Stray Cat Strut Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two

Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two

Suzette wanted to cry. She could feel the tears coming, stinging her behind her eyes. It wasn't a nice sensation, but... she felt like it was understandable, at the mont.

The nearest shelter to the school was... several blocks away, and it was a public shelter. The sort of place no one wanted to be caught in.

There might have been a few others dotted across the city, but those would be private, or owned by the corporation whose building they were hidden within. She wouldn't have any more luck with those.

A hand pressed against her shoulder, and she almost jumped in fright. "Give a minute," lanie said.

"What?" Suzette asked.

Then lanie turned to so of the other teachers. They were very pointedly not looking at Sue. "Do you have extra magazines? There should be three per gun, right?"

"Are you serious?" the English teacher--his na escaped Suzette at the mont--asked.

"Very," lanie said. "And I wouldn't mind an extra handgun either. Or a rifle. We split what we had already."

The teachers seed reluctant, but they weren't bad people. lanie was given one of their rifles, along with a few extra magazines, then an extra handgun and more magazines for that as well.

They slipped past Suzette, not eting her eyes, not looking her way, but still... they knew she was there, otherwise they wouldn't be going around her so much.

Sue took in a deep breath from her nose, and if it was a little sniffly, then that was on her.

"Hmm, where can we sit?" lanie asked as she looked around.

Sue turned her way. She had a hand out towards Sue, with a rifle grabbed by its middle. Her purse, which was more of a satchel filled with toys and teaching supplies and a few knick-knacks, was hanging by her hip, filled to the brim with spare ammunition now.

"What are you doing?" Sue asked.

"Keeping a student safe," lanie said. She gave Sue a soft smile. "You're an intern, which ans you're here to learn, which ans that I'm your teacher, no? A good teacher doesn't abandon a student, even if they're a little troubleso."

"No," Sue said. "You can't stay out here, it's--"

"It's fine," lanie said. "They'll probably not make it this far, and we don't need to stand out where it'll be easy for them to get to us if they do make it here." She pointed to the main school building, up at the upper floors.

"Oh, Miss Fizz, you... you don't have to. You're allowed to be in the shelter."

lanie shook her head and smiled. "Co on, we can talk! I've been aning to have a good heart-to-heart with soone for a while. It's good for the soul, you see."

Suzette couldn't decide if she should cry or laugh. Instead of either, she picked up the rifle and slung its strap over her shoulder. She was wearing sensible pants, with small pockets, so she had space to stuff a few magazines away.

They took a mont to sort through what they had. Seven magazines. Four for the two rifles, three for the two handguns. That wasn't including those already in the guns themselves.

That was a decent amount of ammunition, Sue figured.

lanie checked her gun's chamber, then nodded. "Co on! We can talk along the way."

"Where are we going?" Sue asked. She followed lanie anyway, feeling rather small as she kept up.

"Upper floor, one down from the roof. I want a good view of the playground. If the aliens co sniffing at the shelter, then I want to be able to take a good shot at them."

"Oh," Sue replied. It made so sense, she supposed. She wasn't sure how good of a shot she was, not with only a few hours at the range to show for it, but she'd give it a try. "You don't have to," she said again.

"I know," lanie replied without looking back. "But I'll stay anyway."

"Why?" Sue asked.

If she was in lanie's dinosaur-print Mary Janes, she wasn't sure she'd be so quick to sacrifice herself.

"Because if I was where you are, I'd want soone to stay with ," lanie said. "Do you know what the most important lesson you can teach a student is?"

"I'm assuming it's not addition," Sue said.

lanie laughed, clear and happy. "No, though that's not a bad start. It's empathy. If everyone everywhere was able to see things from a perspective that wasn't just their own, then I think the world would be a much kinder, nicer place. But empathy is hard to teach. It's impossible to teach if you're not willing to show it yourself."

"Oh," Sue said.

She kept to herself as they climbed the stairs up and up to the topmost floor. By the end, her knees and calves were aching and she was a little sweaty. lanie leaned against the door at the top of the stairs for a mont, then tugged at the neck of her blouse. "Woo! That's my cardio for the day! And here I thought I was keeping up with my exercises."

"Yeah," Sue agreed. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. She didn't want to look like a ss, not right now. But, then again, this wasn't a ti to be concerned about appearances.

"Let's close the door up behind us," lanie said. "There's a teacher's lounge up here, have you been?"

"Not to this one," Sue admitted.

The upper floors were for the middle-school students. The staff that taught them wasn't quite the sa as the primary-school staff. They worked for the sa school so they mingled, but they had their own office space and lounge.

"I did so middle-school teaching for a bit," lanie said. "But, to be honest, I prefer working with the younger students. They're so much more receptive. Then again... I guess that's not fair of . Middle-schoolers are just discovering themselves. They're learning who they really are in a way that the younger kids aren't. I think that might be when they most need the help and guidance that a good teacher and friend can give them."

"I suppose," Sue agreed.

The lounge was a decently large room, with a few sofas and a long row of windows overlooking the playground. lanie almost imdiately started moving things around, grabbing a sofa by the edge and dragging it towards the doorway.

"Let help," Sue said before she jumped to do just that.

"Thank you," lanie replied.

Soon enough, they had the door barricaded, though Sue suspected that if sothing really wanted in, they could burst through the thin walls. There was a long window on the inside, looking into the corridor just behind.

"Alright, let's settle down, then, huh?" lanie asked as she pulled up a chair and brought it closer to the window.

"Should we open the windows?" Sue asked.

"Oh, the latches are decorative. They don't actually open," lanie replied. "We'll have to shoot through them, I'm afraid."

That was... typical. Sue grabbed a chair, and settled in next to lanie. Her heart was still beating hard, though she couldn't tell if it was the climb or the stress or sothing else. She sat with a rifle across her lap, feeling tired, wired, and like she wanted to be elsewhere.

"I hope the kids are alright," lanie muttered. Her attention was obviously on the playground below. There were a few vents poking out of the ground next to so of the jungle gyms. Those lead down into the shelter, feeding air to the students.

"I hope so too," Sue said. "You, ah, really care, don't you?"

"I do."

"How?"

lanie looked at Sue and smiled. It made Sue's heart ache. Her gaze softened and when she spoke, her voice was gentle, yet firm. "How? Because caring isn't just a choice, Sue, it's a commitnt. Every day, in little ways, we choose to either care or not. And that choice, it defines us more than anything else. When we see soone in need, when we encounter fear or uncertainty, we have a choice--to turn away or to stand firm and offer a helping hand. I choose to care, to stand, because that's who I am, and who I believe we all can be."

"But, I'm afraid," Sue admitted.

lanie placed a reassuring hand on Suzette's shoulder. "We're here, in this mont, facing sothing terrifying, but we're not alone. We have each other, and as long as we stand together, there's always hope."

Sue found herself smiling back, at least, until she saw the first dark form slinking along through the playground, on the prowl for sothing innocent to defile and eat.

The Antithesis were here, and Suzette wasn't sure how lanie's hope would stand up to their reality.

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