by Cheree Alsop
I scuffed my toe on the wooden porch. “Who knew these things would get me in trouble?”
She shook her head. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Not even Sandy?” I pressed.
She paused. “Sandy would love to know. You should see the way she drools over your pictures on Martin’s bulletin. She would absolutely—”
“Tell the entire school,” I finished.
She paused, then nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, she would.”
“And Magnum would chase your family out of town and burn your house and fields. I’ve heard how it goes.”
She nodded again. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” She glanced at me. “But you owe me one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said with a smile. I pushed up gingerly. “But for now, I’m getting some sleep.”
She grinned. “You deserve it, Black Rider.”
I pulled her up and we went inside. I sat on the edge of my cot for a moment and thought about Cassidy’s words. There was a bit of relief in knowing that someone else kept my secret. I felt a little lighter. If something went wrong, at least she knew I was trying to do good.
I fell asleep that night without nightmares, lulled by the endless chirp of crickets and the harmony of the wind brushing past the windowsill. A cow stirred in the barn and gave a half-hearted moo, and then silence fell over the Ashby house.
MADELYN’S EYES WERE RED when she stepped onto the bus the next morning. She took the seat across from me and stared out the window. “Madelyn?” I called, trying to get her attention. “Maddy?”
When she didn’t turn around, I scooted next to her. I touched her shoulder and she jumped. She turned around, her face pale and eyes wide. I had never seen anyone look so scared. “It’s just me, Maddy,” I said, holding up my hands.
Recognition swept across her face and she leaned against my chest. Her shoulders trembled when I put my arms around her. “What’s wrong?” I asked gently. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
She shook her head without looking up, and I knew. “He’s at your house, isn’t he? The one who hurts you?”
I felt her shoulders tense and her entire body became stiff. I thought for a moment that she would push me away, but a second later, she melted into my arms and a sob escaped her that was buried in the shouts and laughter on the bus. “I can’t go home. I won’t.”
“Don’t, then,” I replied, running my hand down her hair. Every fiber in my body screamed for me to find whoever made her so scared and teach him what becomes of treating girls poorly. “You can come to my house. The Ashbys won’t mind. You’ll be safe there.” She listened as if she needed to hear reassuring words. I smoothed her hair down her back and debated what to do.
I lowered my voice. “Madelyn, you’ve got to tell me who’s doing this to you.” I heard my father in my words, stern and strict, not willing to give an inch. I had never used such a tone with anyone; it gave her no chance to argue.
She looked up into my eyes and my heart broke at the terror I saw in them. “I won’t let him hurt you again, Maddy. I promise,” I said in the same tone, hoping she would lower her walls and let me in. “You’ve got to trust me the way I trust you.”
She hesitated, then gave a shallow nod.
“Did he hurt you yesterday or today?” I asked. My hands balled into fists. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I—”
She shook her head. “He hasn’t come over yet,” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. “But he’ll be there tonight.” The tremor in her words made my rage rise into a fury.
“Who?” I demanded.
“My uncle,” she whispered. “My dad’s brother Mitch. He stays with us every few months or so on work leave.”
“He arrives tonight?”
She nodded. A shudder ran through her body. “He acts nice, but he goes drinking at night before he comes home, then he waits for everyone to go to bed, and he. . . .” Her voice choked off.
“It’s all right,” I soothed. “You’ll be all right. He won’t hurt you again.”
“You promise?” she asked in a small voice.
“I promise,” I replied in a tone that left no doubt. I wasn’t sure what I would do, but he wasn’t going anywhere near Madelyn again.
THE SCHOOL HAD BEEN completely redecorated in gold and silver for the upcoming Senior Ball. Posters lined the walls inviting everyone to become “Royalty for a Night.” The senior class presidency sat at a table near the office taking names and selling tickets for the dance.
“Are you guys going to the ball?” I asked Cassidy and Sandy.
