Dark Rider -- Part 18
by Martin H Slusser

School dragged by. Todd enjoyed it, though. He slapped Benny on the head and smirked. In retaliation Benny sneered and tried a little harder, which is what his teachers had hoped for when they kept the pair together.

That lasted for a few minutes, then he began to fidget. Man, but why didn’t Mom just let him quit?

Grabbing lunch sacks from their lockers, they walked through the line at the cafeteria, and then to a table. The kids there glared at Benny and shoved aside, some leaving the table for another seat.

Smear shoved aside one of the Daily brothers. He laughed at the angry frustration on the shorter one’s face. Four of the Club’s members made room at the same cafeteria table and sat, loose and easy. Benny was close, Benny was theirs.

Face bleak, Benny scowled. He grimaced at Todd and squelched a hiccup.

“I’m joining up. I talked to the recruiter last week. The dude tells me I can sign the papers now. Only I got to get Mom to do it, too.” He shook his head and squatted by Todd.

The table was emptying fast.

“Dude said they’d be glad to get me. Because of the drug war and all.” Embittered, he realized it wasn’t so much him they wanted.

Because of Dad and Carl, not because of what I can do. They don’t want any whores.

Todd put the sandwich back into the sack. He stared at the paper bag, at a loss for words. The Marines, wow . . . . He glanced at Benny, quickly looking away. Man, but it had been lonely, growing up after Benny had been . . . been kidnapped by Children’s Services. Lonely for them both.

Oblivious to the uproar in the cafeteria, he murmured, “When?”

Hearing an odd catch in Todd’s voice, Benny threw a sharp scowl at him.

“I . . . donno, bro-Toddy.” He grimaced, needing to roll a smoke in the worse way. Ain’t no way he could do it in here. Too many snitches. One more demerit and he was a gonner. Benny flushed and fidgeted on the hard seat. He glanced at Todd, looked quickly away. “I . . . Maybe soon. I’m sixteen, bro. Almost,” he hastened to add. “Only now you gotta be seventeen to put in a hitch,” Benny grumbled, and scowled at the bag in Todd’s hands.

How old had his dad been when they shipped him off? Yo, Uncle Charlie did his time in the desert and come home way before then, a reg'lar war hero, man. Decorations up the wazoo.

Man, but Todd looked sick or somethin.

Forcing a grin, Benny nodded at Todd’s hands. “You gonna eat that or grind it up?”

Todd looked at the sack. He had twisted it into a knot, tearing it. He turned, pitching it at the trash cans by the kitchen doors. It dropped in.

“Two points.”

Nodding abruptly, Benny forced a laugh and stood.

“Let’s get out a here, man. I’m sick of school.” Benny flashed a grin at Todd.

Head dropping in a slow nod, Todd arose. If Benny wanted to skip a few classes, that was fine with him. He was so far ahead of average when the Janissary Project took them all prisoner he skipped weeks and didn’t need to make it up.

“Where is he?”

Smear jumped on the table and scanned the room for Benny. “Where is that bastard?” Smear howled. Heads jerked in his direction, looked away just as fast.

All but one. With a face cement couldn’t crack, Mrs. Ritter plowed through the mass of students. One glance at the look on her face and they shrank away.

“Oh, shit.”

Smear jumped off the table, but Mrs. Ritter put on a burst of speed. Her hand snaked out and she latched onto his ear. He squalled in pain.

“You can’t do this to me. I’ll report you to Children’s Services.”

Glaring up at her from his knees, his hand crept to his back pocket.

“I wouldn’t,” Mrs. Ritter told him, giving smear an easy smile. “Mine’s bigger. I use it to castrate bull calves and pigs. What’s one more, right?”

One thing Smear knew like he knew shit stinks: Mrs. Ritter never lied.

Hands out from his sides, he followed very carefully.

Slipping past the boy’s showers and out the back doors, they darted to a low wall and dived over. The boys tumbled on the steep slope behind the wall, laughing and screaming at each other. At the bottom, they jumped up, grinned wildly, and raced down the slope past the foot ball field to the woods. Once there, they ran through the cover, snickering at the condoms littering the grass, and circled the school grounds.

“We want Grey. Where is he?” Smear’s lieutenant smiled at Mike Daily. Mike shivered and told them.

Fifteen minutes later they were jogging uphill along a murky stream, puffing and groaning. The lonely wail of a train whistle drifted through the scrub oaks and laurels.

“Run, run,” Benny screamed. “We miss this one and we’ll have to walk home.” Sixteen miles, Benny shuddered.

They burst out of the underbrush, lungs begging for air, sides cramping. Their faces and hands were scratched and clawed by thorn apples and blackberry vines.

Happy, Benny shouted, “Here she comes.” He pointed at the old diesel engine rumbling up the grade. Taking his cousin by the arm, Benny tugged him back into the trees. “He might see us,” Benny hissed. Todd snorted, and gave a quick nod. “Yeah, they carry phones -”

“Yeah.” Benny shuddered. They could both wind up in the reformatory if they got caught hopping a freight. Or Todd would. Benny knew he wouldn’t make it that far. Not with Cindy on the prowl. Ain’t been caught yet, though. Some day it would all come to a head, and he looked forward to it. Benny gave an unpleasant smile at that.

