said.
Darren chuckled. ‘No, I probably just drank too much Coke. What’s in this stuff, anyway?’
The two of them laughed.
‘Whoa, someone’s having way too much fun in here,’ Raya said, bounding into the living room, hair still wet, but otherwise dressed and ready to go. ‘What are you boys up to so early in the morning, and can I have some?’
The reality of the news they had to share with her halted their laughter. Darren was nearly cleaved by how vulnerable she appeared, how trusting she was, how brightly she approached this mess of a world.
‘What?’ Raya said, reacting to the somber turn. ‘What’s wrong?’
Chad looked to Darren for the cue. Darren eased his way around the counter and patted Chad on the back.
‘This here’s a good man, Raya. He was looking out for you today, and for that he will always have my gratitude. Go ahead, Chad.’
Chad told her about Mrs Kavanaugh.
Darren knew from the way her skin turned ashen and her tears rolled out spontaneously, she hadn’t seen this coming. She’d been too happy this morning, and in the previous days, to have sensed such a tragedy heading toward one of her teachers.
Her hunches were just hunches, coincidence.
And thank God for that.
11
By lunchtime Adam knew he needed another mode of transport besides his own two feet. He was too small to get away with driving a car, didn’t know how to drive, or steal one. Taking the bus would have been an option if he had any money, but he’d searched his pockets and the backpack twice, finding not so much as a lucky penny. Hitchhiking was out, because he didn’t trust strangers or adults in general, and the last thing he needed was someone kidnapping him or handing him off to the cops.
He could think of only one viable option – a bicycle. The idea of a bike excited him. He believed he had owned one at some point, and loved to ride it. More than just a mechanism to get away from the things pursuing him, a bike would allow him to move faster, cover more ground, go almost anywhere he pleased.
As he walked toward the mountains, he scanned the porches and open garages, hoping to spot a bike someone had left unlocked. After he had gone two or three miles without seeing a single bike, he was preparing to give up. A few blocks later, though, he noticed a yellow road sign with the black shapes of children crossing a lane. Which meant he was close to a school, and every school had a bike rack, didn’t it?
Adam didn’t care for the idea of stealing anyone’s bike, but stealing another kid’s bike was exponentially worse. Take a kid’s bike, you are also robbing him of his mobility, his self-esteem, probably a year or more’s worth of his allowance, and ultimately his freedom. Only a truly mean scumbag of a human being would steal a kid’s bike.
On the other hand, there wasn’t much choice. Which would be worse, some kid losing his bike, or Adam being slaughtered by The Nocturnals? The way Adam saw it, if he had a bike and giving it up meant saving some poor kid’s life, well, he could live with that. He wouldn’t like it, but he could live with it. Maybe if he found a bike to steal, he’d leave a note behind explaining why, hoping the boy would forgive him.
Those people are dead. You got them killed
—
But he shut off these thoughts. They were too big for him to deal with.
He walked on, the sun warming his skin and drying out his clothes. He was not as tired as he should have been after only a couple hours of fragile sleep, but he was very hungry, and thirsty. The crackers and beef jerky were not going to get him through the day. What Adam wanted more than anything right now was breakfast, a real homemade breakfast. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, six strips of bacon, a pile of biscuits and gravy, and a chocolate shake. He could not remember his last home-cooked meal.
He followed the side streets, near some houses and past a trailer park, and he knew he was on the outskirts of Boulder. On the
Darren chuckled. ‘No, I probably just drank too much Coke. What’s in this stuff, anyway?’
The two of them laughed.
‘Whoa, someone’s having way too much fun in here,’ Raya said, bounding into the living room, hair still wet, but otherwise dressed and ready to go. ‘What are you boys up to so early in the morning, and can I have some?’
The reality of the news they had to share with her halted their laughter. Darren was nearly cleaved by how vulnerable she appeared, how trusting she was, how brightly she approached this mess of a world.
‘What?’ Raya said, reacting to the somber turn. ‘What’s wrong?’
Chad looked to Darren for the cue. Darren eased his way around the counter and patted Chad on the back.
‘This here’s a good man, Raya. He was looking out for you today, and for that he will always have my gratitude. Go ahead, Chad.’
Chad told her about Mrs Kavanaugh.
Darren knew from the way her skin turned ashen and her tears rolled out spontaneously, she hadn’t seen this coming. She’d been too happy this morning, and in the previous days, to have sensed such a tragedy heading toward one of her teachers.
Her hunches were just hunches, coincidence.
And thank God for that.
11
By lunchtime Adam knew he needed another mode of transport besides his own two feet. He was too small to get away with driving a car, didn’t know how to drive, or steal one. Taking the bus would have been an option if he had any money, but he’d searched his pockets and the backpack twice, finding not so much as a lucky penny. Hitchhiking was out, because he didn’t trust strangers or adults in general, and the last thing he needed was someone kidnapping him or handing him off to the cops.
He could think of only one viable option – a bicycle. The idea of a bike excited him. He believed he had owned one at some point, and loved to ride it. More than just a mechanism to get away from the things pursuing him, a bike would allow him to move faster, cover more ground, go almost anywhere he pleased.
As he walked toward the mountains, he scanned the porches and open garages, hoping to spot a bike someone had left unlocked. After he had gone two or three miles without seeing a single bike, he was preparing to give up. A few blocks later, though, he noticed a yellow road sign with the black shapes of children crossing a lane. Which meant he was close to a school, and every school had a bike rack, didn’t it?
Adam didn’t care for the idea of stealing anyone’s bike, but stealing another kid’s bike was exponentially worse. Take a kid’s bike, you are also robbing him of his mobility, his self-esteem, probably a year or more’s worth of his allowance, and ultimately his freedom. Only a truly mean scumbag of a human being would steal a kid’s bike.
On the other hand, there wasn’t much choice. Which would be worse, some kid losing his bike, or Adam being slaughtered by The Nocturnals? The way Adam saw it, if he had a bike and giving it up meant saving some poor kid’s life, well, he could live with that. He wouldn’t like it, but he could live with it. Maybe if he found a bike to steal, he’d leave a note behind explaining why, hoping the boy would forgive him.
Those people are dead. You got them killed
—
But he shut off these thoughts. They were too big for him to deal with.
He walked on, the sun warming his skin and drying out his clothes. He was not as tired as he should have been after only a couple hours of fragile sleep, but he was very hungry, and thirsty. The crackers and beef jerky were not going to get him through the day. What Adam wanted more than anything right now was breakfast, a real homemade breakfast. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, six strips of bacon, a pile of biscuits and gravy, and a chocolate shake. He could not remember his last home-cooked meal.
He followed the side streets, near some houses and past a trailer park, and he knew he was on the outskirts of Boulder. On the
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