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Book: The Dawn of the Lost: Prequel to The Lost and the Wicked by Cesar Gonzalez
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Authors: Cesar Gonzalez
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lie as I take a seat in the very last desk of the middle row. Truth is, I haven’t even bothered to study. I don’t see the point to it. The scores aren’t even going to be used to tally our final score. It’s just another dumb test that we have to take for the state. But I don’t have the heart to tell Ms. Lopez that. Of all my teachers, she’s the one I tolerate the best. Maybe it’s her calm demeanor, or the way she always lets me make up work, even if it’s a week late.
“I hope so,” she says, pacing around the room. Her blue loafers squeak loudly against the pristine tile. “Where is everyone?”
“They’re all outside in the hallway glued to their phones. You know how they are. Don’t expect them for a while.”
But just as I finish talking, the rest of the class trudges in, herded by the red-faced Mrs. Todd. “You would do well to keep your students in line, Ms. Lopez,” she hisses trough bare teeth. “They’re outside being good for nothings, while you are doing the same.”
Ms. Lopez remains quiet and nods, showing no sign of emotion. “You have a good day too, Mrs. Todd.”
Angered by Mrs. Lopez’s indifference, Mrs. Todd storms out of the room, mumbling loudly under her breath.
Ms. Lopez waits for everyone to seat before she speaks. “Were you all being difficult with poor Mrs. Todd again? I told you to be nice to her. She’s going through a hard time.”
“That lady is a witch!” exclaims Lucy, a brown haired girl who sits in front of me. She is wearing her cheerleader uniform. The red pompoms stick out the top of her open backpack. “We were trying to tell her about the attack, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Lucy and I don’t agree on much, but for once she says something I can totally get on board with. Mrs. Todd is a witch. I’m so focused on her comment about Mrs. Todd that I almost don’t register what she said about an attack.
Clearly, Ms. Lopez is paying more attention, because her small lips twist in confusion. “ Attack ?”
“Yes!” screams Dennis, a wiry tall boy who sits at the front. “It’s all over the news.”
Ms. Lopez looks doubtful, but nonetheless, she grabs the remote and turns the television on. Instantly, the shrieking voice of a female reporter blasts through the speakers. With all the noise, it’s hard to figure out exactly what she’s saying. The caption under her is as clear as day, however. It reads San Diego under attack from unknown source . Behind her, tall skyscrapers with dark smoke pouring out of them fill the screen. The skyline looks like a strange mix of orange and black, almost as if the sky itself is on fire.
My insides twist. This can’t be real. It’s a trick.
“It must be some type of ruse,” says Mrs. Lopez, echoing my exact thoughts. “Don’t panic. Back in 1938, many radio stations broadcasted War of the Worlds . Thousand of confused listeners actually believed that Mars had attacked. I’m certain that something similar is going on here. You all know how realistic computer graphics have gotten nowadays.” But despite her words, I can hear the layer of apprehension in her voice.
Suddenly, a red light shoots from the sky on the screen. It falls down, in a straight line, landing at the center of two skyscrapers. A loud screeching sound ensues. A second later, the skyscrapers collapse to the ground, leaving a mushroom cloud of dust and debris in its wake.
The reporter turns toward the mayhem, and then back to the screen. She looks lost, as if unsure if she should continue talking or flee. Before she can make up her mind, the red light spreads from where it landed at an alarming speed. She tries to run, but the strange anomaly is on her in no time.
The image on the screen is suddenly replaced by loud static.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest. “What the fu—”
“Summer!” yells Ms. Lopez. “No cussing on school grounds.”
“We have bigger problems than cussing,” I say, my voice shaky. I know that Ms.
“I hope so,” she says, pacing around the room. Her blue loafers squeak loudly against the pristine tile. “Where is everyone?”
“They’re all outside in the hallway glued to their phones. You know how they are. Don’t expect them for a while.”
But just as I finish talking, the rest of the class trudges in, herded by the red-faced Mrs. Todd. “You would do well to keep your students in line, Ms. Lopez,” she hisses trough bare teeth. “They’re outside being good for nothings, while you are doing the same.”
Ms. Lopez remains quiet and nods, showing no sign of emotion. “You have a good day too, Mrs. Todd.”
Angered by Mrs. Lopez’s indifference, Mrs. Todd storms out of the room, mumbling loudly under her breath.
Ms. Lopez waits for everyone to seat before she speaks. “Were you all being difficult with poor Mrs. Todd again? I told you to be nice to her. She’s going through a hard time.”
“That lady is a witch!” exclaims Lucy, a brown haired girl who sits in front of me. She is wearing her cheerleader uniform. The red pompoms stick out the top of her open backpack. “We were trying to tell her about the attack, but she wouldn’t listen.”
Lucy and I don’t agree on much, but for once she says something I can totally get on board with. Mrs. Todd is a witch. I’m so focused on her comment about Mrs. Todd that I almost don’t register what she said about an attack.
Clearly, Ms. Lopez is paying more attention, because her small lips twist in confusion. “ Attack ?”
“Yes!” screams Dennis, a wiry tall boy who sits at the front. “It’s all over the news.”
Ms. Lopez looks doubtful, but nonetheless, she grabs the remote and turns the television on. Instantly, the shrieking voice of a female reporter blasts through the speakers. With all the noise, it’s hard to figure out exactly what she’s saying. The caption under her is as clear as day, however. It reads San Diego under attack from unknown source . Behind her, tall skyscrapers with dark smoke pouring out of them fill the screen. The skyline looks like a strange mix of orange and black, almost as if the sky itself is on fire.
My insides twist. This can’t be real. It’s a trick.
“It must be some type of ruse,” says Mrs. Lopez, echoing my exact thoughts. “Don’t panic. Back in 1938, many radio stations broadcasted War of the Worlds . Thousand of confused listeners actually believed that Mars had attacked. I’m certain that something similar is going on here. You all know how realistic computer graphics have gotten nowadays.” But despite her words, I can hear the layer of apprehension in her voice.
Suddenly, a red light shoots from the sky on the screen. It falls down, in a straight line, landing at the center of two skyscrapers. A loud screeching sound ensues. A second later, the skyscrapers collapse to the ground, leaving a mushroom cloud of dust and debris in its wake.
The reporter turns toward the mayhem, and then back to the screen. She looks lost, as if unsure if she should continue talking or flee. Before she can make up her mind, the red light spreads from where it landed at an alarming speed. She tries to run, but the strange anomaly is on her in no time.
The image on the screen is suddenly replaced by loud static.
My heart beats rapidly in my chest. “What the fu—”
“Summer!” yells Ms. Lopez. “No cussing on school grounds.”
“We have bigger problems than cussing,” I say, my voice shaky. I know that Ms.
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