Death’s Little Angels
A novel
By Sylver Belle Garcia
Death’s Little Angels
Copyright © 2014 by Sylver Belle Garcia
Cover art by Paul Beeley
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental and unintentional. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Your respect and support is truly appreciated. Thank you for downloading. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
**********
Grateful to my savior for giving me the ability to write.
A special thank you to my mommy.
Chapter 1
You can never hide from death.
It will always find you, one way or another.
The day was bleak and windy at Stoney Central Middle School. The hot, crisp, summer spell was nearing an end, as hurricane season shined at its brightest being early September. Stoney Central Middle School was located in the heart of Wiggins, Mississippi, an ordinary quiet rural town, where it was not uncommon to see cows, chickens, or coyotes roaming around in your front yard. Wiggins was nestled in between the retirement city of Hattiesburg and the coastal city of Gulfport, Mississippi. It was unknown by many but held some of the brightest students that the state of Mississippi had to offer.
Twelve foot, barbwire fences surrounded the middle school. One: protection from flying debris in the event of a hurricane or tornado. Two: safety from the local prisoners who labored around town on several work duty programs. There were two padlocks that secured the gates at the school, one at the entrance and the second at the back where the car riders and buses entered. The gates also deterred any students who had the idea of skipping school.
Hurricane Angel, which was downgraded to a category one, threatened to hit the small town and the entire Gulf Coast. The school was currently in the process of initiating the hurricane drill that was reviewed and executed countless times. The principal, Dr. Bradford, came over the intercom instructing students that they would be dismissed momentarily into the hallways to take cover. He was a light skinned black male in his early thirties with a squeaky Mister Clean baldhead, as the pupils would refer to him. Dr. Bradford was very personable with each of his students. He even made his personal cell phone number available to all of the parents. Therefore, when Dr. Bradford made his presence over the intercom or in person he had the entire student body’s undivided attention. The students sat solemnly in their tight wooden desks listening to the announcement as the school began its lockdown. Fortunately for this particular classroom the window that led to the outside world gave partial view to the street, the car rider lane, and the football practice field. So it was not uncommon for students in Math class to gaze off into the window and daydream.
It was the beginning of second period. The eighth grade students sat rigidly in their seats as Mrs. Westwood, the seven-month pregnant math teacher, reviewed the worn drill. Hardly any of the students listened. Some wrote letters while a few sneaked whispers amongst each other and only one like Drew Jacks…. dozed off. His head hit the desk like a hammer.
WHAM!
The students immediately fell out of their seats with laughter.
“Class! Settle down!” Mrs. Westwood squawked. She rubbed her enlarged belly. “Did you have a long night, Drew?”
“Um…” Drew drowsily opened his eyes.
“You are always sleeping in my class. I am going to need you to stay after school today if you can’t stay awake, to make up your work. That is if the weather permits.”
“Ugh…”
Drew rubbed the newly red knot that began to form on his forehead. He studied the classroom blinking his crystal blue eyes. His tussled dark brown hair fell to the side of his face and covered one eye. He licked his full pouty lips, an asset that drove all the girls mad. Most of the girls were crazy about Drew’s picturesque face. The chiseled chin, full lips, and defined features were all to perfect. Unfortunately, he came from a broken family, which made him an outcast amongst his better to do peers.
Drew glanced over at his crush since the first grade, Sue Ellen Lee. She stared at him with a crooked smile at the corner of her mouth. Drew watched as the love of his life tightened her messy ponytail and winked her eye.
You’re so beautiful, Drew thought as he marveled at her dark hair and eyes like milk chocolate, his favorite candy. Her pale skin glistened underneath the twinkle of the classroom lights.
He snapped out of his daze as the snickering continued. Drew despised some of his classmates. Do gooders. They were so immature. Nobody cared why he did not get sleep last night. He spent his fourteenth birthday looking for his deadbeat mother. No one knew that he had been up babysitting his two younger sisters all night, on his birthday, because his mother decided not to come home again. Maryann was the middle child. She was in the fourth grade and had toffee brown hair with light brown eyes. Drew always argued with his sister Maryann because of the pranks she consistently played on him. Grace, the kindergartener, was the youngest of Drew’s siblings. She was the fair haired, blue-eyed child. It was rumored that Grace looked so different from Drew and Maryann because her father was someone that their mother met at a bar in Alabama. Nevertheless, Drew loved and cared for his little sister just the same.
Drew leaned back and let out a big yawn. He was extremely exhausted. He had been watching the clock all night medicating Grace, for her head cold, with yucky purple juice, as Grace would call it. Drew was thankful that Grace did not have to go to school today. That meant he only had to help Maryann get ready, before they walked to their grandmother’s, also known as Mee-maw, house to catch the bus in the gloomy weather.
Drew’s mother had managed to rent a run down trailer that was not fit for a dog to live in. There were holes all throughout the floor and there was no running water in the mobile home. This meant nightly baths at his grandmother’s house, which meant late nights and early mornings. Drew and his sisters felt the seasons every year in the trailer. Due to the lack of insulation and exposure to the elements, when it was cold it was ice cold and it when it was hot it was scorching hot in the trailer. Having food in the trailer was always an issue and hunger ran rampant. However, walking to the grandmother’s house for late evening meals was more than sufficient to keep Drew energetic for the game of baseball.