The train groaned, wheels squealing and rattling the rails. It had to move slow because of the grade. Benny let several cars rumble past before he jogged over the rocky base along the rails.

A door slammed open. He edged towards it. The car shifted and its twin slammed shut. Benny shuddered and dropped back.

Mike Lewellen had gotten caught in something like that last summer when hitching a ride up the river from White Haven.

Another door loomed. It was opened and so far as he could see, was locked back. Benny caught the side of the open door, heaved, and slipped.

His hand was caught.

For one horrifying moment he was suspended between life and death, and death looked like his best, only, option.

Benny was dragged along, the train reached the peak of the grade and picked up speed. Mike had slipped and the train sheared off both his legs at the knees. He died laying on the tracks, screaming until his heart burst from the pain.

Then he was snatched up, hurled bodily into the car. Benny tumbled across the dirty wood floor and sprawled against the back wall.

Gasping for breath, the four sagged to the ground beside the tracks. Leather Jacket pulled a phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Leda there? NO? Well, I got good news for her-”

One of the Club snatched at the phone.

“Man, what about VanTur?”

“Fuck her. You want the Owl to get pissed at you? VanTur bitch ain’t shit compared with him.”

Gentle hands patted his face. Benny opened his eyes and saw Toddy frowning at him.

“You gonna live, bro?”

Benny glared at Todd, shoving the hands away and sat up a little too quickly. Man, but his ribs hurt.

Crawling forward, Benny peered at the trees and rocks gliding past, and spat to show his contempt. He grinned at Todd and gave him a light pop him in the chest.

Tossing the phone aside, Leda stretched her hands over the ‘Stone. Her chant rose and fell, repeated many times because the power of the Aga:Veil, the sun, was greater than her own.

Out of the shadows of silent hemlocks crept unclean things.

Leda screamed once, shrill, and fell across the ‘Stone.

Time passed, the lines of sunlight in the glen made subtle changes and shifts and so did Leda’s body.

The line of cars squealed and groaned its way down through the hills, heading down the Lehigh Gorge towards White Haven. The two let their legs hang out the car door, yelling and screaming as the car swayed back and forth. Deer stared in panicked horror, then snorted and stamped their fore hoofs at the jeering boys. Streams flashed by under the rails, trees and birds fluttered in the crisp autumn air.

The car they hopped rattled across the Gorge. The breeze coming off the river was cool and stiff. They gathered themselves and looked for a soft spot on the ground ahead.

Benny grinned at Todd. They leaped, tangled in brush, and thumped into the damp mat of fallen leaves that blanked the ground.

Crawling up, they both spat at the retreating last car through their laughter. Benny hugged his ribs, but felt great. He took a deep breath and yelled, “Freedom, yo.”

A mutter sounded in the maples overhead. Todd looked up and groaned. The bird fluttered away to alight in another tree.

He poked Benny in the arm and pointed.

With a fierce hate, Benny spat, or tried to, his mouth suddenly dry, his knees shaking. Snatching up a rock, Benny heaved it at the owl. The bird hissed and dodged, and the rock hurtled past at an impossible angle.

She raised her head and looked behind her. Giving a satisfied croak, she wheeled in the air and opened her mouth in a shrill screech of sound. Leda darted near and her claws raked at Benny’s head. Benny dodged. He threw up his hands to drag her from the air and a claw nicked him.

The boys clapped their hands to their ears and grimaced. Todd made the sign of the Eagle-Mother. His stomach twisted as the spell began to take effect. He tried to move and couldn’t, his feet were root to the forest loam.

“Leda,” Benny’s voice cracked harshly somewhere between boy and adult. “Beat it. Or I’ll beat you.”

The owl shot off the branch and flapped away on weak and clumsy wings. Leda was never much of one for working out when she could be making out. Benny stared at the struggling owl, contempt plain on his features through the fear. A shrill howl rent the air. More howls rose, faint, but closing in.

“She’s heading for somebody,” Todd yelled. “Shon:gili were-beasts?” Todd’s eyes widened in fright. “She got her Night Hunters waiting.” He yanked out the tobacco pouch. The owl screeched again, and a sudden breeze snatched at the cigarette papers, caught them and they fluttered away. Cold laughter whispered over the boys. Benny snatched at the papers and missed.

Todd shook his head.

“No time, bro.”

Dumping some of the tobacco in his hand, Todd dug a lighter out of his pocket, playing the fire over the tobacco. Moments passed, the howls grew stronger. More certain of their prey, a pack of lumbering, dog-like beasts picked up the pace and plowed through the brush. A wisp of blue-gray smoke curled up. The small pile ignited, bursting into flames.

Men in dark suits stalked the halls, straightening the American flags with its twisted crosses that replaced the stars. Teachers and students alike watched in sullen anger the Federal agents and their sneering dogs from the Club.

She sank back into the luxury of the Duesenburg’s plush seats and waited for them to fetch her pet.

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