Last Light Falling (9 page)

“She is just jealous of you, Arena,” says Juliana.

Really? Jealous of what?
There is nothing about me that’s all that special. Why would anyone want to be like me?

“You are very beautiful, and she knows it. Do you not see that?” Juliana sincerely says. “All the guys gawk at you, and you don’t even recognize it. McKenzie has to make great efforts to dramatically get the attention she thinks she deserves to turn heads, but they all are attracted to you.”

I tilt my head down because I’m really too embarrassed to accept the compliment. No one has ever said anything so kind to me before. It just seems all too strange to me, and maybe because I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I haven’t ever subconsciously noticed my “beauty.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” I say. When Gabe gets up to dump his tray, I lean in closer to Juliana. “Just so you know, your beauty has not been unnoticed. I can tell by the look on my brother’s face when he looks at you, and he has great taste in girls,” I softly say. Juliana smiles and looks in Gabe’s direction.

The bell rings.

Well, I’ve managed to have two unpleasant encounters, and there is still half a day to go. For the rest of the day, we avoid any hesitation in-between classes just so we can evade any presence of Derrick. Since he is older, his classes are on the other side of the hall, but sometimes upperclassmen have to pass the freshman halls to get to their classes.

We have made it to the last class of the day: French. Everyone is required to have two credits of foreign language, and since Gabe and I already know the language very well, it makes an already uncomfortable day less stressful.

Before I sit in my assigned seat, I glance over in the corner and see Juliana. I don’t remember noticing her on the first day of class. I wave to her and by her surprise, she apparently didn’t realize it either. “At least we have one class together,” I say.

“I’m glad, I was hoping lunch wasn’t the only time we could meet up,” she says.

“Hey, did you know Gabe is assigned a seat right next to you?” I say.

“Funny how you don’t know your surroundings when you feel invisible to the world,” she says.

“Well, you’re visible to Gabe and me, especially Gabe,” I say cheerfully.

I know this class is supposed to be easy, but the absolute boredom I have to endure right now is painfully killing me. Everything is moving in slow motion, and when I think it’s about to come to a complete stop, an air-raid siren suddenly starts screaming.

The teacher looks panicked, as if this isn’t a drill. Maybe this is a surprise drill and she just seems caught off guard. I’ve only heard a siren going off once while I was in school, and that was for a tornado, but the weather is sunny and pleasant outside today. People are running in the hall, passing our door in a blur. We all quickly get up as the teacher preps us to go to our designated area.

That hellish squeal pulsates louder and louder when we exit the hall. Students panic for no good reason as they run to their areas. Teachers are
hurriedly talking on their phones, and security guards racing down the halls. There are so many students trying to pass each other in the tightly packed halls, I lose sight of Gabe and Juliana. I push my way through the crowd, calling out Gabe’s name, but the siren is too loud. I can’t find him anywhere.

I find a chair outside one of the classroom doors and stand on it to see if I can get a better look in the crowd, but I see no sign of Gabe or Juliana. Students are running and screaming, and I become worried, not so much from the panic, but because I lost Gabe in all this mess. Why is everyone running in a panic if this is just a surprise drill? As I turn in the direction where most of the commotion is coming from, I notice three soldiers with full body armor wearing gasmasks coming toward us.

If there is truly something to warrant this type of engagement, I’m not leaving here without Gabe or Juliana. I hurry down the hallway and side step my way through the hall, hugging the lockers with my back to avoid the lunacy of people scampering over one another.

I veer past the administrative offices and notice that it’s empty, so I dash down to the next intersection of hallways. To the right is the gymnasium, and to the left is a back door that leads to the parking lot, where two federal officers stand. I’m forced to either backtrack or go toward the gymnasium. It’s evident by the sheer panic that no one followed the rules about dismissing to their designated areas. Everyone is supposed to be sitting down by their lockers, but that’s not happening. If I know Gabe, he would have gone to a place that has more than one exit. I taught him to always leave his options open if there ever came a time he were to encounter a dangerous crisis—I guess this would be considered one.

I run to the gym as fast as I can, but it’s empty. I hustle over to the double doors that lead to the back of the men’s locker rooms where I hear a small noise. It sounds like heavy panting near the back corner of the bleachers, but I can’t make out who it is. I go behind the metal stands to get a better look and find Juliana. She’s curled up in a fetal position on the floor behind the bleachers, crying.

I rush over by her side. “Juliana, are you hurt? Was Gabe with you?” She looks like she is in shock. The only thing she can do is point to the double doors where Gabe must be. She doesn’t seem to be injured, just scared.

“Okay, stay here and don’t move, I promise I’ll be right back,” I assure her. I slowly open the doors and peek in both directions. Small drops of blood dot the floor around the corner.

I hurry around the corner and find Gabe sitting up against the wall with his hands on his face. I kneel down so I can get a better look at his face. His cheek is swollen, blood is dripping from his nose, and his clothes are soaking wet. “Gabe, are you all right? What the hell happened here?”.

“I got lost in the crowd when everyone started to run. I couldn’t find you, so I took Juliana toward the gym, thinking that maybe everyone would be gathering there, not to mention there are at least three exits that gave us options if something bad were to happen,” Gabe says with exhaustion.

“I knew you would come here, I taught you well, young Padawan,” I say, smiling.

“Yeah, well don’t flatter yourself, Obi Wan, I still got the shit beat out of me,” he says.

“Let me guess, Derrick?”

