Silence by Becca Fitzpatrick Page B

the police.”
    I paused, about to ask the man if he had a cell phone, when I watched with confusion as he turned to face forward, ignoring me. He cranked his window all the way up, locking himself inside the cab of the truck.
    “You have to help!” I said, rapping his window. But his forwardfixed stare didn’t waver. A little chill danced over my skin. The man wasn’t going to help. He was going to leave me out here with Gabe.
    Gabe mimicked me, knocking obnoxiously on the man’s window. “Help me!” he cried in a shrill voice. “Gabe and his friends are robbing the 7-Eleven. Oh, mister, you have to help me stop them!” When he finished, he flung his head back, choking on his own laughter.
    Almost robotically, the man in the truck looked over at us. His eyes were slightly crossed and unblinking.
    “What’s the matter with you!” I said, rattling the truck’s door handle. I smacked the window again. “Call the police!”
    The man stepped on the gas. The truck accelerated slowly, and I jogged beside it, still clinging to the hope that I could open the door. He fed the truck more gas, and I tripped over my feet to keep up. Suddenly he took off like a shot, and I was flung off into the road.
    I whirled to Gabe. “What did you do to him?”
    This.
    I flinched, hearing the word echo inside my head like a phantom presence. Gabe’s eyes blackened into hollows. His hair started visibly growing, first on top of his head, and then everywhere. It tufted out from his arms, down to the tips of his fingers, until he was covered in fur. Matted, reeking brown fur. He lumbered toward me on his hind legs, gaining height until he towered over me. He swiped his arm, and I saw a flash of claws. Then he crashed down on all fours, put his wet black nose in my face, and roared—an angry,reverberating sound. He had transformed into a grizzly bear.
    In my terror, I tripped backward and went down. I scuttled backward, blindly sweeping the roadside for a rock. Catching one in my hand, I hurled it at the bear. It hit him in the shoulder and bounced aside. I grabbed another rock, aiming for his head. The rock flew into his snout, and he snapped his head to the side, saliva trailing from his mouth. He roared again, then came at me faster than I could scramble backward.
    Using his paw, he flattened me against the pavement. He was pushing too hard; my ribs creaked in pain.
    “Stop!”
I tried to shove his paw off, but he was much too strong. I didn’t know if he could hear me. Or understand. I didn’t know if any part of Gabe was left inside the bear. Never before in my life had I witnessed anything so inexplicably horrifying.
    The wind picked up, tangling my hair across my face. Through it, I watched the wind carry off the bear’s fur. Little tufts of it drifted up into the night. When I looked again, it was Gabe leaning over me. His sadistic grin implied,
You’re my puppet. And don’t you forget it.
    I wasn’t sure which terrified me more: Gabe or the bear.
    “Up you go,” he said, hoisting me to my feet.
    He propelled me back along the road until the lights of 7-Eleven came into view. My mind staggered. Had he—hypnotized me? Made me believe he’d turned himself into a bear? Was there any other explanation? I knew I had to get out of here and call for help, but I hadn’t come up with the
how
yet.
    We rounded the building to the alley, where the others were congregated.
    Two were dressed in street clothes, similar to Gabe’s. The third was wearing a lime-green polo with 7- ELEVEN and the name B.J . embroidered on the pocket.
    B.J. was on his knees, clutching his ribs, moaning inconsolably. His eyes were squeezed shut, and saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth. One of Gabe’s friends—he wore an oversize gray hoodie—stood over B.J. with a tire iron, raised and ready to swing, presumably again.
    My mouth went dry, and my legs seemed to be made of straw. I couldn’t unglue my eyes from the dark red stain seeping