“Sure,” Billy said, wiping his nose. Then his eyes grew wide and he stumbled backwards.
Hunter spun around in time to see Patrick and his bandaged head. Patrick threw the first punch with a solid fist that hit Hunter like a baseball bat and knocked him flat.
Hunter sat up and rubbed his jaw. “Hey, Patrick, I missed you at breakfast.”
“Cut the undercover shit, baldy. Where are your friends hiding that little girl?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Wrong answer.”
Patrick stepped in line for a kick, but Hunter rolled and the big kid fell off balance when he met the empty resistance. He growled in frustration and both boys scrambled to their feet. Patrick rushed forward, swinging his fists through the air. Hunter sidestepped and punched the clumsy giant in the kidney. Unfazed, Patrick pivoted around, throwing another wide-arcing shot. Hunter dodged left, registering the breeze from the passing swipe. Pain pulsed in his face from the first punch. Another connected strike like that and he would be the one getting plucked.
Everyone in the building retreated to a safe distance but remained close enough to keep their spectator status. Billy stood alone, looking scared and anxious, which was exactly the way Hunter felt as he backpedaled from Patrick’s fury.
“I like the new look, Patty,” Hunter said, sidestepping another onrush. “What happened? I didn’t think brain surgery was possible anymore.”
Patrick frowned. “Your black buddy surprised me, but it won’t happen again. I’m going to leave all of you for dead, just like your brother.”
Hunter clenched his fist and ignored his common sense screaming at him to run away. Patrick’s hungry eyes flashed, but instead of trading punches, Hunter dropped and kicked Patrick’s right knee out. The kid yelled with pain and toppled over like a broken stone statue. Hunter pounced on top, clamping his legs around the boy’s barrel chest and punch after punch rained down.
Patrick bucked him off and Hunter rolled clear. They both got up, Patrick just a little slower, spitting blood on the concrete as he limped forward.
Hunter smiled, heaving for air as the initial adrenaline surge that brought him along this far dissipated. Was he prepared to kill Patrick? He realized he’d have a hard enough time just knocking him unconscious, while Patrick would certainly kill him if given the opportunity. Chances were slim on Hunter’s side all the way around.
He spread his hands. “Well, I’ve done everything I can. Maybe we can catch up again at breakfast tomorrow.”
Patrick grinned and lurched closer.
Billy yelled something and Hunter wished his new friend hadn’t announced his allegiance, but Patrick didn’t notice or seem to care. He continued his slow advance. Hunter swallowed his pride and turned to run just as Phillip swung his stool. Hunter’s teeth smashed inward with a brilliant sparkle of pain. He collapsed in a heap on the stinking floor.
“Thanks for the help, Phil,” Patrick said, kicking Hunter in the back of the head.
Hunter’s eyes rolled. Unconsciousness replaced the pain and swept him away.
• • •
A dragging sensation jerked him awake.
“Good,” Patrick said from somewhere above. “You’re still with us. I have to ask you a couple questions before I let you go. First off, where’s the rest of your group hiding?”
Hunter’s vision blurred, which explained the multiple Patricks gathered around him. “I’m not telling you shit,” he muttered, forcing the words out through his broken mouth.
Patrick began clubbing him with a hard object and Hunter tried to cover up without any hope. His arms, his legs, his body, his head were pummeled over and over and over again.
Suddenly the beating ceased with Patrick’s scream. Something huge and heavy landed on top of Hunter. He struggled to breathe and push the thing from his chest but his injuries wouldn’t allow it. Billy, crying, drifted close, and the heavy object slid off. Hunter wanted to reach out and touch the little boy’s face. He wanted to tell Billy to run far from this awful place.
Gradually, his worries slipped away.
The Chicken Shack. That’s where the grumpy girl with the rainbow cap said Jimmy could find Patrick. After receiving directions, Jimmy raced back into the Escalade, shifted into drive and stomped on the gas. The engine roared and he jumped the curb. A monster was stalking his little brother. It didn’t matter that Scout knocked Patrick unconscious. Someone had woken up the beast by now, and Patrick only had one target left: Hunter.
“Slow down, Jimmy!” Scout yelled after a nasty pothole sent everyone to the roof. “We’ll be screwed if we get there and can’t drive out ’cuz the truck’s wrecked.”
“He’s got a point,” Molly said from the backseat. “Drive around the potholes.”
Jimmy had only asked Scout and Molly to go with him. Raven was too shaken, they’d all worked way too hard to find Catherine to risk losing her again, and he refused to let Ginger anywhere near Patrick now that their cover was blown. He just hoped they’d find Hunter before Patrick did. Then they could simply load up and go.
As they circled in front of the Chicken Shack, Jimmy honked the horn and kids scrambled out of his path until he stopped outside the open bay door to the warehouse.
“Molly, sit behind the wheel and be ready when we come out. Let’s go, Scout.”
The fear that grew in the pit of Jimmy’s stomach climbed into his chest as he ran under the bay doors and into the back of a crowd. Everyone stood in eerie silence. Jimmy and Scout cut through the middle of the pack, stumbling to a halt when they broke through the ranks.
Scout whispered, “Holy shit.”
Those were the exact words screaming in Jimmy’s head. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath of rank air and reopened his eyes.
Patrick lay in a pool of his own blood. A short-handled axe protruded from his back. His lifeless eyes frozen in a death mask etched with shock.
A stirring of feathers and clucking brought Jimmy out of the horror and into the moment. Dozens of black-eyed chickens stared at him. Jimmy heard a little boy crying, and then realized the boy knelt next to his brother.
“Hunter!”
The little boy fell protectively over Hunter’s body, grief-stricken anger twisting his face. His hands shook with violent trembles like no one his size should ever shake.
“It’s okay, kid,” Scout said, lifting the boy away. “That’s his brother.”
“Oh my God,” Jimmy said. Hunter’s face was barely recognizable and his breathing came in harsh, strained gasps. Tears stung Jimmy’s eyes. Blood covered everything and determining the source was impossible.
The kid fell to his knees on the sticky floor close to Hunter and continued weeping. Jimmy knelt on the other side.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Billy.”
“Billy, tell me what happened.”
“Phillip hit me and Michael beat him up and then…” Billy pointed at Patrick and wept as he continued telling the story. Jimmy shuddered from the description of his defenseless brother’s beating. Billy sobbed at the conclusion of how he had stopped Patrick’s attack.
“Which one is Phillip?”
Billy searched the crowd. He pointed at a fat kid wearing a dirty shirt that didn’t fit.
“If I see you again, I’ll kill you.” Jimmy meant every word.
The fat kid spun around and charged out the door. The crowd watched him leave and then turned their attention back to Jimmy.