Drew studied each of the classmates. He wondered if both parents, a single parent, or no one was raising them at all. Drew’s mother had so many boyfriends that it was hard to keep up with them. The so called uncles were brought home after many drunken nights at the bar and they were many nights that the fights kept the children up. Drew’s grandmother had fought a many of years to take custody of both him and his sisters but the social worker always had the excuse that their case was backlogged due to lack of staff. Unfortunately, Drew and his sisters were lost in the system just like every other poor kid in the state.
His grandmother… his Mee-maw. Thinking of her brought sweet pleasure to his heart. She was a decorated veteran that had served many years in the military and was the first woman during her time to be a part of a special operations unit. It was his Mee-maw that encouraged him to play baseball, an outlet, to channel all the anger he had built up against his mom. The weird thing was…. he was actually good at the sport and enjoyed playing first base. It was no secret, when Drew was up to bat, he would
hit a home run every single time.
Why me? Drew thought as he sleepily rubbed his eyes. He thought of his non-existent mother. Why Maryann and Grace? We don’t deserve this.
His mom did not come home last night. Drew was not sure if his mother was holed up in some bar or had finally landed a spot on America’s Most Wanted. No one understood why he stayed in trouble at school so much. It was because someone always had something smart to say about his family. Drew’s peers never understood his struggle because they never had to parent their younger siblings. No one at school knew what it was like to go to bed hungry or worse dodge flying fist from one of their mother’s many boyfriends.
He had a flippant attitude and enjoyed fighting the rich, spoiled, popular jocks. Drew’s attitude was the only way to get back at his mom and it got him suspended off the baseball team for the entire school year. What was the coach going to do without the best first base player that Stoney Central Middle School had ever seen?
Probably lose every game, Drew bitterly thought.
Drew took note of the ones laughing. Losers. They were not going to be in the yearbook or newspaper this year. With Sue Ellen, being the editor in chief, he would convince her to do that. Or best yet, bribe her with his lunch money. Sue Ellen was a hard to please girl and very firm with her words. Many of the popular kids, because of Sue Ellen’s harsh attitude, disliked her even though she came from a middle class well to do family.
We will see who is laughing once I make it pro baseball, Drew thought silently as he glared at some of the students.
McKenzie Ward, a dark haired girl, who sat in front of Drew, raised her hand anxiously. She leaned forward towards Mrs. Westwood in an attempt to get her attention. Mrs. Westwood ignored McKenzie’s hand and stared at Drew. McKenzie narrowed her almond shaped eyes at Drew then smacked her thin lips. She was from a prominent family who owned most of Wiggins, the only child, and was accustomed to getting her way. McKenzie began drumming her fingers loudly on the desk.
“Drew Jacks?” Mrs. Westwood continued to ignore McKenzie’s fits and widened her eyes as she waited for an answer. “We are in the midst of a hurricane—“
A loud piercing scream that sounded like someone was being tortured erupted outside of the classroom. The snickering immediately stopped and the students sat rigidly in their desks as an eerie silence fell over the classroom. Drew immediately glanced over at Sue Ellen who was currently trying to get the attention of her best friend Mattalie “Mater” Butler. Mater’s mouth was wide open and frozen in an expression of the letter O.
Mater had an olive complexion, lengthy legs, and long dark brown curly hair that she kept French braided in one plait. During the cold winter months, there was a many a night that Mater walked over to the small trailer where Drew lived to bring left over firewood that she and her younger sister Marley had chopped for the day. Drew considered Mater a good friend even though she had taken a major liking to him. It was to bad that Mater went out of her way to do extras for Drew and his sisters. It pained him to know that she was head over heels for him.
Mater rose up in her seat in an attempt to look out the classroom door.
Mrs. Westwood immediately stopped drilling Drew and quickly walked to the classroom door and opened it. Her neck crooned around the corner as the students sat stilled in their desks. She stepped back inside and closed the door softly. McKenzie’s hand rapidly flew up again, accompanied by squiggling movements in her desk. She looked like an earthworm.
“Yes, McKenzie?” Mrs. Westwood hesitantly asked.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“You went a few minutes ago.”
“Well, I need to go again. I can’t hold it,” McKenzie jiggled in her desk and made jerking moves.
“You are so melodramatic,” Mater mumbled.
“More like a drama queen,” Sue Ellen added rolling her eyes.
“Watch it trailer trash,” McKenzie snapped at Sue Ellen.
“Girls, stop it! McKenzie…” Mrs. Westwood nervously glanced at the door. “I really think you should wait until I call the front office to see what is going on, first.”
“My grandfather would not be happy if he knew my bladder exploded,” McKenzie whined. She threatened the teacher with her slanted eyes as they tightened at the corners. Everyone knew that McKenzie’s grandfather owned half of Wiggin’s real estate. The family’s house was about the size of the local elementary school.
