Part 15 (2/2)
Anna's hands curled into fists. Russ and I stepped in before the situation spiraled out of control. I didn't know Anna, but I knew Cranston well enough to realize that this wasn't normal behavior for him. I glanced at the darkness, then back to him. The blackness seemed to s.h.i.+ne in his eyes. Then Cranston moved his head and I realized that it was just an illusion-a trick of the light.
Except there was no light.
”Come on, guys,” I urged. ”Let's focus on what we came here for. This isn't helping anybody.”
”I'm sorry, Robbie,” Cranston said. ”You're right. But she started it.”
”And I'll d.a.m.n well finish it, too.”
”Enough,” Russ shouted, pulling Anna away from Cranston. ”Knock it the h.e.l.l off, both of you!”
”Get your paws off me!”
Before Russ could react, Anna hauled back and slapped him openhanded across the face. It was loud-like the crack of a bat hitting a baseball. The dogs howled at the commotion, straining at their leashes and jumping into the air. Drew and Clay cursed, trying to control them. Russ's flashlight tumbled from his hand and rolled across the ground. For a moment, Anna's handprint stood out stark white against his cheek. Then it turned red. Russ stood there, hands at his sides, mouth open. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. The look in his eyes said it all.
”I warned you,” Anna said. ”n.o.body touches me like-”
Russ punched her square in the mouth. He moved so quickly that at first, I didn't realize what had happened. One moment he was standing there. The next, he was swinging. He threw all his weight into the blow, his entire body moving in tandem with his fist. Teeth and blood flew through the air. Shrieking, Anna stumbled backward. Her hands fluttered to her ruined lips. Blood spurted from between her fingers. Russ examined his still-clenched fist. A broken shard from one of her teeth jutted from his knuckle. Wincing, he pulled it out and stepped toward her. Blood welled up in the wound and dribbled across his fingers.
”d.a.m.n,” Stan the Man murmured. ”Homeboy just smacked that old b.i.t.c.h right in the mouth.”
”Word,” Mad Mike added. ”That's some cold-a.s.s s.h.i.+t right there.”
The rest of T's group nodded in agreement. I resisted the urge to shoot the teens. Apparently, Drew felt the urge, too, because he pulled his pistol out of his wais-tband. It had been hidden beneath his flannel s.h.i.+rt. But instead of pointing it at T's crew, he aimed it with one hand, alternating between Russ and Anna. The barrel bobbed up and down in tandem with his shaking hands. Drew's eyes were narrowed. His lips were pressed together in a tight grimace. Clay stared at us, wide-eyed, trying to control the black-and-tan, whose howls had turned to growls. Drew's aim returned to Russ. He seemed to have forgotten all about the dogs. He held the beagles' leashes in one hand, and the dogs strained the leads to their limit.
”Hey!” I yanked out my own handgun and pointed it at Drew. ”What the h.e.l.l are you doing? Put that away, man. The f.u.c.k is wrong with you?”
With one hand clutching her face, Anna grabbed her knife. The blade shone in Olivia's flashlight beam.
”Ya'll get ready to jet,” T muttered to his friends. ”s.h.i.+t's about to go down hard.”
”That's not going to help you,” Russ told Anna, nodding at her knife.
He reached behind him and produced his gun. Anna whimpered, and her eyes widened. Russ grinned.
”Jesus,” Clevon gasped. ”Oh, Jesus Christ...”
”Shoot her, man,” Cranston moaned. ”We don't need her kind around here. Especially not now. She's part of the problem.”
”n.o.body is shooting anybody,” I yelled. ”Let's all calm the h.e.l.l down. Right f.u.c.king now.”
”Stop it, please,” Olivia cried. ”What are you doing?”
”s.h.i.+t is whack,” T observed.
I ignored them both. ”Put it away, Drew. Come on, dude. There's no need for this.”
Drew's aim turned to me. ”Put yours away first.”
”Like h.e.l.l I will.”
”Your choice, Robbie.” His aim didn't waver. His hands no longer shook. The barrel of his gun looked very large and round, and it was full of darkness.
”Stop it,” Olivia screamed again. ”What is wrong with you people?”
”YO!”
We all turned. T stared at us with an expression of bewildered amus.e.m.e.nt. He shook his head and smiled.
”Every one of you motherf.u.c.kers are tripping. Ain't none of you remember what we said before? It's that stuff out there-the motherf.u.c.king dark. It's f.u.c.king with your heads, ya'll. Know what I'm saying? It wants us to do this s.h.i.+t. It wants us to kill each other. s.h.i.+t ain't right.”
”Word,” Mario agreed. ”s.h.i.+t is f.u.c.king seriously whacked.”
We all stared at them in stunned silence. Then Clay said, ”Do any of you boys speak English?”
”We are speaking English, dog,” T said. ”You just ain't listening. Now let's get this s.h.i.+t over with. The darkness is f.u.c.king with us. I say we f.u.c.k it right back.”
”He's right,” I said, and lowered my gun. After a moment, Drew did the same. Russ hesitated, eyeing Anna suspiciously. Then he put his pistol away as well and retrieved his flashlight.
”Sorry,” he muttered, but it was unclear who he was apologizing to.
Clutching his stomach, Clevon turned away and vomited his candy bar into the weeds. Everyone stepped away from him. Mad Mike wrinkled his nose in disgust.
”Anna?” I stepped toward her, my hands outstretched to show that they were empty. ”Put the knife away.”
She glared at me with tears in her eyes. Blood streamed down her forearms. It looked strange in the dim light. Suddenly, Anna turned and fled back toward the strip mall.
”You'll all be sorry,” she shrieked. ”Mark my words. You'll be sorry!”
Olivia called after her to come back, but Cranston told the teacher to let her go.
”It's better anyway,” Clay said. ”Before we were unlucky thirteen. Now we're an even dozen.”
”Not if you count them dogs,” Irish pointed out.
Clay shrugged. ”They're just dogs...dog. Did I say that right?”
T's friends laughed as if this was the funniest thing in the world.
”You learning,” Irish said. ”There might be hope for you yet, dog dog.”
Clay grinned, then spat another stream of tobacco juice. The dogs continued baying.
”Can't you shut them up?” Russ asked. ”They're making my head hurt.”
”I thought they were just worked up over your fight,” Drew explained, ”but something else must have them spooked. Their bark is different, too. Don't sound like they do when they're tracking a rabbit.”
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