Cassidy had kept her word, but I could tell it played on her conscience where Sandy was concerned.
“I’m just waiting for a boy to ask me,” Sandy replied, studying the posters hungrily. “And I wouldn’t mind if he was wearing all black when he did.”
“Oh, Sandy,” Cassidy replied with a laugh. She threw me a look that said keeping my secret was killing her. “You’d be happy to go with a frog.”
Sandy nodded. “Especially at this ball, because he’d probably turn into a prince.”
I rolled my eyes and was about to comment when a shoulder slammed into mine and shoved me against the table. I turned to see Magnum grin at several of his minions. “It’s Bazooka, right?” I asked, feigning innocence.
His smile disappeared. “Magnum,” he growled. He grabbed the front of my shirt. “You’re always in the way, Keldon,” he said with spit flying.
I wiped a drop of spittle from my cheek and shrugged. “It’s Kelson, and sorry about that. I try not to take up much space.”
He looked like he didn’t know if I was being sarcastic or not.
Principal Dawson walked out of the office and spotted us. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Signing up for the ball?”
Magnum let me go and I smoothed the front of my shirt as Cassidy and Sandy exchanged wide-eyed looks. “Exactly, Principal Dawson,” Magnum replied. He glared at the senior class president. The boy quickly wrote on two tickets and handed them to Magnum without asking for payment. Magnum shoved the gold-embossed tickets in his pocket and walked off without looking back.
Principal Dawson glanced at me, then looked away as if he had better things to occupy his time.
“Boy, that was close,” Sandy said breathlessly. “I think he wanted to pound your face in.”
“Would you have let him?” Cassidy asked. At my look, she shut her mouth.
“He would’ve had to let him,” Sandy replied. “Nobody can stop Magnum. He’s like a bull seeing red. And apparently Kelson’s always wearing red.”
We all looked at my shirt and then laughed at the irony that it was indeed red. “I may have to rethink my wardrobe,” I said.
“Maybe black’s your color,” Cassidy replied. She grinned at my look and took off down the hall with Sandy close behind.
When I reached English class, students were showing different views of the race at the factory.
“You seen this one?” Andrew asked. He sat next to me and usually spent the entire class period giving Mrs. Carol a hard time.
I accepted the phone and watched the slightly shaky recording of the race. It was strange to see it from a different point of view. I watched us disappear around a corner and the crowd burst into talking. When we rounded the final bend before the starting line of the second lap, I watched as I revved the throttle, and then Magnum kicked my tire. The tires squealed on the pavement as I fought to maintain control. Everyone pressed back and the camera lost the view for a moment, then a puff of burned rubber showed and I sped back out of sight.
“Man, that was close,” somebody said.
“Magnum did that,” another student pointed out. “He kicked the tire.”
“Don’t say that to his face,” a girl said, and several others gave nervous laughs.
The bikes appeared down the final stretch.
“Where’s the Black Rider?” a boy called.
“I don’t see him,” a girl repl
ied.
“Maybe he wrecked.”
“Up there!”
“On the roof!”
The camera panned up just as my bike cleared the space between the first and second warehouses. I had a strange moment of split memory, seeing the crowd below as I landed on the second roof, and watching myself as I hit the aluminum and skidded down the side.
“He’s gonna fall!” the one who held the camera yelled.
Smoke rose from the tires as I braked and popped the clutch. The front tire jumped into the air. Girls screamed when my motorcycle cleared the edge of the roof. I stood on the footrests looking calm and indifferent with my black visor. I appeared in control and collected as my back tire hit the ground. My bike skidded in a half circle just as the other riders pulled up.
“You’re insane,” Magnum said.
I handed the phone back to Andrew. “That’s awesome.”
His eyes widened. “Awesome? Really? It’s totally freakin’ amazing, that’s what it is. Have you ever seen anyone ride on rooftops and jump down like that? No! Because it’s a stupid thing to try. Anyone who did would wreck!”
