Book 4 Chapter 8
Book 4 Chapter 8
India's POV.
I sit in my classroom, replaying that awful conversation in my head. God, he must really dislike me.
I have an empty classroom for another five minutes, giving me time to gather my thoughts.
Today, 233 of the 294 pupils at the school, are off on a field trip. They are visiting the two neighboring
packs.
Some of the older kids will potentially find their mates, they will learn about pack life (how it might differ
from their own) and compete in games and sports.
The 61 pupils remaining are split into three classes, one of which I am teaching. These pupils either
declined to go on the trip, or pupils are deemed too naughty to go on the trip. We still need our school
represented by good pupils, and those who have gotten into fights or vandalized school property are
not going to represent us.
To my irritation, Jake Lockwood is not going on the trip. According to him, mates are for 'pussies', and
he's already visited neighboring packs with his dad.
Honestly, I think he wants free rein in a half—empty school, with his naughty friends who weren't
allowed to go.
Remaining in the school are the 61 pupils and about seven members of staff, myself included. I'm
relieved that I'm staying behind, the trip sounds stressful.
The school buses leave at 9 am and will return at 3 pm for the usual end of school time.
In the morning, the remaining students had their form time (homeroom) extended to an hour. After that,
they had math. In five minutes, they have science with me. After lunch they have English and a movie.
After a few minutes, students start trickling into the room.
'Bags to one side of the room, please. We're going to be doing a practical and I don't want anyone
tripping over anything,' I call out.
The fourteen students in the class, including Jake Lockwood, move their bags to the left—hand side of
the room. I glance at Jake and try not to think about the fact I saw his dad in the shower last night.
Completely inappropriate.
I decided they could do the fun practice of the squeaky pop test for hydrogen today. I light my Bunsen
burner at the front as they sit quietly and read through the method.
'Miss, what's with all the soldiers outside' A boy at the back asks. I frown and follow his gaze out of the
window.
My eyes land on the group of people, dressed in full black attire. They're marching across the school
field towards the main building, our building.
Is there a drill going on I wasn't told of any emergency protocol practices today.
I step closer to the window to get a better view and inhale sharply when I see the huge guns in their
hands. I watch as the leader, a large man at the front of the group, begins gesturing with his hands and
the people start breaking off in twos and threes. I do a quick headcount, sixteen trespassers.
I rush to my desk, pick up the phone and press the number for the reception.
'Hello, reception,' Becky answers and I struggle to get my words out.
'Sixteen people coming across the field, with guns, Becky, guns! Get the children hidden now, call the
Alpha!' I shout and panic ensues in the room.
The pupils get out of their seats and head towards the door which I quickly jump in front of.
'No one leaves. It's too late, they're almost here,' I tell them, and kids start screaming, one burst into
tears.
'Silence!' I shout and, amazingly, it goes quiet.
'Give me a second to think,' I tell them and glance around the room.
'Right, everyone into the chemicals cupboard, now,' I order them.
I unlock the cupboard and they all crush inside. There are only fourteen of them and they just manage
to fit.
'I am going to lock this door. Do not open it, for anyone, understand Do not make a sound. I mean it,
you're going to be okay,' I tell them.
'I'm not staying in here, I'll fight them,' Jake says aggressively and pushes his way to the front, to leave
the cupboard.
'Absolutely not, Jake,' I reply and push him back inside.
'I'm the future Alpha! I must protect everyone!' He yells and I want to roll my eyes.
He's got good Alpha instincts; I'll give him that.
'Exactly. If anything happens to you, your father will kill me. You are thirteen years old; you are not
fighting anyone.'
I shut the door and lock it.
I sneak a glance out of the window and see that the soldiers are gone from the field, which means
they're inside. I look around the room and spot all of their bags in the corner, I begin frantically throwing
them in cupboards. I shove pencil cases and pens inside them until it doesn't look like there are any
pupils in this lesson.
I need to cover their scent.
I unlock the cupboard door again and one of them screams.
'It's just me. Please hand me the ammonia, NH3 1M. Yes, the big bottle, thank you.'
I take it off them and lock the door again. Then, I unscrew the cap from the two—liter bottle and pour it
into beakers, the strong smell instantly fills the room.
I listen out for footsteps down the corridor and curse as I hear the children whispering and scuffling
against each other.
I knock on the cupboard door.
'Silent guys, I can still hear you,' I hiss, and it goes a bit quieter.
My eyes land on the fume cupboard and I turn it on, the loud whirring noise drowns out everything else.
That's how the soldier finds me, he opens the lab door and I'm stood by the fume cupboard pouring out
more ammonia.
'You, out here, now,' he orders, pointing his large gun at me.
I swallow hard and put down the ammonia bottle with shaking hands, purposefully leaving the lid off. I
stumble towards him, when I am within reaching distance, he grabs my arm and pulls me through the
door.
'What's going on' I ask as he drags me not—so—gently by my arm down the corridor.
He doesn't answer, but I spot two more soldiers opening doors and scouring the classrooms.
I'm taken outside onto the main field, where the other pupils are stood in a huddle with three soldiers
surrounding them.
I'm shoved towards a group of teachers, six of them, all on their knees.
'To your knees,' one of the soldier's orders, nudging me with the barrel of his gun. I drop to my knees
next to Becky.
'Right, class.' The leader casually leans his gun on his shoulder and addresses us. 'Today, we are
looking for a specific pupil, I know he's not on your little trip.'
He glances down at his watch.
'We have eight minutes to find him before Daddy shows up. So. tell me…' he pauses, and I know what
he's going to ask.
'Where is Jacob Lockwood'
My heart sinks.
He's in my chemicals cupboard in Lab 2.
Damn it, Jake.
'We don't have all day people; the Alpha will be here soon and the whole point of this was to do it
without him.'
The leader marches up and down arrogantly in front of us. He's only thirty—ish, with an attractive face
and brown hair.
'Okay, no one is going to talk That's fine. Student number one, please,' he calls.
I watch in horror as a Year 8 (12—13) girl is pulled forward by a soldier and forced to her knees, crying
hysterically. The leader presses a handgun to her temple.
'Someone tell me where I can find the Alpha's son or this little one will die in three…'
He pauses and glances at each one of us teachers.
'Two.'
Becky wails next to me, and my hands shake.
'One.'
A scream sounds out and the leader pauses.
'He was in Miss Mitchell's class!' Debbie, the ICT teacher, shouts next to me. Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.
Damn it, Debbie.
'Who's Miss Mitchell' The leader asks and everyone turns to face me.
His dark eyes land on me and he grins evilly. I'm lifted by my arms and suddenly, I'm on my feet with
the leader's face right up in mine.
'Come on, Miss Mitchell, where are you hiding him' He taunts and I swallow hard, biting my tongue.
'Are you really going to let this little one…' He turns back to the girl. 'What's your name'
'Daisy,' she sputters, and he looks at me.
'Are you going to let Daisy die, Miss Mitchell' He asks and a lone tear rolls down my cheek.
'I'm not telling you where he is,' I bite the words out and he glares at me.
If I can just drag this out as long as possible, it gives the Alpha and our guards more time to get here.
'I'm here! Take me and don't hurt anyone else!' I hear Jake's voice and my shoulders sag in defeat.
So much for that plan.
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