Beyond the Horizon(An apocalypse novel)

Chapter 16: Rules

Mr. Morgan stayed dead silent at the sound of his voice. The principal spoke again.

"Morgan. Why so silent? Hope I didn’t spook you or anything."

There was almost a sense of ridicule in that stale voice. It was enough for Mr. Morgan to pull himself together again.

"Are you—where is Freeman? Why are you answering his phone? I—"

"One at a time, one at a time, Morgan. He’s gone, along with those who followed him. The soldiers are gone too. As for his phone? Let’s just say he wanted me to have this."

Mr. Morgan stayed silent for a moment, his mind visibly racing before he replied, carefully.

"Where are they now? Did the soldiers mention where they were going?"

"That’s none of your concern, Morgan. They’re in a better place. I would be worried about myself if I were you."

Mr. Morgan’s brow furrowed at his words. Pushing down his frustration, he asked again.

"Then why are you still here?"

There was a long pause on the other side. Then came a dry, mirthless chuckle.

"To keep order, of course. A captain sinks with his ship, no? I reckoned it’d be a fucking mess without me around. You’re welcome."

Before Mr. Morgan could even process what he meant, let alone reply, the man continued. His voice was booming now.

Hate. A sort of pure, unadulterated hate raged through it.

"THE SAME GOES FOR YOU!"

His voice was booming out of the speakers now. It came through Miles’s phone, through the TV’s speakers, through earpods. It came from everywhere.

"ALL OF YOU! I CAN SEE YOU HIDING, SCURRYING LIKE RATS IN THOSE LITTLE ROOMS IN HOPES OF SAVING YOUR PITIFUL LIVES. IT’S A MESS. UNCIVILIZED, UTTERLY UNCIVILIZED!"

Then, as abruptly as the booming started, it stopped. The voice still emanated from every speaker available. It was stale once again.

"But that’s fine. Because I’m here. I can fix this. All of this. I can ease you into order, civilize you."

He paused, then started again. This time his voice only came through the speakers mounted on the wall.

"Let’s start with laying some ground rules. This is a school setting, after all. Although we’ve been known for our lax uniform policies, there’s still a thing known as decency. Some of you clearly do not understand that."

"I will start enforcing this strictly; anyone in violation of our decency policy will be punished. I’ll give you the grace of five minutes to get your affairs in order. Let it not be said that I am a tyrant."

With that, the speakers cut off.

Mr. Morgan’s call still kept going, yet the ’principal’ didn’t speak anymore. It wasn’t long before he ended it.

Miles hadn’t moved at all, still processing the insanity he’d just witnessed.

There was no time to waste endlessly questioning things. That was clearly not the principal; it was something else. Something that had already dealt with about fifty of them.

Possibly more.

It spoke of rules. Decency.

Miles scanned his memories for anything related to it. He found it rather quickly.

It hadn’t been long since he’d come across it, just earlier this year. It was back when he’d newly transferred and had been paranoid about anything that could trip him up.

So he’d gone through the school rule book.

Decency, from it, generally meant no miniskirts, exposed shoulders, crop tops, or deep necklines for girls.

For boys, it was mainly against sagging, muscle shirts, or tank tops.

Miles gave himself a once-over.

He was fully covered. Hoodie, pants, and shoes. There was nothing he’d consider indecent there. He scanned the room.

It was mostly the same for the rest of the class. All besides two people.

One of the remaining boys wore trousers with a slight sag; he sat against the wall, frustratedly tapping something on his phone.

The other was one of Sarah’s friends. She joined them in anxiously whispering something, the details of which still sounded muffled to Miles.

He didn’t know what being punished meant, but with what had already happened so far, he knew it couldn’t be anything remotely pretty.

Just as Mr. Morgan opened his mouth to say something, the man was interrupted again. This time by Chloe.

She’d left her place by the dodgeballs, now resting her hands on one of the speakers close to the ground.

"I used my ability on the speakers. It... it says they’ve been infected by an anomaly."

Miles remembered her ability being [Inspection]. He doubted she had any reason to lie about their current situation as well.

’Anomaly?’

A chill ran down his spine at the thought.

’That thing acting like the principal, is it an anomaly?’

Not just that, he remembered the notification claiming multiple anomalies were converging on their location.

’There are more things like that around?’

He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed likely. Miles could only hope it wasn’t. It would only serve to worsen their odds of making it out alive.

It had only taken him a minute to parse through all those thoughts. Meanwhile, Mr. Morgan nodded to Chloe before speaking.

"We’ll get to that later. Right now, we can’t afford to take anything for granted. Alice, cover your shoulders. Do it now."

He pointed to Sarah’s friend. The girl didn’t waste time in obeying, quickly pulling up her shirt. Then he turned to face the boy.

"And you—"

The speakers flared to life again, chasing Chloe from the one she touched. The principal’s voice came through again.

"Time’s up."

That was all he said.

The room fell silent in response. It didn’t hold for long.

A wet cough broke through it.

It was from the boy.

He stood doubled over, hands tightly clutching his chest. The coughing continued; the boy barely managed to take wheezing breaths between them.

Mr. Morgan moved towards him, only pausing when he noticed the blood on the floor. He was coughing up blood.

The boy’s legs couldn’t support his weight much longer, and he collapsed into a kneeling position, finally giving the rest of them a better view of his face.

Blood streamed from his eyes, his nose, and ears. His teeth stained dark as he coughed and wheezed, hands clutching his chest, his face twisted in agony.

Miles could feel his chest squirm at the mere sound of it.

His knees soon failed as well, making him collapse onto his back. Gravity forced the blood back down his throat, leaving him to only gargle as he choked on his own blood.

Soon, the desperate clutching on his chest eased, the gargling and wheezing slowly growing weaker and weaker, until they stopped altogether.