Tropical Weird

by Allison J. Wade

  Tropical Weird

  by

  Allison J. Wade

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  wadebooks.com

  Cover illustration by Gloria Gambino

  © 2015 Allison J. Wade

  Smashwords Edition

  Table of Contents

  Section A: Wide Awake Nightmare

  1. Gym Class

  2. Sophie’s Headache

  3. Chez Yu & Aiko

  4. Professor Ross’ Anxiety

  5. Sounds Like Rain

  Section B: Chain Reaction

  6. Biology Class

  7. Work in Progress

  8. Missing Nagasaki

  9. First Aid

  10. Diving in Red

  Section C: Under My Skin

  11. Secrets Behind a Wall

  12. Cafeteria Meeting

  13. One With the World

  14. Shoot Me More

  15. Don’t Open That Door

  Section D: Out of My Mind

  16. Hide & Seek

  17. Sweet Revenge

  18. Alone in the Desert

  19. Silence of the Heart

  20. Voices From Elsewhere

  Section E: Is There a Freedom?

  21. Obstacle Course

  22. I Will Love You Until My Last Breath

  23. Accumulation of Grief

  24. Out There

  25. Future & Hope

  Section A

  Wide Awake Nightmare

  1. Gym Class

  The flight of the bullet is silent and fast. It whistles, burning the air, and doesn’t stop until it finds an obstacle. A soft and weak surface that opens like a flower upon its touch and welcomes it in the warmth of a flesh and blood embrace.

  The breast of Rika from class 2A explodes with the smack of a crimson kiss. She doesn’t feel a thing. Just a blow and a slight push backward, then her body collapses to the ground. She gasps, and red liquid pours from her lips, while she stares at the gray sky with wide open eyes. The blood clogs her respiratory system burning like acid; the tears pierce her eyes while her sight becomes clouded, and her body jerks with involuntary spasms.

  She doesn’t understand what’s happening, there on the volleyball field, during Gym class. She just dies. Like that, in an instant.

  Screams explode.

  The men in black enter the courtyard with their faces covered by balaclavas, wearing tactical vests with pockets full of ammunition; they’re holding MP5 submachine guns in their gloved hands. And they shoot, without mercy and without hesitation, their index fingers steady on the trigger and the silenced whistle of the bullets spewed through the suppressors. They don’t want to be heard, but the kids’ cries would be enough to waken the dead.

  Too bad the dead can’t cry.

  The students, who just a moment earlier were busy throwing balls and cheering, scatter like chickens in a coop.

  Three of them are hit in the back, while they try to run toward the gym or the school building.

  Two of them stay there, motionless, unable to understand what’s going on. The gunfire strikes them in the chest in an explosion of blood and fabric. They dance in midair before ending to the ground.

  When Rika falls, her best friend leans over her, trying to help, thus avoiding the first burst of the firing squad, which reaps other four of their classmates. A body lands in front of her at dead weight with a hole in the skull exposing the brain matter. A sudden retching forces her to turn around and throw up on her fours, right on the sideline. Only then, a bullet hits her in the neck and only then she dies, crying and vomiting, slamming her face in her vomit and tears.

  One of the Chinese boys, Chen, tries to run to the tool shed, in front of the gate. He gets hit in the shoulder. He turns right round, with some kind of pirouette, his legs overlap, and he stumbles. He falls to the ground, slamming his head, but not hard enough to stun him. One of the men approaches, staring at him with his empty eyes, shielded by dark glasses, the submachine gun pointed at him. Chen looks up pleading, his face contracted by the grimace of a crying baby; he tries to say something but doesn’t succeed, because a combat boot size 13 smashes his skull in an instant.

  A few seconds of total silence follow.

  “Alpha One. Class 2A eliminated,” says a hard and expressionless voice on the radio.

  Another voice replies, “We counted them, they are thirteen.”

  “We are missing two. Keep looking. Team Beta, green light.”

  The men in black spread, walking among the bloodied bodies lying on the playing field. The six man of the Alpha team split to explore the courtyard, the other six of the Beta team proceed, placing themselves around the perimeter. Two of them head for the back door, which gives access to the main building of the Toho Special School.

  2. Sophie’s Headache

  Math class feels endless and her headache is becoming more persistent.

  Sophie yawns while absently scribbling the school logo: the word TOHO, within a rectangle, with no other frills. The originality made graphics, in fact.

  The professor is writing a function on the blackboard, drawing characters with unusual haste and creaking the chalk annoyingly. Like needles stuck in her skull. Sophie looks at her watch. 9:15. Three-quarters of an hour of boredom and torture yet to go.

  She looks at the rest of her class; her schoolmates don’t seem much more interested than her: some are whispering or exchanging messages, others hide behind their open book for a nap, and others are stretching. They really don’t have the appearance of those “special students” mentioned in the brochure. Even the lessons seem very normal and boring. So why were they selected with that strange test and sent to live on an island on the other side of the world?

  Sophie is convinced she could have the same kind of education in a regular school in Alaska, without having to be separated from her family and live in that tropical hell, always too hot and full of mosquitoes. At least they have air conditioning.

