tried to clear the area around her. Another student had bolted out the door, yelling for help.
"Nobody go near her," the teacher said; "there's nothing you can do. Let the seizure run its course."
Matty packed up the textbook and slung his backpack over a shoulder. A small crowd gathered around the convulsing figure; the teacher hovered nearby, pushing people back and asking everyone to stay calm.
"Class dismissed," Matty murmured. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. "What a fucked up day this is turning out to be."
His next class wasn't until one, so Matty meandered to the cafeteria and bought two large coffees. The library was deserted, and he found an isolated booth in the far corner. He checked the desk and the partition walls, but nothing new had been carved since the last time. "For a good BJ" was still there, but the number was scratched off.
Matty slid the netbook out from its nylon sleeve and powered it on. While it was loading, he sipped the steaming coffee and shuddered. "Fuck me, that's worse than Drippin's brew."
He keyed in the login password and was on the desktop in a few seconds. The wifi link indicated an excellent signal; he opened the browser and surfed through various news sites.
The flu epidemic had spread to most major cities, but the mortality rate was less than three percent. Matty sifted through some articles about the biological factoids of mutating viruses and suppressed immune systems, eventually landing on a page that showed something new and disturbing.
Video clips of people having seizures all over the place filled a page entitled "Wave of Seizures Shocks Medical Community". The clips were uploaded by phone and were not part of the original article, but it was an exact replica of the scenario from Matty's previous class.
The article read: "Seemingly healthy people are suffering from seizures—some of them considered 'Grand Mal' seizures. Health officials are stumped as to the cause of these seizures, and there appears to be no link to the ongoing flu epidemic."
What kind of shit did they put in the vaccines this time? Matty wondered. He closed the browser and opened the 'Games' folder. An hour of world conquest and dictatorial regimes should make me feel a whole lot better . He popped earphones in and turned up the volume.
Matty polished both coffees and stacked the cups inside each other. He checked the time: twenty minutes to his favorite class, Philosophy.
A warning beep sounded from the game: another enslaved city was in revolt. This is how we handle rebels in Mattopia! He clicked on a nuclear icon and plotted the missile launch; the flash of fire and erupting mushroom cloud indicated a direct hit. Booya! Now let's see you revolt, peasants!
Reveling in autocratic power, he failed to notice the declarations of war piling up in the diplomacy field near the bottom of the screen. As Mattopian troops massacred unarmed rebels in the digital world, his computer-controlled opponents launched a dozen ICBMs and reduced the once-thriving Mattopia to ashes.
"Sons of bitches!" He yelled out, standing and shaking a fist at the computer screen. His eyes scanned the library, suddenly aware of the silence that he so eloquently shattered.
"There's no one else here," a brunette with pigtails and neon-pink glasses said from the circulation desk. "Sounds like a pretty intense book."
Matty pulled the earphones out and smirked. "I was playing 'World Conquests' and got nuked by a handful of upstart countries with no respect for absolutism."
"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes and went back to texting, tweeting, or whatever she was doing on the handheld mind-control device.
"Like you even understood a syllable of what I just said," he murmured.
Matty powered down the netbook and slid it back into the sleeve. He tossed the empty cups on the way out. Outside the library, the hallway was silent and void of
"Nobody go near her," the teacher said; "there's nothing you can do. Let the seizure run its course."
Matty packed up the textbook and slung his backpack over a shoulder. A small crowd gathered around the convulsing figure; the teacher hovered nearby, pushing people back and asking everyone to stay calm.
"Class dismissed," Matty murmured. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. "What a fucked up day this is turning out to be."
His next class wasn't until one, so Matty meandered to the cafeteria and bought two large coffees. The library was deserted, and he found an isolated booth in the far corner. He checked the desk and the partition walls, but nothing new had been carved since the last time. "For a good BJ" was still there, but the number was scratched off.
Matty slid the netbook out from its nylon sleeve and powered it on. While it was loading, he sipped the steaming coffee and shuddered. "Fuck me, that's worse than Drippin's brew."
He keyed in the login password and was on the desktop in a few seconds. The wifi link indicated an excellent signal; he opened the browser and surfed through various news sites.
The flu epidemic had spread to most major cities, but the mortality rate was less than three percent. Matty sifted through some articles about the biological factoids of mutating viruses and suppressed immune systems, eventually landing on a page that showed something new and disturbing.
Video clips of people having seizures all over the place filled a page entitled "Wave of Seizures Shocks Medical Community". The clips were uploaded by phone and were not part of the original article, but it was an exact replica of the scenario from Matty's previous class.
The article read: "Seemingly healthy people are suffering from seizures—some of them considered 'Grand Mal' seizures. Health officials are stumped as to the cause of these seizures, and there appears to be no link to the ongoing flu epidemic."
What kind of shit did they put in the vaccines this time? Matty wondered. He closed the browser and opened the 'Games' folder. An hour of world conquest and dictatorial regimes should make me feel a whole lot better . He popped earphones in and turned up the volume.
Matty polished both coffees and stacked the cups inside each other. He checked the time: twenty minutes to his favorite class, Philosophy.
A warning beep sounded from the game: another enslaved city was in revolt. This is how we handle rebels in Mattopia! He clicked on a nuclear icon and plotted the missile launch; the flash of fire and erupting mushroom cloud indicated a direct hit. Booya! Now let's see you revolt, peasants!
Reveling in autocratic power, he failed to notice the declarations of war piling up in the diplomacy field near the bottom of the screen. As Mattopian troops massacred unarmed rebels in the digital world, his computer-controlled opponents launched a dozen ICBMs and reduced the once-thriving Mattopia to ashes.
"Sons of bitches!" He yelled out, standing and shaking a fist at the computer screen. His eyes scanned the library, suddenly aware of the silence that he so eloquently shattered.
"There's no one else here," a brunette with pigtails and neon-pink glasses said from the circulation desk. "Sounds like a pretty intense book."
Matty pulled the earphones out and smirked. "I was playing 'World Conquests' and got nuked by a handful of upstart countries with no respect for absolutism."
"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes and went back to texting, tweeting, or whatever she was doing on the handheld mind-control device.
"Like you even understood a syllable of what I just said," he murmured.
Matty powered down the netbook and slid it back into the sleeve. He tossed the empty cups on the way out. Outside the library, the hallway was silent and void of
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