Gone
Page 43
“This isn’t your business,” Chaz said. “We’re dealing with something here.”
“Dealing with what? Orc, did you hit Bette?”
“She was breaking the rules,” Orc said.
“You hit a girl, man?” Edilio said, outraged.
“Shut up, wetback,” Orc said.
“Where’s Howard?” Sam asked, just to stall while he tried to figure out what to do. He’d lost one fight to Orc already.
Orc took the question as an insult. “I don’t need Howard to handle you, Sam.”
Orc marched right up to Sam, stopped a foot away, and put his bat on his shoulder like he was ready to swing for a home run. Like a batter ready for the next fastball. Only this was closer to T-ball: Sam’s head was impossible to miss.
“Move, Sam,” Orc ordered.
“Okay, I’m not doing this again,” Quinn said. “Let him have her, Sam.”
“Ain’t no ‘let me,’” Orc said. “I do what I want.”
Sam noticed movement behind Orc. There were people coming down the street, twenty or more kids. Orc noticed it too, and glanced behind him.
“They aren’t going to save you,” Orc said, and swung the bat hard.
Sam ducked. The bat whooshed past his head, and Orc rotated halfway around, carried forward by the momentum.
Sam was thrown off balance, but Edilio was ready. He let loose a roar and plowed headfirst into Orc. Edilio was maybe half Orc’s size, but Orc was knocked off his feet. He sprawled out on the concrete.
Chaz went after Edilio, trying to pull him off Orc.
The crowd of kids who had come running down the street surged forward. There were angry voices and threats, all aimed at Orc.
They yelled, Sam noted, but no one exactly jumped into the unequal fight.
A voice cut through all the noise.
“Nobody move,” Drake said.
Orc pushed Edilio off and jumped to his feet. He started kicking Edilio, landing size-eleven Nike blows into Edilio’s defensive arms. Sam jumped in to help his friend, but Drake was quicker. He stepped behind Orc, grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and smashed his elbow into Orc’s face.
Blood poured from Orc’s nose, and he howled in rage.
Drake hit him again and released Orc to fall to the concrete.
“Which part of ‘nobody move’ did you not understand, Orc?” Drake demanded.
Orc rose to his knee and went for Drake like a linebacker. Drake stepped aside, nimble as a matador. He stuck his hand out and said to Chaz, “Give me that.”
Chaz handed him the bat.
Drake hit Orc in the ribs with a short, sharp forward thrust of the bat. Then again in the kidneys and again in the side of the head. Each blow was measured, accurate, effective.
Orc rolled over onto his back, helpless, exposed.
Drake pushed the thick end of the bat against Orc’s throat. “Dude. You really need to learn to listen when I talk.”
Then Drake laughed, stepped back, twirled the bat in the air, caught it, and rested it on his shoulder. He grinned at Sam.
“Now, how about you tell me what’s going on, Mr. Fire Chief.”
Sam had gone up against bullies before. But he’d never seen anything like Drake Merwin. Orc outweighed Drake by at least fifty pounds, but Drake had handled him like a little toy action figure.
Sam pointed at Bette, still cowering. “I think Orc hit her.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So I wasn’t going to let him do it again,” Sam said as calmly as he could.
“It didn’t look to me like you were getting ready to rescue anyone. Looked to me like you were about to get your head knocked off your shoulders,” Drake said.
“Bette wasn’t doing anything wrong,” a shrill young voice from the crowd yelled.
Without looking back, Drake said, “Shut up.” He pointed at Chaz. “You. Explain what this is about.”
Chaz was an athletic-looking kid with nearly shoulder-length blond hair and trendy glasses. He was wearing the Coates uniform, dirty and rumpled after many days’ use. “That girl was doing something.” He pointed at Bette. “She was using the power.”
Sam felt a cold chill run up his spine.
The power, he had said. Like it was just something you mentioned in casual conversation. Like it was a common thing everyone knew about.
Drake smirked. “Why, whatever can you possibly mean, Chaz?” The way he said it was an unmistakable threat.
“Nothing,” Chaz said quickly.
“She was doing a magic trick,” a voice yelled. “She wasn’t hurting anyone.”
“I told her to stop.” Orc was on his feet again, glaring with undisguised hatred, but also some wariness, at Drake.
“Orc is a deputy sheriff,” Drake said reasonably. “So when he tells someone to stop doing something wrong, they have to stop. If this girl refused to obey, hey, I guess she got what she deserved.”
“You don’t have the right to beat on people,” Sam said.
Drake had a shark’s grin: too many teeth, too little humor. “Someone has to make people listen to the rules. Right?”
“There are rules against doing magic tricks?” Edilio asked.
“Yes,” Drake said. “But I guess some people didn’t know that. Chaz? Give the fire chief the latest copy of the rules.”
Sam accepted a crumpled, folded piece of paper without looking at it.
