WORLD WAR 2.1 by Mark McCann

Author:Mark McCann [McCann, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

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On the other side of the room, the group of adolescents had congregated to finish their watery bowls of stew and quietly talk among themselves. They sat on the dusty floor and occasionally glanced over at Scott as he sat talking with the girl and drinking from what appeared to be a soda bottle.

“So just like that we’re all friends now?” Dwayne said suspiciously.

“Guess so,” said John. He was still holding the wine bottle, and his slightly-slurred words made everyone wonder just how much of it he had to drink. He up-ended the vessel for another swig.

Dwayne only shook his head and made a sucking sound with his teeth. “And he gets a Coke. Why does pale male get a Coke? Like he’s our leader or something.”

“Must be some of that white privilege everyone’s talking about,” John said, giving him a wink. He held out the bottle of wine for Dewayne. “Here, we got the better bottle anyway.”

Dewayne only turned away. “Get that away from me, man. Did your mom and dad meet at a family reunion or something?”

John had a mouthful of wine but snickered at the comment, which made the rosy red liquid dribble out the side of his mouth. He wiped it away and whispered, “In case you didn’t notice, BLM… you weren’t the only one tied up or who didn’t get a Coke. So just do us all a favor, and stop tossing out the race card like it’s an ace in a poker game, okay?”

Dewayne only shook his head. “I’m not even going to waste my time with you. You’re a special kind of retarded, you know that?”

Adam’s head suddenly rose up, his face looking wounded. “Hey… the term is ‘mentally handicapped.’ Which my brother happens to be.”

Dewayne shrugged apologetically. “No disrespect. I just meant banjo boy here is a unique blend of Ozark inbred.”

Toni, who had been sitting with her arms drawn tightly across her chest as she eyed both Marie and Marcel with contempt, suddenly chimed in. “Apparently, respect is something that doesn’t exist in this century.”

“Awww,” John said with mock sympathy. “What’s the matter, Princess Prissy? You still mad about getting smacked around a little?”

She glared at him indignantly. “You’re a pig, you know that?”

“Penis envy much?” he smiled back.

“Will you just shut up?” she growled. “Nobody cares what your drunk ass has to say.”

John only grinned. “Probably not… but just remember. When the fit hit the shan, only one of us was shootin’ back. I didn’t see anyone running for cover behind the feminist.” He held up the bottle, toasted her, and took another swig.

“We wouldn’t have needed to shoot back at all,” Adam pointed out, “if a certain somebody’s cell phone hadn’t gone off. What I want to know is how the thing’s even working here.”

The others looked at him, as though they hadn’t considered that before. How the heck was his phone working, anyway?

“Must be a hell of a signal, yo,” Ryan said.

“Yeah,” agreed John. “I wanna know who his carrier is, because I’m switching as soon as we get back.

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