Chapter 2: 21st July 2016 -23:11-
Charles Freeman broke into a halfhearted sigh as, all around him, the students began to scream. A number had even jumped out of their seats and tried to run for the door, only to find it locked from the other side.
Waiting for several seconds for the screams to subside, Charles flicked his eyes around the room. His dark pupils swallowed the glare of the floodlights as they moved across the faces of the students; contorted in horror.
"Okay, that's enough," he muttered under his breath.
Reaching out to the side he grasped the large automatic pistol, strapped to the belt of the soldier to his left, and drew it. Before the soldier could react, he cocked the weapon and pointed it up into the air.
A small flame flickered from the barrel as the sound of an explosion cracked through the large room. Reverberating off of the flat walls, the gunshot rattled the ears of the students and shocked them into silence.
"Shut up and sit down!" Charles shouted. Despite his raised voice, however, his expression remained level and controlled.
As the collective of teenagers turned towards him, identical shaken expressions on their faces, the soldier who's weapon he had stolen snatched the gun back. Charles ignored the gruff man and pointed down at the desks in front of him.
"I believe I told you all to sit," he said, an air of finality to his voice.
While some of the students slowly began to follow his orders, some remained standing. They stared back at the body of Jacob Silver (Boy #4); his throat crushed, his jaw smashed, his eyes rolled back in his head. Blood stained his white shirt, so that it matched the stripes of the tie that he wore. Dangling between the crushed bone of his bottom jaw, a fat pink tongue glistened and dripped fat drops of blood down onto the floor. The very sight of his disfigured corpse repulsed them to the point that they dared not venture back towards the desks, much less sit next to it.
"Hm..." one of the soldiers next to Charles hummed, raising one eyebrow. "Something tells me they don't quite understand the severity of disobeying you. Do you think I should bring them in now?"
Barely responding to the question, Charles shrugged. "Do whatever you want."
Smirking, the soldier grabbed hold of a radio pinned to his bulletproof vest and spoke into it. "Unlock the door and bring them in."
The sound of grinding metal filled the large room, as the doors were unbolted. The students still stood by them leapt back in surprise as a swarm of soldiers stormed into the room. Dragged alongside them were several people that the students knew all too well.
Their teachers.
Lined up at the front of the room, and held at gunpoint, they looked like they had been put through hell. Miss Fisher had a split lip and a black eye; her pretty and elegant face beaten and bruised black. The English teacher Mr Byrns was missing an ear, as well as several teeth. Then there was Mrs Vlok, who's pretty young face had been smashed beyond recognition. Beside her, their art teacher Mr Buggs' hair was coagulated with blood from a deep wound on the top of his head.
Seeing her Father, stood at the front of the room and beaten half to death, Laura Buggs (Girl #16) let out a strangled sound from inside her throat. "D... Dad...?"
Charles began to pace around the front of the room, his voice eclipsing the sound of Laura's stunned gasp. "Everyone still standing... Every time I ask you to sit down, and you do not comply, one of your teachers is going to get hit."
The students still stood in the middle of the room shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Lily Force (Girl #19), a girl with dark skin and glossy black hair, narrowed her eyes hesitantly, at Charles' threat. Taking a deep breath, she moved uncertainly.
When she did not return to her desk, one of the soldiers lifted the butt of his AR-15 and smashed it into the face of Mr Buggs. Crying out in pain, he bent forwards at the waist and clasped his crushed nose.
Laura shrieked and lurched out of her chair, in an attempt to run to her father.
Charles' expression didn't falter. "Sit down."
This time one of the soldiers struck Miss Fisher, with the back of his gloved hand. The pretty young woman spat blood onto the laminate floor.
Stopping in her tracks, Laura's tear-filled eyes placed her father's own. While he didn't speak, the look they held pleaded with her to return to her seat. It was as if he knew that if she did not, then something far worse would happen to her.
Gavin Watts (Boy #18) moved his large frame quickly. As he moved away from the door, he gently clasped Lily by the arm and hurriedly nodded back towards the tables. Glancing over his shoulder as he walked, he locked eyes with Sho Homura (Boy #13) and shook his head, prompting the smaller boy to follow suit.