  And besides, who cares to attend a special school?

  She massages her temples for the umpteenth time. Lately her migraines have become more frequent and this morning her head throbs almost unbearably. She also feels nauseated.

  “Well, let’s solve this equation. Sophie, will you come?” says the professor.

  Of course, as if it wasn’t enough.

  She gets up forcing a smile, which looks more like a grimace, and goes to the blackboard in the general indifference.

  She stares at the white symbols on the dark background, trying to focus and remember the procedure. She starts writing.

  The screech of the chalk penetrates into her brain like a rusty nail, she feels the blood throbbing in her temples, in waves; her sight get blurred for a few seconds, and then it’s like a twinkle of exploding dots which blind her, making the world confused. She must close her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. The chalk slips from her fingers while she searches for a handhold. She slams with her forearm against the hard and cold blackboard. It’s the last thing she feels for the next few seconds.

  Somewhere, far away and muffled, the voice of the professor calls her, “Sophie? Sophie?” but where she is now, everything is dark and confused.

  Then it’s like a shock, and images begin to form in her head, strong and noisy, chaotic.

  Classmates, boys and girls of various ethnicity, running legs, people screaming, stumbling, skinned knees, get up, shots, sounds like popping, pain, red spots, blood flesh blood bone pain, fall, cold, fear, men in black...

  She opens her eyes, pa
nting, almost hugging the wall as she tries to regain the natural rhythm of breathing, her heart pounding in her head, a feeling of nausea, and pain in the lower abdomen.

  A girl throws a strangled cry from the front row; one of her classmates, she can’t say who, laughs, “Sophie’s got her period!”

  Only then she becomes aware of the drip of blood slipping down her thigh, from under the blue pleated skirt of the school uniform, staining her stockings and white shoes. She feels like drowning in embarrassment.

  “Sophie, are you all right?” the professor asks again, his voice cracked by nervousness, and yes, perhaps a touch of fear.

  “I...” she doesn’t know what to say except that she feels awful.

  “Maybe you better go to the infirmary,” continues the professor.

  “I’ll take her,” says a familiar voice. Sophie looks up and recognizes the black hair combed in two braids, the olive skin, and the gentle smile of Aruna, one of the many Indian girls in the school.

  Sophie forces a smile of gratitude.

  Aruna grabs her arm and takes her out; they hear the professor saying nervously, “Complete the exercise, I... I have to go,” and then he surpasses them in the hallway, fast like the wind, as if he had a sudden urgency to leave the school.

  3. Chez Yu & Aiko

  Ten o’clock. The 2A Gym class has just started. While their classmates are warming up for the volleyball game, Yu takes Aiko’s hand. “Come with me.”

  The slant-eyed girl smiles mischievously, she has already understood everything. He drags her gently in the shed where are kept the tools for outdoor activities.

  In the quiet dim-light, between mats and balls, weights and javelins, Yu hugs his girlfriend, resting his warm lips on her neck, passing his fingers through her dark and smooth hair.

  Aiko chuckles. “You’re tickling me!”

  “Shhh! They’ll hear us,” he says, and then covers her mouth with his own. “Go check that no one is coming.”

  She goes to the window, watching their classmates playing, while Yu prepares their nest, building a small hut made of blue and green mats. “Come,” he whispers.

  Aiko slips on the plastic coating the inside foam, and plunges into darkness to find the warm embrace of her love.

  They kiss passionately, exploring their bodies, animated by the excitement of the forbidden.

  “I love you,” whispers Aiko, almost breathless.

  “I love you,” replies Yu, intoxicated by her scent. Again, he searches for her neck like a thirsty vampire. Then come the cries.

  “What was that?” she whispers.

  A noise like pops and people shouting.

  Yu slips out and approaches the window. Aiko can’t see him, but he got pale.

  She’s about to get near, when he turns around, his face changed into a mask of terror. In panic, he grabs her and takes her back in the nest.

  “What are you doing?” she protests in a voice a bit too acute. Yu puts a hand over her mouth and hisses, “They are killing everyone.”

  Aiko’s eyes open wide, the astonishment and disbelief have tamed her, and now he can push her more easily.

  Cuddling in the dark, between the soft mats, they close every exit and plug every chink; they hug, trembling, counting each breath.

  Outside, the gunshots and the screams seem ceased.

  “What’s happening?” she whispers, in the faintest sound. Yu’s lips touch her ear. “I don’t know... I don’t... we must keep quiet.”

  A thud makes them jump. It’s the sound of the door burst open. A voice, muffled by the balaclava, speaks in English. “Alpha Four. Checking the tool shed.”

  The footsteps are barely audible, because everything is overwhelmed by the beating of their hearts echoing in their ears like the most intolerable noise.

  Yu clings to his Aiko, they try to stay put as much as possible, holding their breath, fearing that even the slightest exhalation might betray them.

  The noise of something falling, or maybe thrown to the ground on purpose.

  Steps coming closer, the creaking of plastic.