“There you go,” Drake said. “Now you know the rules.”
“Dealing with what? Orc, did you hit Bette?”
“She was breaking the rules,” Orc said.
“You hit a girl, man?” Edilio said, outraged.
“Shut up, wetback,” Orc said.
“Where’s Howard?” Sam asked, just to stall while he tried to figure out what to do. He’d lost one fight to Orc already.
Orc took the question as an insult. “I don’t need Howard to handle you, Sam.”
Orc marched right up to Sam, stopped a foot away, and put his bat on his shoulder like he was ready to swing for a home run. Like a batter ready for the next fastball. Only this was closer to T-ball: Sam’s head was impossible to miss.
“Move, Sam,” Orc ordered.
“Okay, I’m not doing this again,” Quinn said. “Let him have her, Sam.”
“Ain’t no ‘let me,’” Orc said. “I do what I want.”
Sam noticed movement behind Orc. There were people coming down the street, twenty or more kids. Orc noticed it too, and glanced behind him.
“They aren’t going to save you,” Orc said, and swung the bat hard.
Sam ducked. The bat whooshed past his head, and Orc rotated halfway around, carried forward by the momentum.
Sam was thrown off balance, but Edilio was ready. He let loose a roar and plowed headfirst into Orc. Edilio was maybe half Orc’s size, but Orc was knocked off his feet. He sprawled out on the concrete.
Chaz went after Edilio, trying to pull him off Orc.
The crowd of kids who had come running down the street surged forward. There were angry voices and threats, all aimed at Orc.
They yelled, Sam noted, but no one exactly jumped into the unequal fight.
A voice cut through all the noise.
“Nobody move,” Drake said.
Orc pushed Edilio off and jumped to his feet. He started kicking Edilio, landing size-eleven Nike blows into Edilio’s defensive arms. Sam jumped in to help his friend, but Drake was quicker. He stepped behind Orc, grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and smashed his elbow into Orc’s face.
Blood poured from Orc’s nose, and he howled in rage.
Drake hit him again and released Orc to fall to the concrete.
“Which part of ‘nobody move’ did you not understand, Orc?” Drake demanded.
Orc rose to his knee and went for Drake like a linebacker. Drake stepped aside, nimble as a matador. He stuck his hand out and said to Chaz, “Give me that.”
Chaz handed him the bat.
Drake hit Orc in the ribs with a short, sharp forward thrust of the bat. Then again in the kidneys and again in the side of the head. Each blow was measured, accurate, effective.
Orc rolled over onto his back, helpless, exposed.
Drake pushed the thick end of the bat against Orc’s throat. “Dude. You really need to learn to listen when I talk.”
Then Drake laughed, stepped back, twirled the bat in the air, caught it, and rested it on his shoulder. He grinned at Sam.
“Now, how about you tell me what’s going on, Mr. Fire Chief.”
Sam had gone up against bullies before. But he’d never seen anything like Drake Merwin. Orc outweighed Drake by at least fifty pounds, but Drake had handled him like a little toy action figure.
Sam pointed at Bette, still cowering. “I think Orc hit her.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So I wasn’t going to let him do it again,” Sam said as calmly as he could.
“It didn’t look to me like you were getting ready to rescue anyone. Looked to me like you were about to get your head knocked off your shoulders,” Drake said.
“Bette wasn’t doing anything wrong,” a shrill young voice from the crowd yelled.
Without looking back, Drake said, “Shut up.” He pointed at Chaz. “You. Explain what this is about.”
Chaz was an athletic-looking kid with nearly shoulder-length blond hair and trendy glasses. He was wearing the Coates uniform, dirty and rumpled after many days’ use. “That girl was doing something.” He pointed at Bette. “She was using the power.”
Sam felt a cold chill run up his spine.
The power, he had said. Like it was just something you mentioned in casual conversation. Like it was a common thing everyone knew about.
Drake smirked. “Why, whatever can you possibly mean, Chaz?” The way he said it was an unmistakable threat.
“Nothing,” Chaz said quickly.
“She was doing a magic trick,” a voice yelled. “She wasn’t hurting anyone.”
“I told her to stop.” Orc was on his feet again, glaring with undisguised hatred, but also some wariness, at Drake.
“Orc is a deputy sheriff,” Drake said reasonably. “So when he tells someone to stop doing something wrong, they have to stop. If this girl refused to obey, hey, I guess she got what she deserved.”
“You don’t have the right to beat on people,” Sam said.
Drake had a shark’s grin: too many teeth, too little humor. “Someone has to make people listen to the rules. Right?”
“There are rules against doing magic tricks?” Edilio asked.
“Yes,” Drake said. “But I guess some people didn’t know that. Chaz? Give the fire chief the latest copy of the rules.”
Sam accepted a crumpled, folded piece of paper without looking at it.
“There you go,” Drake said. “Now you know the rules.”
