Chapter 2: The beginning of the end
Evangeline
"Eva, earth to Eva," Hannah, my best friend, called out to me as I gazed at the city.
"Yes," I answered absent-mindedly. Smoke veiled the once-blue skies. What was happening? Perhaps there had been an accident or a building had caught fire. How tragic. I blinked away from the city and focused on her. Hannah had soft brown eyes, neck-length chocolate hair, freckles tracing her cheeks, and soft pink lips. She was a beauty, and it seemed boys never tired of reminding her.
"Good, you're finally back from Wonderland," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "We should head back to class." She grabbed my hand and began to lead me.
I followed her silently, my thoughts still lingering on the smoke.
The next period was Mr. Nelson's English class, and I despised it. Why was something so elementary taught at a high school? For goodness' sake, I'm sixteen; I know how to construct a sentence.
"You don't look happy," a teasing voice said from my right, and I knew who it was.
"I can't stand English class," I answered flatly.
"What more can I expect from our genius," he teased again.
"That I am," I said, finally looking at Oliver with his wild red hair and hazel eyes glimmering with amusement.
"Your arrogance never ceases to amaze me," he said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "You should try being humble for once."
"It's not arrogance, just confidence," I commented. "And modesty doesn't suit me."
"Whatever," he put his glasses back on and grinned at me. "Wanna stop by the arcade after school? I'm sure Alex won't mind," he asked eagerly.
I grinned. "Sure, why not?"
"We can grab some milkshakes after that," he suggested, and I was all for it. Just as I was about to answer him, the fire alarms started blaring.
"Hmm, that's odd. Maybe it's just a drill. We should get up," I said, grabbing my bag and following my other classmates outside the classroom.
There was something eerie in the air. The school was dead quiet until it wasn't. Screams erupted, but I couldn't discern where they were coming from. Everyone was now heading towards the exit, but not in the calm way we'd been taught about.
My first instinct was to grab hold of Hannah and run to the roof. Oliver must've seen us and followed. My father always said that to discern a battlefield, having a bird's-eye view was the way to go. I could see everything from here—corpses littering the ground and limping hordes. A scene straight out of a movie. And the city, the city.
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