“He didn’t,” I pointed out.
He shook his head. “He’s unreal. The Black Rider put Magnum in his place on that ride.”
I was about to reply when Mrs. Carol began class. Andrew sat back and raised his hand. Mrs. Carol sighed before calling on him. “Wouldn’t it be a better use of our education if we all learned to use CliffsNotes instead of wasting our time reading?” he asked with an innocent expression.
“The point is to read,” Mrs. Carol replied patiently.
“I’d be reading the CliffsNotes,” he pointed out. “Besides, someone went to all that trouble compiling them. It would be a waste of their ingenuity to ignore such a valuable resource.”
“You are still required to read Farenheit 451, Andrew.”
“But Mrs. Carol . . .”
THERE WERE THREE BARS in town. I checked each one and asked if there were any out-of-towners drinking that night. It was amazing how open with information the bartenders were for the Black Rider. Apparently being known through town had its benefits, and though I felt strange wearing my motorcycle helmet inside, the anonymity paid off when the bartender at the third bar pointed to a guy at a table in the corner nursing a beer and eyeing the waitresses.
“He comes in every few months for a week or so. By the end of the night, the girls are ready to send him packin’.”
“Do you know his name?” I pressed.
The bartender thought for a minute, then said, “Morgan, or Murphy, or Mitch. Some M name. I’m pretty sure it’s Mitch. I could ask one of my girls. He’s always tryin’ to get them to call.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s all I needed to know. Thank you for your help.”
I turned to go, but the bartender said, “Uh, Black Rider?” He used the name cautiously.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” At my silence, he scrubbed a spot on the counter that was already clean. “The Bullets are out of control. I’d like to see ‘em reined in before they’re old enough to end up in here every night. They had futures before the sheriff’s son was killed. They can still make it.”
I didn’t know how to reply. I wondered how many more people worried about the Bullets but didn’t know how to act. I nodded. “I’m trying my best.”
“You’re doing somethin’, and that’s what counts,” the bartender concluded. He glanced at Mitch, then leaned closer to me. “And if you take out some garbage while you’re at it, ain’t nobody gonna begrudge you.”
I left the bar and circled around back. Apparently the bartender was serious about the girls sending Mitch on his way because he stumbled out the back door about a half hour later. He peered through the dark, then made his way toward a small gray car parked near one of the only working streetlights. A string of foul curses regarding the bartender and his waitresses ruined what was once a peaceful night.
The sight of him drunk and angry sent a surge of rage through my veins so hot I felt like my limbs were on fire. I pictured Madelyn’s fear again and knew the terror that would shine in her eyes if Mitch showed up at her house. I wondered how many nights she had cowered in dread, knowing she couldn’t leave her mother and unable to escape this living nightmare.
Hatred fueled my stride when I crossed to his car. He tried to open his door, but I pushed it shut.
“What d’ya think you’re doin’?” he demanded, his words slurred. He turned and I hit him in the jaw. He flopped against the car and fell forward; I slugged him in the stomach, then again in the face.
“You like to molest little girls?” I shouted. “You like to hurt them?” I kneed him in the groin and he fell to the ground, then rolled onto his back, moaning. I bent over him. “You’re a sick, selfish sack of garbage. You don’t deserve to be in the same town as Madelyn.” I must have watched too much WWF growing up because I dropped to my knees on his stomach.
He cursed and curled in a ball. I wanted to make every inch of him hurt. I wanted him to fear ever coming back to Sparrow again. I didn’t want Madelyn to be safe just for tonight—I wanted her never to worry about her uncle again.
I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up. He stared at his reflection in my visor as I growled, “If you ever, ever come back to Sparrow, you won’t get a beating—you’ll get a burial. I can guarantee that.” I slugged him again. He fell against the car and slid down to a sitting position.
“What are you doing?”
I turned with my fists up, ready to defend myself.
