School by Nathaniel Hardman (top reads .TXT) 📕

down, barely aware of Peter and Jeff doing the same. Jeff repeated, “It’s Voldemort,” his tone incredulous, awestruck. Peter swore in a low whisper. Suzy just stared.

The man was standing still, taking stock of his surroundings. Suzy saw him take a deep breath and hold it. His nose slits flared as he released the breath, and a look of satisfaction crossed his face. He turned and looked in all directions.

As he turned, Suzy looked from his face to his clothes, which made her think of a Native American brave, minus the feathered headdress, and with everything dyed a deep maroon. Also, he was wearing shorts rather than pants or a loincloth. And his shirt wrapped around like a kimono. In fact, nothing that he wore looked Native American, but somehow the overall effect was primitive warrior.

Bracelets hung around each wrist, and anklets rested on each foot. Several necklaces hung around his neck, and though Suzy couldn’t be sure from her distance, she thought he was wearing rings on his thumbs.

Without warning, he took off at a sprint parallel to the school wall. This movement away from their room did much to calm the most terrified of the students, and most of the class crowded into the window to watch as he disappeared around the back of the building. They waited, both eager and afraid to see him come back.

Suzy glanced up at the TV, half expecting to see coverage of the alien running around their school, but it was the same anchor talking to some scientist while a clip of Two-Head played on the split screen.

She glanced at Jeff, and their eyes met. He started to mouth, “Vold—” but Suzy cut him off. “Knock it off, Jeff! It’s not Voldemort. It just has a snakey face.”

“And a wand,” Jeff griped.

“I’m sure it wasn’t a wand. It was probably a...” Suzy faltered, not knowing WHAT it probably was. “A stick,” she finished lamely. “Or some sort of tool, or food...”

“Oh sure, Suzy. It was probably a big ol’ piece of beef jerky he brought along for a snack in case he got hungry.” Suzy started to counter that ANY explanation was more likely than a magic wand, but Paola started screaming again.

Suzy turned to watch as the alien came into view on the front side of the school, still running. They all stared as he finished his lap, ending in the same position where he had appeared. His chest was heaving, but he stood tall and proud.

In the background, Suzy heard CNN saying something about “reporters still being held inside the quarantine tent,” and it jostled something in her mind.

Suzy whipped her phone out and fumbled the camera on to record the alien. It was fairly dull for about fifteen seconds as he just stood there. Suzy was inching her finger toward “stop” when the alien flickered. He was there, and then he was gone, and their teacher was back.

Ms. Hacking was in the act of flinching away from something, her arms up protecting her head. She looked rather worse-for-wear:  her cigarette gone, her hair rumpled, one sleeve of her shirt missing. She cowered there for a few seconds, and Suzy realized her eyes were closed. Then one eye peeked, and then their teacher was staring around wildly in all directions.

Then Ms. Hacking was off, hurtling toward the parking lot at a remarkable speed.

Peter gave a low whistle. “Man, she can RUN!”

“Like a cheetah,” Jeff agreed.

“A frumpy cheetah with glasses,” Peter rejoined, smiling unkindly.

They watched as her car peeled out of the parking lot and disappeared around the corner of the block. Zoe sniffled and asked wetly, “Should we go tell Mr. McArthur?”

No one answered. Suzy posted the video on Instagram. Ryan came back in the room.

Suzy’s and Jeff’s phones simultaneously vibrated. Suzy read the text from her mom: “Just got phones back. Will call soon. We are fine. Are u ok? Love u. Be safe”

New enthusiasm in the anchor’s tone broke through Suzy’s concentration, and she looked up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

The split screen image showed Julie, the reporter from this morning, inside the plastic tent. It was crowded in there, with at least half a dozen other reporters also trying to deliver reports to their crews. They didn’t have too much to say, except that the Army had decided they could start broadcasting again from inside the tent. The reporters had been separated from the aliens, so they hadn’t seen anything all day and had been forced to sit on the lawn with nothing to do and nothing to eat. Julie was trying to keep it professional, but she looked annoyed. Suzy felt bad for her.

Abruptly, the lights went off with a buzz, and Suzy felt a moment of dizziness. The TV went off as well. Shen jumped up and hit the power button, but nothing happened.

Suzy started to say, “I think the power’s out,” but Paola interrupted by screaming again. Earlier, Paola’s screams had been real, but they had seemed more shocked-and-stressed than scared. The sound she was making now was pure, animal terror, and it was infectious.

Suzy’s heart hammered. Zoe started screaming then too, and Peter shouted out a stream of obscenities. They were all staring at something out the window. Suzy couldn’t look, but she couldn’t not.

She looked.

Her knees buckled, and she had to catch herself on the desk so she didn’t fall.

For Suzy, the most alarming thing wasn’t the double row of snake-faced men arrayed in formation facing the school. It wasn’t their weapons or even the dozen two-headed dogs they held on leashes. It was where they stood – the black cobbled courtyard, the thirty-foot stone wall behind them. It was the pair of red suns in the pale orange sky above them and the knowledge that settled sickeningly into Suzy’s gut that she