Chapter 10: The Rumble

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Riff snapped his fingers and the lights turned on. 

The salt shed was large and open, with mounds of salt in giant piles. Most of the Sharks we're looking around uneasily and Riff felt a twinge of pride at the fact that he'd managed to get the rumble somewhere he knew and the Sharks didn't. 

"Welcome to the North Pole." Ice announced from next to the lever that controlled the lights, also noticing the Sharks unfamiliarity with the location. "It's salt. For when the streets ice up." 

One of the Sharks, Braulio - yeah, Riff knew his name - turned to the others and said something in quick Spanish. 

Mouthpiece apparently found this annoying, so he turned to the Jets and imitated Braulio, spouting nonsense in a ridiculous accent. 

The Jets laughed, and Riff signaled Big Deal and Numbers to close the closest door. Bernardo did the same to Braulio, saying something else in Spanish. 

Once the doors were all closed and the groups were facing each other again, Riff addressed Ice. 

"Kill the lights." 

The room was dark again. Luckily, there were a few small windows near the ceiling to let in some moonlight, and occasionally a pair of headlights. 

"Where is he?" Bernardo's angry voice asked.

"Hm? What? Who?" Riff asked, feigning ignorance. 

"You know who I mean." Bernardo stepped closer, and the Jets and Sharks formed a circle around the two. "You promised your buddy was gonna be here. If you don't keep your word, jefe, how am I gonna believe you'll keep out of our territory after-"

Riff spotted someone over Bernardo's shoulder and his face must have shown it, because the Shark turned to look. 

A Puerto Rican - not a Shark, Riff was pretty sure his name was either Chino or Gino - moved past the Jets to join the Sharks and have a hushed conversation with Bernardo in Spanish, but Riff was more focused on the other figure by the door.

"And just when all hope is lost." He announced, striding towards Tony and pulling him out of earshot of the Sharks. "So is this The Shot Heard Round theWorld, or just, y'know, more of your bullshit?"

Tony answered in a tone similar to Riff's. "Don't ask me about shootin', pal, you're the one with the gun." 

"That's who I am," Riff continued, "but who're you?" His tone was bitter. "Friend or foe?"

Tony shook his head. "You're outa control-"

He tried to push past Riff, but the shorter shoved him back.

"Hey! I don't need it if you stand with us." He hissed. "Here. Take it." 

He held the gun between them, and Tony looked down at it in surprise. 

"Go on," Riff urged, "it'll be safe with you, and you pitch in." 

Tony tried to keep talking. "I wanna talk to-"

"I'm doin the talkin'." Riff interrupted firmly. 

He shoved the gun into Tony's jacket pocket. And before Tony could say anything else, Riff turned back to Bernardo.

"Let's do it!!" He yelled, and he knew he looked a bit insane, but he didn't care. 

Tony walked up to Bernardo and tried to talk to him quietly. "Hey. Can I talk to you?" 

"Anything you need to say," Riff said pointedly, "you can say it through me." 

Bernardo was looking at Tony with murder in his eyes. "We talked enough. Let's try something else." 

Boy, Boy, Crazy BoyWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu