Patriots, Page 3

Years Earlier:

  “Dustin, you coming tonight?” Jason said quietly. He nudged my arm when I refused to respond. “Dustin.”

  “I told you I don’t know.” I kept my gaze trained on the teacher.

  “Come on, Dustin. You haven’t come out since you blacked out at Mitch’s three weeks ago. It wasn’t that embarrassing.” Marissa said, a laugh escaping her mouth.

  “Exactly. That’s why,” I replied. I tried to keep my voice calm but her bringing it up frustrated me.

  “You’re really going to let that stop you from having fun tonight?” she asked, her head tilting and a disappointed look appearing on her face.

  “You know I don’t like to think about it.” I looked over to her, a smile forming unwillingly on my face. “It’s just-” Loud swooshing noises outside cut me off. They became so loud the teacher’s voice trailed off as he rushed to the window to see what was happening. Lines of tanks and humvees rolled down the road and they were accompanied by a group of fighter jets flying overhead. The teacher took his eyes off of the road and returned to the center of the room and continued the lecture.

  “Dustin, it’s gonna be crazy tonight, man.” Jason said in an attempt to persuade me again.

  “I know it is. And I'm sure I will be sorely missed,” I whispered. “Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to learn here unlike you two bums who are never going to make it into a prestigious community college like myself.”

  “I heard you don't need a degree to work at a carnival,” Marissa said. Her lips kicked up an inch on both ends upon making her remark. She looked at me slyly and awaited a rebuttal. Alright, Dustin, I thought to myself, I have to burn her but not too bad. “Well, you should know, shouldn't you?” I said, a cocky smirk appearing on my face. I brushed my hands through my hair smoothly. “Ball's in Dustin's court now,” Jason said in a deep voice and he had his hand cupped over his mouth. “Will he shoot? Not only that but he scored! Or should I say he will score tonight.” He winked at me. Dammit, Jason, you're ruining my chances. But you are a sly son of a bitch. I can't help but cock a grin at everything you say. “No, I told you guys I can't go. I have to watch my little brothers before work,” I said back. Mr. O’Riley suddenly stopped talking, turned to face me, and balled his fists and put them on his hips. “Something to tell the class, Dustin?” he asked. “Whatever you're saying must be very important to interrupt my lecture on the variations of…” Good God, man, get to the point. What class am I even in? “Sorry, sir. Won't happen again. I promise.” I sounded as convincing as I could muster while Jason sat next to me giggling. As soon as Mr. O’Reilly turned around, I snapped my fist and punched Jason in the side.

  “Guys,” Marissa said suddenly. “What is that?” We all suddenly heard a low rumbling noise. The water in various bottles started to ripple. Then the desks shook. The roof felt like it was about to come down at any second.

  “What's happening?” someone had yelled from the back of the room. More questioning voices piped up throughout the class. “What is that?” “What's going on?” Then we saw it. A drone flew overhead, metallic and shiny, flying too quickly to get any more than a glimpse. A few moments after it passed, we heard an explosion from farther into town. “Don't worry, students,” said O’Reilly. “It's just a drill… coming from the direction of the mayor's office. I'm sure everything's fine.”

  Sirens screeched through the air like a grouping of birds taking flight- sudden and sporadic. Police? Why are they getting involved in this? A squad car rolled into the parking lot outside of the school, tires leaving skid marks on the asphalt from an abrupt halt. Two officers- Walsh and Polanski- emerged from their respective sides of the car. They moved into the building without pause, their uniforms and equipment skirting to each side of their bodies as they went. “Dustin,” Jason said to me through closed lips well enough to make a ventriloquist envious, “is that Walsh?” I kept my eyes trained on the two policemen. Walsh’s was a face we saw routinely, his dark features and even darker uniform contrasted with the glow of the sun beating down on him. “Yeah, that’s Walsh.”

  Marissa shuffled her gaze between Jason and I hoping one of us would notice her and explain. Finally she blurted out: “How do you two know them?”