor risk hitting her either. He had to think quickly. The magazine was inserted. He could sneak in? The bullet was chambered. No time to think he had to act now. The safety was flicked off. That was when he acted.

Jumi was about to die and Jumi knew it, thoughts crossing her mind at breakneck pace. Then the door opened blinding her for a moment. Her would-be assassin turned around and Jumi witnessed a knife plunging in the back of the terrorist.

The man collapsed, looking to the only light source as if his misguided ideology would save him now. He cast a shadow over him. He did not deserve his mercy. His bullets were his mercy. The man could hear a loud noise and then, nothing.

Jumi leapt at the sight of, or what was, a human cranium. It seemed not to concern him. He was limping slightly too but he didn’t bother, instead he went straight to scavenging. Picking up the Ingram, he told her to hold it for him. With that request, they made for the gate.

The looks on the officers’ faces were priceless. However this soon changed into a twisted grimace of horror as armed men burst from the nearby hall. He caught the gist of what they were trying to say and he made her duck for cover. That’s when the staccato bark of assault rifle fire tore through the air. A stray struck him in the shoulder. Jumi saw him land on his back next to her. He looked dead but his eyes opened once again. In quick whispers he asked for the Ingram. He loaded it and asked her to get up and run for the main gate as soon as he stood up. Once he got up, he opened fire, struggling against nausea, pain and unconsciousness. Despite the recoil he managed to subdue the men. All this time Jumi watched, ignoring his request, and saw another round go through his abdomen. Once it was done he turned around to look at her.

“You’re hurt,” Jumi said.

“Oh, yeah.”