Beyond the Horizon(An apocalypse novel)

Chapter 17: Scouting

The man took careful, staggered steps towards the boy, kneeling and placing a hand on his chest.

"He’s dead."

Immediately after he said that, a gunshot rang out.

The boy’s head burst, flinging to the side as blood and bone sprayed from his skull. Miles traced the shot back to the kid against the wall.

Grimm.

At some point, Mr. Morgan had stopped blocking him.

’Then again, he would’ve already shot us, if he was going to.’

His gun was raised again. More stable this time. He took a deep breath before slowly lowering it. His hands trembled a bit as he did so, yet he fought to keep his face firm.

Mr. Morgan placed a hand on his cheek, still in shock. Then he turned to face the boy, gazing at the blood on his hand.

Perhaps it was something in his eyes or his face, but Grimm hurriedly offered an explanation.

"He would’ve reawakened again. Destroying the head stops it. I saw it online before the connection degraded."

His voice shook a little as he spoke, betraying his efforts at projecting confidence.

Mr. Morgan remained silent for a moment before sighing, using his shirt to rub the blood off his face. Then he gently closed the boy’s eyes.

Standing up, there was a different light in his eyes. Heavier, darker, more resolute. He spoke.

"That’s fine, Grimm. Just make sure to give me a heads-up next time. The same goes for you, Brandon."

He was referring back to when Brandon smashed in that girl’s head. The bully looked a little surprised at the sudden referral to him.

Still, he managed to give a reluctant nod in reply.

The man turned to face the rest of them.

"I doubt there’ll be anyone coming to rescue us."

In a scant few minutes, they’d been whittled down by one already. It wasn’t exactly rocket science to realize they couldn’t just huddle in here.

’Especially with that psycho principal on the loose.’

Miles thought grimly.

Mr. Morgan continued.

"We likely won’t be seeing Mr. Freeman anytime soon, either. Whatever just happened is clearly illogical. With the crises the rest of the country is going through right now, we’re on our own for now."

He paused, glancing at a speaker on the wall.

"But one thing is clear: we can’t hide here. We need to get out of the school before we can even hope of finding help."

Of course, there was the unanswered question of where they’d even run to if they did go out. The storm?

Yet those seemed like better odds than being trapped with a disembodied voice capable of remotely carrying out executions.

"Do we... do we head straight to the door?"

It was Sarah speaking. Her eyes kept lingering on the corpse behind him as she spoke. Behind her, three of her friends consoled the other, who’d just escaped the same fate.

Mr. Morgan clenched his teeth before shaking his head.

"I doubt it’d be that easy. It would’ve been the same path Freeman followed; it could just be a trap."

"Then the windows?"

It was Chloe this time. She cradled one arm in the other as she looked between the speaker she’d been touching and Mr. Morgan.

The man didn’t refute her immediately, and Miles could understand why.

He’d seen multiple windows blown out by the storm on his way to the gym. The broken glass was dangerous, but probably less so than the principal.

"We’ll check that, bu—"

A stomach rumbling interrupted him. Tracing it, Miles found the class captain, Ryan, holding his stomach with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

Before he could apologize, Miles took advantage of the pause to finally speak. The gazes were on him again, yet he pushed through them.

"What about the cafeteria? There are other kids there, and a pylon. I don’t know what that means, but it seems important."

He shot a quick glance at Ryan before adding, "There’ll be food there too."

Mr. Morgan gave a small nod, his expression dim as he mentally weighed his options. He glanced at the body behind him before sighing.

He walked towards the room with the baseball bats.

"I’ll check for viable windows. Maybe check by the cafeteria if I can, too."

The moment he said that, Brandon raised his hand.

"I’m coming too."

The vice-principal shook his head firmly.

"I can’t let you risk—"

"We’ll have to move sooner or later."

He stared the man dead in the eye as he cut him off. He wasn’t backing down. Before Mr. Morgan could shoot him down again, another voice spoke up.

"I have a gun."

It was Grimm. The same Grimm who’d been uncooperative so far. Mr. Morgan’s eyes widened, while Brandon, now beside him, merely squinted.

There was a determined look on the would-be shooter’s face.

Miles didn’t let the implication pass him. The only two who’d killed something and gained skills for it were the first to offer themselves to go scouting.

He heavily doubted they were such selfless people. There had to be something they’d figured out.

Considering that, in conjunction with what Jayce had told him earlier, he wasted no time in raising his hand as well.

"We’re not any safer here than out there."

It was a lie; although the door was mangled, the room and the heater inside it provided some protection against the cold. Those things from earlier—snow demons, as the internet had taken to calling them—couldn’t sneak up on them here either.

But it was true in the fact that they weren’t safe from the principal here. And in an atmosphere still high from watching a boy get executed before their eyes, it passed as truth.

Mr. Morgan rubbed his forehead, yet before he could reply to him, another hand went up.

Chloe.

"What do we do if we lose you out there, sir? You’re the only one in control here; we can’t let you go by yourself."

The boy beside Brandon, Kyle, glanced between Brandon and the vice-principal before hesitantly raising his hand as well.

"I-I’ll go too."

At the sight of all that, Mr. Morgan could only give a wry smile.