Runner by Tracy Clark

Author:Tracy Clark [Clark, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-03-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

I shifted, turned, which broke the kid’s momentum, but also gave her a smaller target to aim for. She tried to adjust, to come at me again, but I kicked the back of her knee, buckling her left leg, then shoved her to the floor, grabbing the bat out of her hands as she went. Stunned, but unhurt, she scrambled to her feet and backed away from me, eyes wide.

I eyed the bat. It was an old Louisville Slugger, and it looked like some animal had chewed the crap out of it. If I hadn’t turned around fast enough, the police would be bagging it as evidence to use at the kid’s trial. I, of course, would be dead, or close to it.

I glanced over at the kid. She was a tiny slip of a thing, dressed in flimsy layers, her pink boots scuffed all over. She glared back at me as though I’d tried to bash her head in, instead of it being the other way around. That’s when the shadows at the sides of the room began to move and I found myself quickly surrounded by Scoot and a ragtag band of half-pints. No one looked happy to see me.

“Hey, Scoot.” I tossed the bat down, hoping to keep things calm and cordial. The sound of the bat hitting the floor echoed off the walls. “Mind if we talk now?”

I counted six kids of varying heights, ages—a motley crew. Scoot made seven. Each kid had a weapon: one, a two-by-four; another, what looked like the leg to a dining-room table, spikes nailed to the tip. Scoot held a club that looked like it had been used more than once to stoke the fire. One gangly boy of sixteen or so had a shiv, dirty tape wound around the makeshift handle. A shiv. My tossing the bat now seemed premature.

“You crazy, or something?” Scoot asked.

“Probably.” I looked around me, squinting into the dark. “Is she here?” My eyes held Scoot’s. “Is she one of you?”

Nobody said anything. I walked over to the can, slowly, my hands up and out. The fire. It wouldn’t last too much longer. I stuck my hands over the top to warm them, keeping my eyes on the kids, of course, and that shiv.

“You seem to think I’m the enemy here. I’m trying to help Ramona.” I looked around the group. “Or any one of you, if you want it.” I took in the room, what I could see of it. “Anything has to be better than this.”

“Not stepfathers.” A girl in back, wearing a bright red wool hat, glowered at me, her arms folded across her chest. My heart sank. What had she endured at home that she would prefer this to going back?

“What’s your name?”

She huffed, turned away. The group chuckled, I didn’t. I didn’t see a single thing funny. I watched as she stepped back behind the others and shut down. The girl in the red wool hat. I wondered if

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