  Steps going away.

  “Alpha Four, the area is clear, I rejoin with the team.”

  Nothing more.

  Aiko is still too stunned to realize what just happened. She hasn’t seen anything, only imagined.

  But in Yu’s mind are imprinted the few images he saw glancing at the courtyard. Men in black, weapons, gunshots. Bodies to the ground. Blood.

  Without realizing it, he starts crying.

  4. Professor Ross’ Anxiety

  3A has History Class. Professor Ross seems to be stuttering more than usual.

  “W-well I have brought you back the t-test results.” He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. He’s a middle-aged tiny man, short and bald. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He’s sweating profusely. “Tien, will you distribute them?”

  The Vietnamese girl in the front row, with a black bob cut, gets up and takes the bundle of papers, walking through the desks.

  A slight buzz spreads among the students, boys and girls about eighteen, of different ethnic groups; the majority of them are from the Far East, some from India. Albeit with difficulty, it has been imposed on them to speak English and this is how they can communicate with each other.

  Professor Ross dabs his forehead, repeatedly watching the clock. The lesson is about to end and he seems very impatient.

  “No way!” exclaims Bansi from the bottom of the classroom. “Forty over one hundred?”

  The teacher flinches, his eyes wide. He puts a finger in his collar to make room for air. The whole class turns toward the Indian boy.

  He stands up, making his chair screech; his wide eyes resemble those of a lunatic. He starts breathing heavily, almost panting.

  “What’s wrong with him?” someone whispers.

  From his throat comes a raspy sound, like a snarl. He clenches his fists, then opens them, his chest going up and down with the rhythm of his breath; the veins on his bronze neck swell as if they were about to explode.

  Bansi emits a hysterical scream, more like a roar; foamy drool comes out of his mouth.

  He grabs the school desk and throws it against the bottom wall, nearly hitting the classmate who stands beside him.

  “Bansi! What are you doing?” shouts someone else.

  Professor Ross stiffens, shaking like a rabbit chased by a wolf.

  Bansi jumps forward, trying to make his way through the desks. His classmates get up too. Two of them manage to grab him by the arms, trying to hold him back.

  “Calm down!”

  But he’s completely out of control, he squirms, snarls, drools, shows his teeth like an angry animal.

  The professor doesn’t hesitate, he runs out of the door, disappearing forever.

  One student stands in front of Bansi. “Hey! Calm Down!”

  But he doesn’t hear him, all he sees is an enemy. Calling on an incredible strength, he gets away from the arms keeping him and jumps on the boy. He slams him to the ground.

  Then sinks his teeth into his neck.

  In the classroom, the screams explode, especially from the girls. Then the noise of a desk moving under the weight of someone who has passed out.

  Bansi continues to bite. Splashes of blood smear his face, spread on the floor. The victim gurgles, squirms under the boy’s weight.

  Someone is still trying to take him away from there, but it’s too late. His body is a bundle of nerves and muscles, all aimed at tearing the prey. His crazy face is smeared with red liquid, even his hair is soaked. His head moves, shaking the neck of the now helpless student.

  Others turn away frightened, shocked. From a corner, the noise of someone throwing up.

  A few girls start to escape from the classroom, followed soon by all the other students.

  Only one remains in a corner, paralyzed with fear. A slender Chinese boy, crushed against a cabinet, unable to get across the class to reach the door.

&n
bsp; Bansi gets up, looks around as if to sniff the air, a growl stagnating in the bottom of his throat, the blood disfiguring his face like a tribal painting. He sees him with his crazy wide eyes, and dilates his nostrils.

  The Chinese student understands he has only one chance, and starts running.

  Bansi is on him with two jumps. He pushes him against the wall, grabs him by the neck and slams him on the hard surface. Again and again.

  Until the boy collapses, unconscious.

  5. Sounds Like Rain

  The bell of ten o’clock covers the shouts of the students of class 3A, swarming in the hallway. Someone thinks of pushing the bar of the nearest emergency exit. It’s locked.

  More screams, boys running towards the main entrance.

  The teachers come from the other classrooms, while the students peep out, curious, whispering to each other, wondering what happened.

  “Calm down, everyone!” yells Professor Sudo, from class 1A. He’s a skinny Japanese man, gray-haired, known for being always stoic and phlegmatic.

  “Come here!” he gives the order with the composure of a Zen master.

  Somebody obeys and stops; the girls hug each other, crying.

  A few students are too shocked to listen; they are flocking to the main entrances. Even those doors are closed; someone yells, “Let us out!”

  The teachers are getting nervous, some look at their watch, a middle-aged woman whispers to a colleague, “It’s too soon.”

  Sudo raises his voice again. “All of you! Go back to your class and close the door!”

  Holding off the students from the other classes is easy, they don’t know what happened, they just do what they’re asked, but class 3A is in panic.

  One of the teachers manages to retrieve a group of girls and a few boys; He tries to sound reassuring, and force them to enter class 1A, exhorting everyone to remain calm. “Do not leave for any reason.”