back?” Gordie asked.
Allie cupped her hands to the window and peered in. “Let’s see if there’s–”
Twenty feet away, one of the gym’s windows exploded and glass rained down onto the carpet inside. The crowd roared and weapons went up.
Gordie mouthed something under his breath.
A smile worked its way onto Raj’s face. “This is about to get ugly.”
The deadbolt scraped, and the door crashed open. The look on Drac’s face was panic and venom, probably the first time in his life he wanted to destroy someone but couldn’t. He fumbled through his belt pack and pulled out a wad of cash. Stepping forward with his hand out, he shook the bills at me. I tugged at the cash with my good hand, and he tightened his grip, drilling me with narrowed eyes and tilting his head sideways at me.
I pulled harder, freeing the bills from his hand. “And our wallets.”
Reaching into his belt pack again, he grabbed three wallets and tossed them onto the sidewalk. Raj picked them up with one hand and flipped him off with the other. It was a solid move – nothing in the USSC Charter banned the use of the middle finger.
Gordie scanned his paper and looked up. “If you threaten any member of the USSC, you will not be given another warning.”
Drac’s brow wrinkled. “Dank you. Have nice day.” He stepped into the gym and pushed the door closed. The lock rattled and a pair of eyes peered through the gap between the blinds.
If I’d imagined how I wanted this to go, it’d have looked exactly like it did at this moment. I turned to the crowd and raised both hands high. The entire street went wild, erupting into a roar of cheers and whistles. Allie gave a playful smile, and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed my lips to hers. Every time we kissed, I felt connected with my place in the world. I was invincible. She pulled me closer and we kissed again.
Gordie and Raj high-fived each other over and over, each time smacking their hands harder, until Gordie tipped sideways on his crutches and Raj caught him.
Even after all that’d happened, I couldn’t bring myself to regret a thing. Good things come out of bad situations. Allie and I were together, and I was president of a big badass street gang. Someone once said you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know that when someone messes with you, the only bad move is no move at all. Nobody gets to define anyone, and having the guts to stand my ground changed everything for me. Having conviction in yourself, the kind where you don’t give a damn what people think, radiates like an energy and changes the way people see you – and the way you see the world. Your enemies will never know you, but your friends are your friends because of who you are. My friends meant everything to me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them, but I hoped they knew.
Raj gripped his stomach. “So how ‘bout that chili pizza?”
“Later,” Allie said. “We have to go get the guitar back.”
“Forget it. The guy at Cash Kingdom won’t give it up for less than four times what he paid.”
“He’ll reconsider when I tell him he’s selling stolen government property.” She looked over her shoulder. “And if that doesn’t work, several hundred of our new friends might persuade him.”
“Allie!” Gordie said. “You can’t do that.”
She smiled.
29. Set the Dark Afire
Three Months Later
The sun shined bright and warm through Allie’s bedroom window. On her dresser table, her cow-shaped alarm clock stared at me disapprovingly. 8:19 a.m.
I ran my fingers through Allie’s hair. “When do your parents get back from Australia?”
Her lips brushed my ear. “Thursday, and until then you’re all mine.” She gave a teasing smile as she lifted the sheet and climbed out of bed in her underwear. In some strange way, the smell of her fresh linen added to the sense of security I was only just becoming used to. She padded in bare feet to the closet, her hips swaying and her hair spilling over her shoulders. I’d never understand how she didn’t seem to realize how beautiful she was. She slipped into a bra and sweater and wiggled into a skirt. “Come on, lazy bum. He’ll be on in a minute.”
Shifting to the edge of the bed, I stepped into my crumpled jeans from yesterday and threw on my shirt and hoodie. Allie walked into the kitchen, humming softly. After living alone with my boozer old man for three years, sharing a house and a bed with Allie was living the life of a king. I moved to the living room and collapsed onto the couch with the remote. The TV lit up and a leathery-skinned woman in tight spandex appeared on the screen. Her bony flesh radiated with orange spray-tan as she powered her way through a set of leg lifts.
Allie handed me a coffee and grinned. “Oh, is that what you’re into?”
“You got me. I’m a sucker for… that.”
