Vanished

Chapter Twenty-Two

Henry noticed that Stick had his box on the floor already. How did the guy who never let anything hurt him become a coward with simple words? Nothing could get past him back then, when it had just been school. Why was he acting this way? Had it been because of what happened to Vickie?

"I'm not doing it," Stick murmured, lowering his head.

"You're gonna get beat up by Greyson!" Devon freaked out.

Stick turned, heading to push open the back door and left with the door slamming behind.

Henry didn't say anything to him. For some strange reason, Vickie's death had been taking a toll on him. He wasn't the one driving, but he had seen it all happen in a matter of seconds. The only reason he suggested throwing her into the ditch was so they wouldn't get caught.

This wasn't the real world anymore, but freedom. It had devolved into sides, each with their own set of leaders.

"You can keep the whoppers," Henry harshly said, rushing out with what he did have.

If they didn't get all the food, Henry could always just say it was Devon's fault. Since Stick wasn't going to revert to himself, Henry had to become their leader. If he had a choice, Devon could be the one he'd store in a freezer.

Devon, too, was a freak, who is definitely annoying for a child. Henry shut the door behind him, placing the food in the backseat. Going into the driver's seat, he glanced toward Stick.

"Let's go to my place for drinks," Henry suggested.

Starting the SUV, he made his way down the road. It felt similar to those race car games at an arcade, trying not to hit anything. Pulling into the small driveway, he slammed on the brakes. His mother had been at work, leaving the house all for him.

Henry opened the screen door as he went toward the table. During the week, he had gathered what he could find. It wasn't that he had been the only one who drank. Sitting at the wooden table, he opened a beer. Stick sat across, nearly finishing the bottle in five minutes.

"How did I go from being the golden boy into a murderer?" Stick mumbled as he twisted the glass bottle around in his hands.

Stick had always thought highly of himself, but not anymore. Tears slid down his cheeks as he opened his third bottle, while Henry still hadn't finished his own.

"No soccer team will want a killer on their team," Stick murmured. "No more scholarships for me."

"Just try to ignore it by thinking of something else," Henry said.

"I can't," Stick mumbled, shaking his head.

Stick needed to get his head back into the game, if he still wanted to help on Greyson's side. Soon enough, he may end up being killed by Luke.

Henry wanted to run things his own way, but that could only happen with Greyson. The door opened to Finn, who had a red mark across his cheek. Vickie's death affected him for a few days, but he got past it. There were other worries than just the girl who died. After Jason and Greyson disappear, it will be him at the end of May.

It wasn't that he missed his mom and his older brother Tyler; it just came with that freedom. Doing whatever now with the mix of rules and punishments.

"Did you bring Devon back?" Finn asked breathlessly, freckles covering his face.

"We left him there," Henry stated.

Finn seemed to panic at that line. Maybe it wasn't his smartest idea, but he wanted to follow his own orders.

"Aren't you supposed to be on highway security?" Henry asked.

Finn nodded, looking around his house. The fifth grader had become part of his circle, along with the witness to the murder.