The Breaking Point

Chapter 16

"Alrighty, this is the place. That'll be 1,203,"the driver announced as the boys tumbled out of their uncomfortable positions and out of the car. The driver lowered the passenger seat window and stuck his hand out expectantly.

Everyone froze. This was going to be an issue.

"You don't take IOU's right?" Dylan asked meekly.

The driver growled.

"Can you open the trunk?" asked Hyde. "My bag's still in there."

But the driver was done being Mr. Nice. "Not until I get my money."

Hyde sighed and slipped his wallet out of his pants' pocket. "You got any change?" He asked, handing him a ¥2000 note.

The driver shook his head.

"I can't give you nearly double the money," Hyde protested. He turned to the others. "You guys don't have any change, right?"

Dylan held up a $5 bill. "I only got 5."

"We're in Japan, Dylan. They don't take dollars," Fideo reminded him.

"We have to hurry. There are a ton of ambulances parked over there and a big crowd. Mark's probably in one of those. Make it quick or else they might take off before we reach him," Mark Kruger warned.

Hyde sighed. "OK, fine. Keep the change." The driver's eyes glistened. "But open the trunk, OK?"

"Sure thing."

The boys rounded the car to get to the trunk, but before anyone could do anything, it sped off faster than lightning, leaving the boys coughing in the smoke.

"Quick! Catch it!" Fideo shouted. He was about to chase the car if it weren't for the hand that caught his shoulder. He whirled around. "Come on, we're soccer players. We can catch him."

But Hyde just shook his head. "If we do, he'll do anything to get away. Then someone will get hurt. We have other priorities."

"But your stuff!" Fideo protested.

Hyde gave him a smile. "Don't worry about it, Fideo. I came here with the bare minimum. Anything valuable's at home. He can keep what's in the bag."

"Mark's right, though. You did find the worst taxi," Bobby growled.

"I didn't. I left the airport and he rushed up to me and said he'd be honored to drive me wherever I wanted-at half price. I tried to refuse but he insisted."

"He must have figured out who you are," Teres guessed.

"If the seat thing was there when you came, he probably didn't want you sitting next to him so you could take back your money," Erik suggested.

"It was. Anyway, where's Mark?"

They searched the crowd but all they found were doctors, nurses, patients, and other hospital staff.

"Maybe he's in one of the ambulances," Erik proposed.

"Nope, I tried to look but they wouldn't let me. So I asked for his name and they told me that the ambulances were only for ICU patients and that he wasn't one of them," Fideo informed them.

"Hold on, I see him. Over there!"

Hector pointed in the direction of a couple wheeled beds, grouped together, each carrying about four sitting patients. One of them was a boy with brown hair and an orange headband. He was wearing a white T-shirt and unevenly cropped black shorts that attempted to cover his bandaged limbs. Even without his uniform or usual grin, they knew he was their Mark Evans.