The TV switched to a close up of Cybil Vanderbilt, host of Wake up America. “Thanks for those bun-firming tips, Francine.” Cybil adjusted her glasses and put on her serious reporter face. “Now onto a disturbing story. Many of our viewers will be aware of a growing phenomenon in our nation’s schools. In only three months, what is known as the United Students Security Council, or USSC for short, has begun operating in more than seven hundred schools across the country.”
Allie sipped her coffee. “Nine hundred actually.” She wasn’t wrong. At a hundred and eighty thousand members, the USSC had grown into one of the biggest gangs that had ever existed.
The TV went to a shot of Gordie sitting next to Cybil. She glanced at her notes, pressing her perfectly lipsticked lips firmly together. “Joining me in the studio is USSC Spokesperson, Gordon Radford.”
Gordie smiled politely, like he’d been practicing before his big TV appearance. “Good morning, Cybil.”
“Let’s begin with Detroit Police Chief Jack Swindon referring to the USSC as a highly dangerous criminal element. I understand he’s seeking to press vigilantism charges against you and two other leaders of the USSC, Chris Maddox and Allie Brookes.”
Allie raised her hand, and I high-fived it.
Cybil checked her notes. “He also claims the USSC is linked to terrorist organizations. Are these allegations true?”
Allie curled her feet under my legs and rested her head on my chest. “Same old, same old.”
Gordie straightened in his chair. “The USSC has been accused of a lot of things that aren’t true. Chief Swindon needs to stop with the conspiracy theories.”
Cybil tilted her head at him, her gold earrings reflecting the stage lights. “But are you concerned that he may press charges?”
“The Justice Department’s gathering evidence. No organization is perfect, but they won’t find anything of substance.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I understand Chief Swindon’s son, Kyle, no longer attends school because of the USSC. Is that correct?”
“The USSC stood up to Kyle’s violence when nobody else would, but it was Kyle’s choice to drop out. There’s nothing stopping him from going back to school – hell, he can join the USSC for all I care.”
Cybil turned to the camera. “How about we let our viewers decide.” A wobbly, grainy video appeared on the screen showing three guys in Wolverines jackets in a brawl. “This disturbing footage was taken on amateur cell phone. It shows the brutal attack on Kyle Swindon and his friends three months ago by members of the USSC. This was Kyle’s final day of school.” The video panned to me lying on the ground, my face bleeding and Allie leaning over me.
Allie sat up straight and pointed at the TV. “Our first kiss! I didn’t know there was a video.” She craned her neck and kissed my cheek. I rubbed the inch-long scar on my palm. Kyle’s name had hardly been spoken since he dropped out. It felt strange to hear it again.
The picture on the TV cut back to the studio, and Cybil took off her glasses. “Does the USSC condone this kind of violence?”
Gordie leaned back in his seat, relaxed and confident like he’d been doing this all his life. “What happened
in that footage was the result of repeated attempts to stop Kyle from hurting people. What you saw doesn’t even compare to how his victims suffered…” His brow wrinkled and his gaze fell. “Not even close.”
Cybil paused to read her notes. “The National PTA released a statement saying there’s simply no excuse for the violence being perpetrated by the USSC.”
Gordie raised his index finger. “Our figures show the USSC has decreased violence in schools across the country. Let me ask you this: would you go to work every day knowing you’d be punched, kicked, or even stabbed?”
Cybil pushed her glasses up her nose. “This isn’t about me.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. So why are teenagers expected to? I’ll tell you why. It’s because parents, teachers, police, and the Government have decided that bullying is an unsolvable problem.” He looked into the camera. “The USSC has solved bullying, and our members refuse to be bullied anymore.”
“By becoming bullies?”
“If someone chooses to hurt one of our members, and ignores our warning, they can expect to get hurt.”
Cybil put her glasses on. “But experts agree that telling a responsible adult is the most effective approach to dealing with a bully. In fact, it’s fundamental to how civilized society operates in–”
“In the wrong situation, telling a responsible adult can get your ass kicked even harder. Adults can’t protect everyone all the time – and it’s a dangerous lie to say they can.”
Cybil paused for a moment. “So what about good old fashioned standing up for yourself? We didn’t need gangs in my day.”