Mrs. Westwood went to the desk to retrieve a pass for McKenzie. McKenzie glanced back at Mater and Sue Ellen and turned up her nose. She rudely snatched the pass out of Mrs. Westwood’s hands before exiting the door.
“On your way out…fall and break your neck,” Sue Ellen hissed under her breath at McKenzie as she watched her exit the classroom. McKenzie glanced back with a smirk at Sue Ellen and flipped her thick healthy strands over her back.
“No more sleeping in class. That goes for everyone. I need you well rested and ready to learn,” Mrs. Westwood said as she walked in front of the class. “Now we are going to review the hurricane drill one mo—“
Several bone curdling screams were followed by what sounded like books and desks being thrown up against the wall. The students in the class immediately began to shuffle about in their desks unaware of what was going on beyond the classroom doors.
“Class calm down, please! This is a part of the drill,” Mrs. Westwood said as she glanced nervously towards the door.
“Yelling doesn’t sound like a part of the hurricane drill,” Drew said biting his bottom lip. He turned to look back at Sue Ellen who melted like butter in her seat.
“Drew, may you please keep quiet?” Mrs. Westwood responded with agitation. She waddled over to the classroom door and plastered her face in the elongated window that gave view to the hallway.
Drew glanced out the big classroom window that gave view to the outside world. It seemed as if there was going to be a hurricane today. He knew that Hurricane Angel had been downgraded to a category one but the sky had darkened since 8:00 a.m. and the strength of the wind had picked up.
Grown ups… Drew thought. I would never send my kid to school even if it drizzled. He continued to stare outside and wondered what Mee-maw was doing at this moment. He thought about the day ending quickly so that he could go home and practice baseball. He would play one way or another since he was suspended from the baseball team. Must be kidding myself, he thought, play in this weather?
Drew sucked his teeth and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair for all he knew there was not going to be a hurricane today. The weather forecaster was always wrong. He widened his clear blue eyes at Sue Ellen. She would never give him time of day. He stayed into too much trouble at school. Falling asleep, never turning in homework, and feuding with the jocks were some of the things that Drew’s teachers insisted he worked on. Maybe if I get back on the baseball team, she just might date me, Drew plotted and planned.
Mrs. Westwood slowly waddled like a duck back to the front of the classroom and glanced at her wristwatch. Drew apparently read her mind.
“Shouldn’t McKenzie be back by now?” Drew asked.
“She is probably trying to figure out what activity to join or who to get over on,” Sue Ellen rolled her eyes, “but I run the school newspaper and yearbook. Those jobs are taken.” Mater softly giggled at Sue Ellen’s comment about McKenzie. No one liked her at school but flocked to her like flies because her family had old money.
More screams were heard. The shouts sounded like high-pitched pained cries. Tussling and shuffling were audible in conjunction with tortuous wails. Chaos echoed in the hallway. The weather was a bigger distraction from what was going on in the hallways. A big brown box hit the window from the outside, jostling the students and Mrs. Westwood. The two windows from inside the classroom showed the wind picking up outside with the onset of light rain. Debris of all sorts danced on the schoolyard like butterflies.
“Mater…” Sue Ellen whispered. She sat two desks
away from her best friend. Sue Ellen desperately waved her hands to get Mattalie’s attention. “Mater!”
Mater turned around visibly shaken. The look on her face resembled fear. Her big brown eyes were as big as fifty scent pieces. Mater mouthed the words what is going on? As she leaned her head towards the door where Mrs. Westwood stood. Sue Ellen shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. This had never happened before. The students continued to whisper amongst themselves as the screams and wails periodically occurred prompting them to be silent.
“For the day of his great wrath is come; and who shall be able to withstand it? Revelations 6:17,” a red haired, green-eyed girl mumbled. The school required all of the students to wear khaki, navy blue pants, and white shirts. She stood alone defying the odds donning a long ankle length khaki skirt.
“Shut up, firecracker!” A boy shouted his white teeth coincided with his tanned skin and dirty blonde hair. Royal Carter, the quarterback of the Stoney Central football team, opened his mouth to shout another insult at the wavy, red haired girl. But another scream accompanied by the breaking of glass silenced him.
Drew watched anxiously as Mrs. Westwood went back to her desk and pressed the intercom button that connected the classroom to the front office. No one answered. Mrs. Westwood then nervously rummaged through her purse. This is not looking good, Drew speculated.
“There is a storm brewing outside but it isn’t a hurricane is it, Mrs. Westwood?” The red haired girl, who spoke the scripture earlier, said breaking the silence in the classroom.
“Tarynn, I am going to find out what’s going on.” Mrs. Westwood looked up at the eerily quiet students and reassured them. She held up her cell phone. “We are all going to stay seated and not move until I call the front office to see what is happening. Understood?” The students shook their heads in agreement, while others stared blankly. Tarynn closed her eyes and continued to silently pray. Her father was the local preacher at the church in Wiggins and she enjoyed working with the missionary group. Drew looked at Tarynn and slowly shook his head. Little Miss save the world Tarynn, Drew secretly thought.
Death's Little Angels Page 1
