The Fourth Stall - Chris Rylander [82]
“Jeez, Staples, what is this?” PJ said, sounding a little annoyed and shocked.
“I’ve caught us a little troublemaker! He tried to blackmail me, and now we’re going to make him pay,” Staples said.
“You kidnapped a little kid?” said one of the teenagers, laughing. But he didn’t really sound all that amused.
Staples shrugged.
“What are you going to do with him?” PJ asked.
“You mean, what are we going to do with him, right?” Staples asked with a glare so dark that his eyes were like two black holes.
“Uh, yeah, sure, whatever . . .” PJ said, sounding nervous.
“Are you going soft on me, PJ?” Staples asked. “Huh? You had no problem beating him up after he kicked you. Am I supposed to just sit here and do nothing when he goes after me? Is that how it is? You know what’s in this for me; I can’t let him do that.”
I wondered what Staples had meant by that. What didn’t I know about his business that was so important to him?
Staples stood up and walked over to PJ. I thought he was going to punch him, and I think PJ did, too, because he flinched. But Staples just slapped him across the back like they were old friends.
“Come on, man!” Staples said with a big grin. “You’re still in this with me, right?”
PJ hesitated. I couldn’t really see from my angle, but I think Staples gave him a look that pleaded for agreement. Staples had usually seemed so in control, but now he was acting almost desperate.
“Yeah, you’re right,” PJ finally said.
“All right, that’s my boy!” Staples said, punching his arm. PJ winced in pain. “Just remember who pays for your car’s upgrades and your girlfriend’s necklaces and stuff, right?”
PJ nodded and tried to laugh.
Staples turned to face me. He was still smiling.
“I guess it’s about that time, Christian,” he said, walking over to me. “What do you say we get this show on the road?”
“Actually, I could stand to wait a little bit,” I said.
He laughed. Then he said, “Oh, Christian. I really did like you, you know? You’re a funny kid. We maybe even could have been friends.”
He loomed over me, looking like the devil himself. I think he was waiting for me to say something else. I just looked up at him with the meanest glare I could manage.
“No last words? Just a nasty look?” he asked.
I stayed silent.
“Okay, then, suit yourself,” he said as he cracked his knuckles. It sounded like bones snapping. I winced as he cracked each finger one by one.
I didn’t really like where this whole thing was headed.
Chapter 27
Staples looked down at me for a few moments. The sun was almost directly behind his head, and his face just appeared as a black silhouette. Even though I couldn’t see it, I was pretty sure he was smiling. Then he reached down and grabbed the collar of my shirt and lifted me into the air.
I twisted around to see if his posse was really going to let him do this, and that’s when I saw perhaps the greatest sight I’ve ever seen. There was a bike gang headed our way down the gravel road. The bikes may have been pedal bicycles and not huge chopper motorcycles, and they were ridden by a bunch of kids instead of big muscular dudes with tattoos and black leather, but to me it was all the same at that point.
The caravan consisted of six riders. In the lead was a really little kid on a small bike. As they drew nearer, I was finally able to make out who it was: Fred. Fred was leading the charge, and behind him rode Vince, Joe, Nubby, Great White, and Kitten.
Staples dropped me to the ground and turned to face the newcomers.
“What the . . .”
Everybody turned as the six bikes skidded to a stop in quick succession on the dirt. It was really cool as the dirt sprayed up in front of them. Then Nubby, the last one to stop, accidentally went too far and his front wheel hit Joe’s bike, and he toppled off and sprawled onto the ground headfirst. It kind of ruined the moment a little bit. The four high school kids laughed, but Staples just stared as Nubby quickly climbed back to his feet.
“What do we have here? A dork convention?” one of the high school kids said, and then laughed. Nobody else laughed