The Dark Ones by Bryan Smith Page B

of a penis. “This is just the opening salvo in a war, my friend. I’m gonna talk to Moose tomorrow—”
    Brett groaned. “Oh, man . . .”
    “I know, I know. He’s a Neanderthal.”
    “That’s an insult to Neanderthals.”
    “I know, okay? But Moose likes me. He’s always laughing like a goddamn hyena at every little thing I say. Point is, I may not have fists of steel . . . but I know people who do.”
    Kent took a step back to admire his handiwork. The red spray paint against the car’s faded black paint job would be hard to miss in daylight. The thought of Mark having to drive the old heap to school with FAG painted in big bold letters on the door made him crack a grin. But the grin faltered as he had an annoying thought.
    He’ll probably just skip .
    Fuck it. It didn’t matter.
    This is just the opening salvo .
    Every righteous struggle needs a leader and Kent knew he was the only student at Ransom High up to the task. The defacing of Mark Bell’s car proved that. A good general knows when the time has come to meet the enemy on his own turf and terms. This was a shining example. He’d come out late at night, just like them. Had committed a petty criminal act, just like them. Things so out of character they would shock anyone who knew him.
    Brett clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get gone before they get back.”
    Kent shrugged the hand away. “Not yet. There’s more work to do.”
    Brett groaned again. “Are you serious?”
    “Dead serious. Do you know where Natasha Wagner lives?”

N INETEEN

    The musty living room was fully furnished. Mark aimed the Maglite’s beam at a long sofa and stepped farther into the room. Natasha stayed right beside him, clutching loosely at his left arm. The hardwood floor groaned as they moved, sagging a little with each step. This place had been closed up a long time. It was possible the wood beneath their feet was rotted to a dangerous degree. There could be extensive termite damage. But it was holding up so far and he wasn’t about to be the one to suggest they abandon this expedition over safety concerns. Everyone else seemed cool with the risk, so what the hell.
    Mark shifted the arc of the flashlight’s beam, revealing more of the room’s interior. There were end tables to either side of the sofa. A lamp sat atop the one nearest them. Natasha let go of his arm and reached under the lampshade to turn the switch. Nothing happened, of course.
    Fiona arched an eyebrow. “Did you really expect that to come on?”
    Natasha shrugged. “No. But I thought of it and just had to try it.”
    “Like Mount Everest, it was there?”
    “Yep.”
    Mark turned away from them and spied a dark shape sitting opposite the sofa. He pointed the flashlight at it and saw an old-fashioned television atop a wooden swivel stand. A set of rabbit-ear antennas sat perched on top of it. A plate affixed to the wood just beneath the screen revealed the brand name—Admiral. Taking a cue from Natasha, he pushed the Power button. Nothing happened. It was there. He did it. The old television was sort of cool. Other than the coating of dust, it looked pristine. It could have been a museum piece. He considered returning in daylight to haul it out of here.
    Natasha nudged him. “Why do you think all this stuff was left behind?”
    “I don’t know.” He turned away from the television and aimed the beam against the far wall. The light revealed a large rolltop desk with its top down. “It’s weird. All this stuff must have been pretty valuable when the place was abandoned.”
    Fiona laughed. “Shit, it’s valuable now . We should come back during the day sometime and see what we can scavenge. Haul all this shit out to a pawnshop.”
    Mark found the idea initially tempting, but something about it didn’t feel quite right. It felt sort of like grave robbing. And there was something else. Something sort of crazy. He felt like something was watching him. Something other than his