Dead Bitten

Chapter 7

No, I was not.

I mean, he hadn’t dragged me into any kind of danger.

It’s just that “safe” was simply something that had ceased to exist, although at the time I didn’t know it.

The first person I saw was Carlos Dutra: another third year, more familiar to me because we studied in the same room. He had dark skin, black eyes and hair, and an expression of few friends. Unlike most of our peers, he had defined muscles and more adult features. I was idly by the wooden door that divided the hallway we were coming from from the rest of the high school classrooms, in a sharp curve. When he saw us, he assumed a nervous posture as he realized how fast we were running.

I noticed that he was holding an iron bar in his hand. There was blood on him.

William didn’t seem surprised, as he continued running towards the door. By then, I had managed to establish my balance and was running with him, a few steps back.

“Close the door when we pass!” Guilherme said, as we approached. “There are others coming!”

At that moment, I turned my head back to see what was going on. At first, there were two that were moving very fast, almost running, but the four following seemed to be slower. But still slow, they moved with determination, unwilling to stop.

All but one wore school uniforms, but their bruises were so grotesque that I refused to stare, trying to identify them. What sense would that make, anyway? I couldn’t even tell if they were still alive.

We ran through the huge dark wooden door and I immediately heard the sound of it closing. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to see Carlos analyzing the two door handles lined up and finally wedging a piece of wood between them, making sure the door wouldn’t open.

As soon as he finished, he turned to us, focusing his eyes on Guilherme.

“You got it? “

Guilherme didn’t answer, just showed two keys that he carried in his hands, both with plastic keychains hanging, indicating “3A” in one and “3B” in the other. They were keys to the rooms of the third year classes.

“I still think your idea is retarded,” Carlos said bluntly, turning to me. He didn’t bother to hide the suspicion on his face.

“Rebecca, were you attacked?” He looked me up and down. I didn’t follow his gaze, imagining that there must be trails of blood all over my body, even if they didn’t look like they were seriously injured. I shook my head, holding his gaze as he looked back at me. “What happened to your pants?”

I looked down, seeing my dusty leggings with a few superficial rips.

“I was trapped in one of the bathroom stalls, with one of those things outside. I had to climb over the partitions to get to the door and out, I think I ripped it in the process,” I lied, running my hand over my shins. They were shallow rips and I knew I hadn’t done any damage to my leg, so I figured I’d better hide the fact that I’d been one of them.

“There was only one? Didn’t you try to hit him? “

I looked at him, amazed.

“Should I knock? It was a girl in a school uniform… Anyway, they don’t even seem to mind the pain. I saw one of them break his teeth in front of me and not even feel it,” I replied.

“They don’t stop because it hurts, but if you can hit them really hard, you can knock them down. In this they’re still like normal people… “

” “And sometimes when you knock, they stop,” William interrupted. “I don’t know why and it only happens sometimes, but I think they die…” He let the sentence hang in the air, uncertain.

I understand his hesitation. How can you say that something that is already dead has died again?

We were silent for a few seconds, not so comfortable with the situation. Guilherme and Carlos were good friends, but I wasn’t particularly close to either of them. I just exchanged some ideas related to class or exams with Carlos occasionally, when our groups of friends were together. I still wasn’t sure if I had talked to Guilherme before.

“Let’s go then,” Carlos began, turning to the hallway ahead of us. “The others are waiting. "

“What others?” I prepared to ask, but as soon as I turned in the same direction as Carlos, my question was answered.

There was a group of people—more than I expected to see alive at that moment. None of them were particularly close to me, but it was impossible not to feel happiness at seeing other human faces.

The biggest surprise was seeing our geography teacher, Rogério. He was a very tall man, with shaved hair and aviator-style glasses. Unlike most professors, this one was not particularly close to the students, doing his job and putting no effort into extending any relationship beyond pure professional formality. He looked restless, tying something to Melissa’s leg.

Melissa Marriott chewed on her painted thumbnail, staring blankly into space, looking terrified. She was a beautiful, pleasant and kind girl, who would certainly only be described with kind words by anyone in that school. She had sun-tanned skin and blond hair that rippled down her back. You could tell she was the bad girl in high school, from her perfect looks and gringo surname, if you didn’t know her well. Beside her was Victória Carvalho, a black girl with long straight hair. He wore big, round gold-rimmed glasses and held his cell phone to his ear, but he didn’t say anything. Victoria’s voice was low and contained, she was kind, but she invested all the time available in her studies.

Ana Neves, Melissa’s best friend, was sitting on her other side, with her cell phone in her hand. Breaking the mood of nice people, Ana was a complete idiot. She was a sophomore, but I knew her from handball practice. He played as well as his ego was high, but not infrequently he used excessive physical strength and aggressiveness to beat opponents in marking. What was amazing when we played together representing the school, it became irritating to play against during training. She didn’t like me.

Standing by the window was a tall, chubby boy with auburn hair and light freckles across his face, which blended in with some of his pimples. He wore glasses and his face was serious, looking out of the building. Faber, a third-year Colombian exchange student, was beside him, crying in tears. Straight black hair flowed down to almost cover her eyes.

A black girl with curly, voluminous hair was talking to a boy I knew because he had studied with me: Davi de Melo, who failed last year. He dressed in a caricature like a typical troubled badboy. Leather jacket, mohawk and spiked collar. Completing that strange group was another third year, Laura Garcia, a classmate I knew and liked, with brown hair and thick glasses. She was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and looking at the All-stars themselves. Tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes and she looked like she was in shock.

I understood, watching all those students from different classes together and the keys in Guilherme’s hand — indicating that the doors were locked — that the chaos, which took place around the time of high school break, never allowed the students to return to the classroom.

It started around 10:00 in the morning, when the younger students returned to the classrooms and we, the older ones, were released for recess. The indicator of the beginning of the chaos was an irregular movement near the access gate, which remained closed during the class period. Me, Débora and Amanda, who always spent the break together, tried to follow from afar, but it was difficult to understand what exactly happened. Until Débora got fed up and decided to get closer, while Amanda and I stayed away. Soon people started whispering about a strange guy who walked into the school and refused to obey the security guard’s orders. He was not armed, but appeared disoriented and was behaving strangely.

I wish I could say no, but deep down I was afraid I could already imagine what it was all about. After all, it had been reported all over the world already, and although we had lost touch with various forums and websites that purported to run news censored by the media, nothing seemed to suggest that it had improved. When, at last, the first cry came, I confess that…

“Rebeca! I’m glad that you are well!” Victoria’s low, sweet voice gently pulled me out of my daydreams. She smiled weakly at me as I approached, looking like a fragile little bird, she was so thin as she shivered in fear. His eyes were swollen and red.

“Look, did you come running so fast that the pigtails let go?” Ana added sarcastically. She was referring to the usual hairstyle I wore to play games, with two high pigtails on my head, as I didn’t like to wear a ponytail. She had already made it clear a few times how much she disliked this preference of mine. My black hair was down that morning because there was no practice.

Melissa looked at her wide-eyed, reproachfully, but didn’t say anything.

I smiled back at Victoria, but I couldn’t hide my annoyance for a long time as I approached them.