Magnum backed away with his hands raised. “Whoa. I’m just asking.” He glanced at Mitch, then back at me. “I thought your vendetta was against my boys, not,” another glance, “drunk losers behind bars.”
I opened and shut my hands. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I wanted nothing more than to beat Mitch to a bloody pulp. The thought was disgusting and entirely against my normal way of thinking. I took a calming breath, but my heart pounded in my chest. “He rapes young girls, and one of them is my friend. I want to make sure he’s never going to touch her again.”
Magnum watched me for a minute, then turned to Mitch. Before I could ask him what he was doing, he crouched and grabbed the man by the throat hard enough to keep his attention. “Look at me,” Magnum demanded. When the man refused to obey, he yelled, “Look at me!”
Mitch rolled his eyes in Magnum’s direction.
“I am the law in this town,” Magnum said. “I run the Bullets. Do you know who we are?”
Mitch nodded. It was clear by his expression he had heard of the gang.
“If you ever show up in Sparrow again, we will leave you naked in a burning field, do you hear me?”
Mitch nodded quickly.
Magnum leaned closer and spoke in a steady growl. “And if you ever hurt another young woman, I will personally neuter you and leave you crying on the sheriff’s doorstep with a note detailing all of your crimes.” His face was an inch from Mitch’s when he concluded in a low, dangerous tone, “Do you understand?”
Mitch nodded quickly. Magnum pulled open the driver-side door and shoved the man onto the seat. “You’re leaving town for the very last time,” Magnum said.
Mitch shakily started his car and we both watched him drive off into the night. It was a strange feeling, standing side by side with my rival, bound by a similar enemy.
“Naked in a burning field?” I asked quietly when the car’s taillights were out of sight.
“No matter what you’ve heard, I’ve never done that to a person.” He paused, then said, “But for him, I would consider it.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
I WAITED AT THE corner with my lights off. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Magnum’s blue CBR came speeding past. I followed him as he turned down a long, empty road. I stayed as close as I dared. Riding in the middle of the night with headlights off generally isn’t recommended. Most newer bikes didn’t have a headlight shu
toff—only controls to change the light from bright to dim. Luckily, whoever rode this one before me thought it would be handy to have that capability and rigged it accordingly.
Magnum pulled up to a house with one working light on the porch. The other flickered like a bug zapper, but without the benefits. He parked his bike next to the sagging porch and walked across the front lawn, which consisted of crabgrass and what looked like scattered scrawny seedlings from the apple tree in the corner.
He hesitated at the bottom of the three stairs. I had never seen Magnum hesitate at anything. He took a steeling breath, then stepped over the first stair to the second. It groaned under his weight and the front door flew open.
“Where ‘ave you been?” a tall, skinny girl with scraggly red hair demanded. “Dad’s gonna lay into you. You were supposed to be home hours ago.” She sniffed the air when Magnum walked past her into the house. “You been drinkin’? Oh, Dad’s gonna have your hide. I can’t wait to see if you get the belt, the board, or . . .” Her voice died away when the door shut behind them.
I sat on the motorcycle for a few minutes. I felt a pang of sympathy for Magnum, something I hadn’t been prepared to feel. As I drove back to the Ashbys’, I realized I didn’t know anything about the people I was around every day. I criticized Magnum for making judgments regarding his peers, and yet I had done the same thing. I drove home slowly with the thought that perhaps there was more to the Bullet leader than I realized.
WHEN I GOT HOME, I expected to find the Ashby family getting ready to settle in for the night, but instead, Cassidy was jumping around the house in such excitement that Jake was barking in the yard. I tossed my shoes in the mud room and crossed to the kitchen. I had to laugh at the sight of Cassidy standing on the table with Cole hiding underneath. She held a piece of gold-colored paper in one hand and was waving it at her dad.
Aunt Lauren leaned in the doorway with her arms crossed and a smile of enjoyment on her face. “What’s going on?” I asked her in an undertone.