“Juliana and I were coming through the gym, and when we noticed no one else was here, we decided to go through the locker-room exits. I pushed the doors open right when Derrick was coming out. He fell backward and just stared at me. I tried to apologize, but that obviously failed. He recognized me, and he and two other guys dragged me into the showers, hosed me down, dragged me back into the hall, and punched me twice in the face. I didn’t really feel anything. My swollen head felt numb. The siren was so loud—no one could have heard anything going on in here even if there was somebody around to help. When the sirens started to wind back down, two gunshots fired, and the guys just took off and left me here,” Gabe says.

“Are you sure you heard gunshots?” I ask.

“I’m almost positive, but then again, I could have imagined it too since I was hit pretty hard in the face. Not sure why they felt the need to throw me in the shower. Was a beating not enough?” Gabe says.

“That would explain your soaked clothes,” I say, examining him. “Let me see your face. Yep, we’re going to have a hard time explaining this one to Myra.”

“Where is Juliana?” he says, concerned.

I almost forgot I left her behind the bleachers. “Come on, she’s in here,” I say as I lift him up.

When we walk back into the gym, the ear-bleeding sirens stop. Juliana is still there, crouched down under the bleachers. When she sees Gabe, she immediately gets up to help him, and I can tell there’s a special relationship building between these two.

She carefully leads him to the bathroom and begins nursing his wounds. A faint noise is coming from outside the gym that sounds like some kind of commotion, but because my ears are still ringing from that damn siren, it could be a flock of blackbirds chattering in the trees for all I know.

I peek out the back door while Gabe is being nursed. Teachers, administrators, and about a half-dozen guards and federal officers are conversing over one another. Students start to pour back into the school as the disorder dies down. My phone suddenly rings. I pull out my phone. Eight missed calls, and Myra is calling right now.

The sound of her voice is almost inaudible because she is yelling so loudly in a panic. Apparently, I never heard the phone ring with all the frenzy and noise. I explain to her that everything is okay, and that everyone is being led back into the school. I reassure her that it was probably a false alarm. The only kind of crisis that would prompt a siren to go off around the city is an attack from some overzealous anti-government group causing sheer panic and widespread looting. If this was a false alarm, someone is sure to get fired.

When I notice Juliana picking up Gabe’s pocket watch, I quickly remember to remind Myra that we will be coming home late and that we will have a ride home. I can tell by her voice that she’s not too thrilled about the idea, but I convince her anyway.

We head back to our classroom like everyone else and listen to the teachers explain that a false alarm was issued and that nothing bad has happened. I can tell by the teacher’s explanation that not even she’s convinced.

A speaker suddenly comes on and a deep voice addresses the entire school: “We sincerely apologize for this unnecessary panic. There is no real threat to worry about. This was only a false alarm. If there is any medical attention needed, we will have nursing stations set up outside the main office. We have taken the appropriate measures to ensure that this mishap will not happen in the future. Again, we apologize for any anxiety this may have caused you. Your parents will be immediately notified that everything is okay and back to normal. Thank you.”

If this was a false alarm, then why were there full body-armored soldiers with gasmasks storming the halls? These kinds of precautions make you wonder what we are preparing for.

The last bell rings, and we are finally dismissed from school. I hurry to grab Gabe out the door, but he’s too busy talking with Juliana, so I just leave them alone for a few moments. I overhear Gabe asking Juliana if she would like to come over and have dinner with us sometime.
Not that I’m eavesdropping, but by the size of Juliana’s grin and batting eyes, it appears my baby brother is starting to grow into a man.

“I hope you feel better in the morning,” Juliana says to him, as she plants a small kiss on his forehead before she leaves.

“Wow, that was fast. She thinks you’re the cat’s meow,” I say.

“Yeah, I guess getting beaten up has its perks,” he says, grinning.

After being closed up in a dark, stuffy school all day, the sun seems so bright when we go outside. I notice an unusual amount of federal officers scattered across the school grounds, roaming back and forth across the street. I guess the wailing sirens this afternoon provoked them just enough to be a little more alert, like a disturbed hornet’s nest.

We cautiously walk down the street two blocks where the old, abandoned gas station is rusting away. There are too many stations like this withering away that stretch across the nation. Oil, a once-precious commodity, has dried up because of the indifference of our political leaders. The only foreign policy that hasn’t been spoiled is our waiver of debt from China and the ever-growing relationship with Russian leaders.

Our political leaders are attempting to gain back our country’s world power and dominance through illegal arms trade with untrustworthy nations, even if it means sacrificing the needs of our very own people. It’s evil no matter how you slice it. Like my uncle used to say,
You can’t put syrup on dog shit and call it pancakes.

I’m beginning to feel a little nervous with all these vigilant officers pacing the area. Gabe shudders anxiously while we walk toward the wrecked garage. Suddenly, he stops and grabs my hand. Out of some innate suspicion, he quickly steers me to the right of the garage, behind some tall bushes growing up next to an old billboard. I’m a bit apprehensive at first, but my brother’s intuitions aren’t something to circumvent. I crouch down, peering through the cluster of leaves, wondering what it could be this time.

Within seconds, an armored car races around the corner, followed by a dozen federal officers dressed in black with gray sleeves. I’ve never seen uniforms like these before—must be a special unit, because they are each equipped with a Beretta XM37, a very lethal, light, and extremely accurate weapon at long ranges. If it’s a gun, I know it like the back of my hand, thanks to Finnegan.

As soon as they pass, we sneak around the fence to the back of the station. I peek through the broken window and thoroughly inspect the inside just to make sure we’re not going to be ambushed by vagrants.

We carefully climb through the window. The gas station looks as if it hasn’t been touched since the day it was shut down. Years of dust covers every inch of this place.