One by one, the students returned to their allocated seats.
Taking a second to look over them all, Charles twisted the corner of his mouth into a slight smile. "Well, at least you're learning."
Jerking his head slightly, he indicated for the soldiers to leave the room. Before long, the stomping of jackboots and clacking metal filled the air as the collection of privates ushered the teachers from the room and locked the door behind them.
"I hope that this means you'll all be taking this a bit more seriously now," Charles said, sweeping one hand back through his hair and moving back behind the lectern. "I'll allow that outburst this once, considering the surprise of Mr Silver over there blowing himself to kingdom come. But remember this: Impulsive actions from this point on will get you shot."
Now all sat at their desks once more, the students shot him a mixture of expressions. Some were hardened in outrage, others contorted in fear. However, the ones that Charles took note of were those that, bizarrely enough, looked calm.
Keeping one eye on the jaded students, Charles continued. "So... Getting back onto topic — and believe me when I say that I'm operating on a time limit here — I think I was just getting onto the subject of the collars, before Mr Silver decided to give us a demonstration. As you have just seen, any attempt to remove them will result in explosively lethal consequences. But don't think that you can get around that by short-circuiting them or something like that. You'll find that they're completely waterproof, as well as anti-shock."
Placing his hands on the lectern before him, Charles leant forwards.
"Now, aside from obvious control means, these collars actually perform a very important function," he continued. "They all contain a GPS tracker, so that we can follow your movements inside of the arena, and monitor your life signs. And I suppose you're thinking: 'Why would they want to do that?' Well, first off this allows us to tell who has died; this we will be broadcasting to you via PA system, every six hours. It also lets us know when the game is over. And finally, and this is the most important reason, it lets you know how long you have left to live."
A number of the students recoiled in their seats at this statement.
"If one of you doesn't die every twenty four hours, then all of your collars will explode and everyone dies. However..." He let the word hang in the air as he analysed the expressions of the teenagers' faces. "If, after all of the killing is done, one of you is still alive... That person gets to go home. Not only that, you also receive a lifetime pension as well as an autographed certificate from the President himself. And, if certain members of the government take a fancy to you, you could even manage to have some strings pulled so that you land your dream job." He smiled. "It's not that uncommon. Past winners have gone on to become actresses, models... Bigwigs in banks. The possibilities are endless, if you just put your mind to it."
Sat on the furthest edge of the desks, Sarah Matthews (Girl #17) balled her hands into fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Falling across her face, a bright pink lock of hair pointed down sharply towards her dark hazel eyes, contorted in anger.
Turning around, Charles picked up a black marker from the lectern and drew a large square on the whiteboard.
"On to the logistics of the game," he continued. "You are in an arena with a perimeter of roughly ten kilometres. It was once a countryside housing estate, but the residents have long since been evacuated, so you don't have to worry about collateral damage." He reached up and proceeded to draw a lighting bolt symbol next to each of the four sides of the squares. "Escape is ill-advised. The perimeter has been surrounded by twenty foot high electric fences, and steel plates have been inserted underground." Charles glanced over his shoulder and flashed a brief smile. "But I guess the collars should be motivation enough to not stray out of bounds."
Hearing the statement, a number of the children tensed up. A current of fear coursed through their bodies, searing their nerve endings red raw.
Rim Homura (Girl #13) looked to the side and met the identical gaze of her twin brother. Concern lay behind her eyes, matching the worry for her that Sho wore on his face.
On the opposite side of the room, Boy #5, Sky Rochmil looked as if he was about to burst into tears. A large clot of blood, from where Jacob's collar had exploded just in front of him, still clung to Sky's face. He was so shellshocked that he barely registered the deep red clump; not bothering to wipe it away.
Sat beside him, Luna Prakasa (Girl #5) reached across the aisle and gasped his dangling fingers; squeezing them in a reassuring manner. All the while, her eyes didn't stray from the front, so as to not alert Charles or the soldiers to what she was doing.
