Torn Apart by Sharon Sala Page A

cough, then choke.
    Afraid he would spit it back up and waste it before he got the thing down, Newt yelled before he thought.
    “You have to take a drink of water with it! Damn it to hell, boy! Can’t you even take a fucking pill?”
    Bobby flinched. The man was angry, and he’d cursed. Still gagging, but too frightened to cough, he took a big swig of water and finally swallowed the pill.
    “Did it go down?” Newt asked.
    Bobby nodded.
    Newt smiled. “Good. You’ll feel better in no time. In fact, since we’ll be getting well together, that’ll make us buddies, right?”
    Again Bobby was afraid to argue, so he took another bite of his sandwich. But there was no mayonnaise on the bread, and the cheese was getting dry. He managed to eat a few more bites, then abandoned it for the cookie. It wasn’t a homemade cookie like Mama made, but it was sweet, and Bobby liked sweets.
    “That taste good?” Newt asked.
    Bobby shrugged.
    “What’s the matter? Can’t you talk?” Newt asked.
    “It’s not as good as Mama makes,” Bobby whispered.
    Newt frowned. Now was the time to put that devil to rest. “Yeah…about your mama…”
    Bobby’s heart thumped hard against his chest. “Is she coming to get me?”
    Newt leaned back in the chair. “No, kid, she’s not. I’m real sorry to have to tell you this, but when I was out helping with the cleanup after the storm, Chief Porter told me that your mama didn’t make it.”
    This time the heartbeat in Bobby’s chest was so hard he felt sick.
    “What do you mean?” he whispered.
    “You remember the tornado, right? The one I saved you from?”
    Bobby was watching Newt’s mouth, hearing the words and feeling like he was going to faint all over again.
    Newt went in for the kill without a qualm of conscience. “Well, your mama wasn’t as lucky. They told me that she died in the church with a whole bunch of others. Yeah…you were really lucky I found you and brought you back here, or you’d be dead, too.”
    Bobby’s breath stopped as the monster’s face blurred before his eyes. Paulie Bronson’s mama was dead. She died in a car wreck when they were in kindergarten, so he knew that kind of thing happened.
    “My mama’s dead?”
    Newt stifled a grin. This was perfect. They thought the kid had blown away in the storm, and now the kid thought his mama was dead, too. There wouldn’t be any running away now. Not when there was nowhere to go and no one to run to.
    “That’s what Chief Porter said, and he’s the police. They don’t tell lies, right?”
    Bobby’s body began to shiver. Wave after wave of panic washed through him. “But you’re the monster,” he whispered. “And monsters might tell lies.”
    Newt stifled his surprise. “Why did you call me the monster? Is it because of how I look with the burns and all?”
    “No…no…you’re the monster from the window. I saw you in the dark. I saw you, and I told my mama and daddy. My daddy went looking for you, and he’ll look for you again.”
    A sudden chill ran up Newt’s spine. The words sounded too much like a prophecy. He didn’t know the kid had recognized him and put two and two together like this. And even worse, the family had taken the boy’s story seriously enough to investigate. This drastically changed their situation. He needed to put out a few fires before this got out of hand.
    “Now look, kid…you must be mistaken. I’m just Uncle Newt, right? I saved you from the storm, and there’s no one left to take care of you but me.”
    “There’s my daddy. My daddy will take care of me. You have to tell the police to find my daddy,” Bobby whispered, then shuddered, the last of his bravado gone.
    “There, there, kid…don’t cry. Uncle Newt will take care of you. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
    The pain in Bobby’s belly moved up to his chest, expanding to such an extent that it hurt to draw breath, and still no sound came out of his mouth.
    “You gonna eat the rest of your