“There were gangs in your day for exactly that reason, but you’re oversimplifying it.” Gordie leaned back and tapped the arm of his chair. “Bullies choose their victims carefully – they don’t take risks. They pick on the smaller kid… the weaker kid. The USSC is about leveling the playing field and giving real protection to nearly two hundred thousand teenagers across the country. Standing up for yourself might get you a stay in hospital, but it doesn’t solve anything. Trust me.”
Cybil’s eyes narrowed. “Have you even stopped to think about the lives you’re ruining? Take Kyle Swindon, a bright student with lots of potential who might end up on welfare for the rest of his life because of the USSC.”
Allie rested her head on my chest. “If Kyle’s bright, I’m a star midfielder for the Detroit Lions.”
Gordie’s face screwed up like he’d just tasted something disgusting. “The USSC hasn’t ruined anyone’s life. Kyle Swindon hasn’t bothered anyone since that footage was taken. In the prison system that’s called rehabilitation, and that’s where these bullies end up if they’re not held accountable for their actions. Kyle should be grateful it didn’t happen to him.”
Cybil sucked in her cheeks, like a fish doing a model pose. “You don’t seem to get it, Gordon. The USSC is supposed to be against violence, but instead it’s perpetrating it. Don’t you see the hypocrisy?”
“There’s no hypocrisy. Students must be allowed to take reasonable steps to ensure their safety. You’re allowed to own a gun to protect yourself from intruders, right? How is this different? Besides, all we’re doing is following the United Nations model.”
Cybil lifted her pen and flashed a well-practiced thoughtful expression at the camera. “But the United Nations is different. They’re trained professionals.”
“It has nothing to do with training. It’s about social responsibility – taking care of each other. That applies to everyone, young and old, trained professional or not. The USSC is bringing necessary change because nobody else did.”
Cybil traced her right eyebrow with her fingertip and sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree with you. Violence is simply not the answer.”
“You’re right. Violence isn’t the answer.” Gordie lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “It’s what happens when we don’t look after each other.”
She tapped her pen on her notebook. “So how often does the USSC engage in violence?”
Gordie took a deep breath, looking like he was close to losing his cool. “The USSC always tries to resolve conflict without force. Once any USSC chapter gains a few senior students, violence drops off because bullies know they’re outnumbered. If a bully doesn’t get the message, we’ll take steps to ensure they do.”
Cybil opened her mouth to speak, but Gordie raised his hand and said, “But it’s not about that. It’s about establishing communities in schools, providing mentors, and a grassroots framework that students can use to support themselves. It’s interesting, don’t you think? What started as social networking has become the tool of social change?”
“But there’s so much potential for that power to be abused. And for people to get hurt.”
Gordie gave a frustrated smile. “That’s why the USSC has a charter. Any organization that has power also has the power to abuse it, but having a charter mitigates that risk. Should we disband the American Government because the President might abuse power?”
The camera changed to a close up of Cybil frowning. “A despicable act of cruelty on a police chief’s son. Is it organized gang warfare, or just teenage vigilantism? I’ll let you judge what–”
Gordie leaned into view. “Or is it just organized teenagers?”
Cybil nudged him back into his seat. “Coming up next: How to look ten years younger.”
Gordie’s voice spoke from off screen. “That’s a despicable act of cruelty to your viewers.”
Allie smiled and lifted the remote. “We better get to school.”
Somewhere in the yard next door, a dog barked and growled. Allie slipped into her boots and grabbed her handbag from the counter. Sipping the last of my coffee, I pulled my sneakers onto my feet and followed her to the door.
Outside, a light breeze carried the smell of freshly cut lawn. The blossoms were out and warm sunlight poured through a patch of perfect blue sky. Allie leapt off the step and skipped down the path to a bed of daffodils. Kneeling, she picked one and slipped it into her hair, and gave me a crooked smile. “Pretty?” The sun sparkled in her hair like diamonds.
“You're so beautiful, Allie, but somehow that's the least interesting thing about you.”
She frowned.
“I mean… I didn't mean–”
She smiled again and pressed her lips to mine. On a nearby power line, two crows squawked and flapped their wings. Her smile turned to confusion and her gaze drifted behind me. And she gave a shuddering gasp.
