The Outsiders: Book Two

Found

As we padded around the streets, we saw nothing but empty alleys and side roads. This part of town was uncannily quiet, like it knew something was amiss. You could have dropped a book and it would never have reached the ground, the air was that thick with tension. It seemed like an industrial ghost town. We wandered the area for a while, glancing down alleys and exchanging confused looks and shrugs.

“What're you doin' in a bad neighborhood like this, grease?” a husky voice asked, as I felt something sharp press against the small of my back.

Darry pivoted on the spot, his face alarmed then relieved. “Oh, hey Tim.”

Tim Shepard grinned drily. “Hey Darry pal. How's it going?”

“That's what I was gonna ask you.”

Shepard shrugged. “Well I'm just dandy, thanks. Why're you prowling' in my part of town, huh?”

“So it wasn't you?”

“What wasn't me? Don't say that. It probably was.”

“This,” Darry said, tossing him the bottle with the letter in it.

Tim caught it easily in his hand. “And what is this?” he said, fishing out the note.

“Thought you could tell me. It said to meet us here, so I did, in case you had a problem.”

“The greasiest good Samaritan out there.”

“Funny. So you or your boys didn't send that?”

Tim read it over, and shook his head. “Can't say we did. Where'd you get it?”

“Our lot. It was left there and had a red handkerchief tied around it, Sodapop found it.”

Tim wrinkled his nose in distaste. He had never liked our lot—not enough territory. Remember, I told you Tim likes having his power? This is what I mean, at least one aspect of it. Besides, even friendly gangs didn't cut into each other's territory without a real good reason.

“No names, huh?”

“Not a single one.”

“It sounds like someone was plannin' to jump y'all.”

Darry sighed. “That's what we were thinking. But we came in case it was actually you needin' help, or somethin' of the like.”

Tim shook his head. “We're fine. And we ain't seen no one in our territory. But there was somethin' odd this mornin'.”

“What woss that?” Steve asked, leaning his elbow on Soda's shoulder.

“Well, there was some blood 'bout two nights ago near the outskirts of town, but in our turf. Not much, but there was a trail of the stuff for a little while. Looked fresh. There wasn't enough to tell where it'd come from.”

The guys looked pensive. I wondered about it myself. Maybe there was a connection. I don't know, but I was curious about it.

“Well...I guess we'll go now,” Darry said. “If you see hide or hair of something funny, send someone over to let us know, savvy?”

“I dig. See ya soon, pal, I'm gonna go get my guys and hunt some action. Oh, and little Curtis, you should see Curly sometime, he's been itchin' to hang with you. You guys don't dare pull a Chicken on me again though.”

I nodded. Curly dug okay, even if he was kinda slow in the head. “Will do.”

We were pretty far back in Shepard turf, so Sodapop suggested we look down the alleys on our way out, it seemed practical enough. And Soda thinks he's dumb. He might not be a good speller or mathematician, but he knew the score.

So as we passed, we once again poked into the surrounding streets and alleys, but saw nothing. We were tired, hungry, and kinda sleepy, and ready to get out of there.

Just as we passed the last alley, I noticed a figure laying like a bump on a log against a dumpster. They had on dark clothes, and were tall and lanky. “Darry...” I said, holding up my hand. “Wait a sec, will ya?”

I approached the figure slowly and carefully, noticing blood shining burgundy on the surrounding concrete. The figure had their hood pulled up, and their head was slumped. What if they were unconscious?

I stood there for a moment, then cautiously nudged them with my toe. Whoever it was stirred. Their head lifted slightly, but not enough for their face to be visible, and they reached out to touch my leg. Finally, his head raised, and I everything stopped as we made eye-contact. My breathing, my heart, time, the earth, the city noises, everything stopped.

I screamed bloody murder.