Two rows over, at the very front of the room, Luna's older sister Soliel (Girl #6) quickly glanced back to check and see if she was alright. Her expression was hard and her eyebrows low. Being eleven months older, she had taken the opportunity of being in the same grade as her younger sister to do everything in her power to watch over Luna and protect her.
While a number of the students were sharing looks and encouragement with each other, Charles had drawn a basic grid pattern across the square on the whiteboard. He had labeled the top with letters from A to J, and the side with numbers 1 to 10.
"Like I said, you will be let out in the middle of an estate. I will be overseeing your progress from here in the town hall." He drew an X inside the square labeled as C-4. "You are all free to use the houses and structures as you see fit, so if you decide to hole up somewhere, there are plenty of free houses... Though I would advise against staying anywhere too long, for the following reasons." Charles turned around and indicated the illustration behind him. "As you're sent out, you'll each be provided with a bag that includes various apparel. Included in this bag will be food, water, one randomly selected weapon, and a map that looks something like this." He broke into a mockingly concerned smile. "Please do not lose the map. If you do, you won't be able to check your position and identify Dead Zones." Charles snatched up a red marker from the surface in front of him, and scribbled out one of the grid squares. "Every six hours, when I tell you who has died, I will also be broadcasting at which times certain zones will be designated Dead. 'G-5 will be Dead at 11:00!' Or something like that. If you are not out of the zone by the time it becomes active..."
The students all knew what he was going to say.
"Then your collars will explode." Charles lifted his arms to his sides, to indicate the building surrounding them. "The zone containing this building will also become active ten minutes after the last of you leave. To discourage the more overzealous of you from turning your weapons on me and my friends here."
Clapping his hands, the instructor prompted the doors to open once again. This time, a soldier entered pushing a gurney. Piled on top were dozens of duffle bags. Some of them were distorted in shape, sections sticking out at odd angles because of the objects contained inside.
"On the subject of weapons," Charles said, walking up beside the trolley covered with bags, "they range from knives to fully automatic guns... Along with a few surprises thrown in. As you leave, you will each take the bag off of the top."
Reaching inside his jacket, Charles withdrew a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Sparking up one, the homeroom teacher took a drag and blew smoke out slowly.
Waving the cigarette between his fingers around, he addressed the students. "You'll be leaving here at two minute intervals, proceeding in order of your seating arrangement. Boy, girl, boy, girl, and so on." Pulling a small envelope out of his pocket, Charles puffed on his cigarette once again. "The first one of you to leave has been randomly selected, so we'll be finding out who they are shortly."
Continuing to smoke, Charles eyed the room one final time.
A number of the students looked like they were about to throw up; nausea clear and apparent on their faces.
Others looked outraged. Laura, sat almost in front of him, was staring at Charles with a mixture of hatred and despair. The use of her father as a tool to silence the students had clearly flipped some kind of switch on her.
Still more were uncontrollably sobbing; boys and girls both. Girl #11, Emily Moore was crying so hard that her face had turned bright red, and her eyes were almost permanently shut. Streaks from her mascara streamed down her cheeks.
Several of the teenagers looked determined. Whether this was an indication for their willingness to murder, or of their opposition to the government, Charles wasn't sure. Still, he made special note of those students. Ryan Archer (Boy #6) was one such student. His brows were lowered over his impossibly dark eyes as he glared up at the instructor.
Alex Kemp (Boy #1) was impossible to read. It was as if something empty dwelled behind his eyes. An absence that swallowed anything that encroached. Like a black hole.
Charles committed that one to memory.
Number one... he caught himself thinking.
Boy #17, Jack Kim, put his hand up. A number of the eyes in the room snapped towards him. Seeing him, Charles raised one eyebrow.
"I have a question," the boy said.
"Fire away," Charles replied, with a smile.
Jack locked eyes with him, not straying for even one second. "So the only way we can go home is to kill everyone else?"
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Charles raised one eyebrow. "Those are the rules. So... Are we ready to begin?"
Stubbing the butt of the cigarette out on the podium, the young man tore open the envelope that he held and pulled out a small card.
"Okay, the first student to be heading out will be..." He flicked his eyes down to a student sat at the front of the room. "Girl Number Thirteen. Rin Homura."