I'll Stop the World (106)

Karl held his breath, venturing toward the edge of the drive, trying to catch a glimpse of the speakers without them noticing him. The outside of the lot was rimmed with spindly trees, and he stuck close to them, hoping to blend in with the tangles of branches.

Robbie, Steve, and Kevin were standing over someone on the ground, taking turns landing quick kicks on all parts of their body. Karl couldn’t make out the face of their victim, but it had to be Justin. Of course they were mad at him for interfering in their torture of Karl. Twice. And Karl knew all too well how far Robbie could take things when he was mad instead of just bored.

He had to help him. But by the time he went back into the store to find help, it would be too late.

Karl looked around, searching for something he could use. About ten feet from where the boys huddled around Justin, a thick tree branch, about the length of a baseball bat, lay on the ground. Karl made his way toward it, crouching slightly, his arms stiff at his sides, his eyes glued to Robbie’s back.

Beeeeep.

A car horn blasted from the lot behind him.

He’d covered only half the distance toward the branch, his fingers already outstretched to grab it. Robbie and his friends spun in surprise as Karl jumped, startled. For a second, their eyes locked in confusion, before Robbie’s gaze darkened.

“Hey there, Derrin,” he said, taking a step toward him.

Karl spun around and ran.

“Get him!” he heard Robbie yell behind him, followed a second later by the sounds of sneakers smacking against pavement.

Karl didn’t bother to look back, knowing exactly what he’d see. Darting around a parked delivery truck, he cut through the trees that lined the edge of the parking lot, then skidded down a grassy bank and ducked into the storm drain, cold water soaking his sneakers as he ran. Hopefully, he had enough of a lead that the other boys hadn’t seen him go this way and would assume he’d gone back around the front of the building, into the store. If he was lucky, he might gain a couple of precious minutes while they searched the aisles for him.

The drain came out near the school. Karl couldn’t hear the others behind him and didn’t want to stick around long enough for that to change. He started to move toward the school, but then realized it was probably locked on the weekends. Instead, he kept to the street, his eyes roaming frantically, searching for a hiding place.

Up ahead, a pickup truck stood parked alongside the curb. Karl peered over the edge of the bed to find a couple of shovels, a bundle of firewood, and a gas canister sitting on a folded blue tarp. No longer caring whether he made noise, Karl scrambled into the bed of the truck and pulled the tarp from under the gas can, shaking it out and pulling it over his head like a blanket.

He stayed there, huddled under the tarp, trying to move as little as possible. His breath rattled in his ears, his knees pulled up to his chest, as he waited for the threat to pass.





Interlude

SHAWN, FIVE MONTHS AGO

Shawn was beginning to panic. Finals were in just a couple of days, and he’d barely studied at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy all the impromptu activities Lisa suddenly wanted to do every time they got together to study—the mall, the movies, roller-skating—but if he didn’t manage to ace his finals, there was no way he’d be in the running for the citizenship award. And he really needed that award.

Not that it was a sure thing even with the grades, but he thought he had a decent shot. It was also his only shot; his dad would never pay for him to go away for school—in Gabe Rothman’s eyes, there was only one acceptable path for his son to follow, and that was directly in his footsteps.

So since the beginning of high school, he’d always made sure to play sports, join clubs, volunteer for committees, run for student council. All things the Buford County Citizenship Award selection committee would be looking for, in addition to the grades.

But he still needed the grades.

Lisa probably didn’t realize how long it took him to prepare for tests; she had always been able to simply glance over the material the night before and earn perfect scores. He was sure she hadn’t meant to make him fall so far behind. But now he had only a few precious hours left, and he wasn’t sure it would be enough.

He balled his fingers in his hair as he paced around his backyard, trying to recite all the US presidents in chronological order. He kept getting hung up around Rutherford B. Hayes and having to start over. He was on his third attempt when he heard someone say his name.

“Shawn?”

He stopped pacing and blinked at Lisa, hugging her books on his back porch. “Oh, hey, babe,” he said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you until five.”

“It is five,” she said, holding up her wrist to show him her watch.

“Are you serious?” Shawn exclaimed, his chest clenching. He’d thought he’d have finished studying for History and English by now and would be ready to move on to Precalculus with Lisa, but he was still on his first subject, with no end in sight.

He hurried over to his pile of textbooks and folders and notecards and riffled through them, as if maybe he’d discover he’d been mistaken about just how much work he had to do that afternoon, and he was actually almost done. But if anything, there was more here than he’d mentally accounted for.

“There is no way I’m going to get through all this in time,” Shawn said, his voice coming out louder and higher than he’d intended.