Behind Allie’s Ford Escort, Kyle stood clutching a three-foot-long steel chain, his face half hidden in the shadow of a hoodie. He glanced over his shoulder. On the other side of the yard, Drac stepped out from behind a tree, his huge arms bulging and his fingers wrapped tight around a length of steel pipe.
Allie squeezed my hand.
30. From Here to Eternity
Allie pulled the daffodil from her hair and stepped back. Drac and Kyle started toward us, closing in from both directions.
Allie screamed.
Nearly falling over each other, we sprinted for the house, and they followed at a steady pace, eyes locked on us. Hands shaking, Allie jabbed her key into the lock and threw the door open. We scrambled inside and slammed it shut. I turned the deadbolt and it clunked into place.
Silence.
With my ear to the door, I held my breath and listened. Still nothing. “Call 911 and stay with me.” She followed me into the hall as she reached into her handbag. I darted into the laundry and grasped the back door’s handle. Locked. “And tell the USSC. Let’s get a couple of thousand people here.”
She held the phone to her mouth and followed me back into the hall. “Police… Two men are outside my house… Yes, they’re armed.”
I raced into the living room and tugged on the sliding door. Locked.
She rushed up behind me. “Thirty-two Cedar Grove Avenue, Royal Oak.”
Back through the hall toward the kitchen. I shook the courtyard door. Locked.
“No, no guns… One has a chain and the other has a pipe thing… Yes, a pipe.”
I leaned over the counter and pulled two knives from the block. “If they get in, use this.” I handed her the longer blade and gripped the handle of a carving knife.
Allie blinked back tears and nodded. Holding the phone to her ear and her handbag under her arm, she clutched the knife. “Soon? What do you mean ‘soon’?”
With my hand on her back, I guided her to the front door.
“Fifteen minutes? We need cops now!”
I put my ear to the door.
Still silence.
Tears ran from Allie’s wide, round eyes. I pulled aside the curtain and scanned the yard. Empty. She wiped her cheeks and looked at me. Holding my breath, I listened. The only sound was the soft murmur of the 911 operator’s voice. Allie lowered her phone from her ear. “Maybe they’ve gone.” I leaned to get a view of the side gate. Nothing.
We stood for a long moment, waiting in dread for something to break the silence. She sat on the couch’s armrest and wiped tears from her eyes, her chest heaving as she let out a deep breath. Pushing off the couch again, she glanced over her shoulder. “We better stay here until the cops–” Her eyes turned to the kitchen window and she slapped her hand to her mouth to muffle a piercing shriek.
Outside the window, a pot plant sat next to the fence. No sign of Kyle or Drac. She threw her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear. “I saw them.”
I held her tight in my arms. “We’re safe inside. Stay with me while I close the curtains.” She took my hand as I moved into the kitchen. My heart rose in my chest, and anger came over me – they should have left Allie out of this. Kyle and Drac needed a refresher from the USSC, no ultimatum this time.
With the curtain pulled across the window, we ran back to the living room, and a faint scuff of footsteps came from the yard outside. Shrubs rustled near the window, and Allie’s face tightened. I drew the living-room curtain, shading the outside light.
Allie put her phone to her ear. “You need to hurry… please.”
Another noise. Behind the curtain, the faint squeal of steel scraping glass. Somewhere outside, a door rattled. I scanned the room, choking down a rising lump in my throat. We weren’t safe at all. They’d be inside long before the cops showed. We needed to get to Allie’s car.
From the other side of the house, a loud smash and tinkle of falling glass rang out.
Allie screamed into her phone. “They’re coming in! Help!”
Smash!
The window next to us exploded. The curtain fluttered and Kyle’s twisted face peered through. A deep cut across his temple welled with blood.
I seized Allie’s wrist and we ran into the hall, her handbag swinging on her shoulder. The high pitch crack and shatter of glass continued behind us.
“In there!” She pointed at the internal access door to the garage. I opened the door and we stepped into darkness. Heavy footsteps clomped through the living room as I slammed the door shut. Allie blindly
Killer of Giants Page 42
