The Fort (Aric Davis)

the wall. It seemed an eternity since his chase with Amy had reached its conclusion with the two of them tumbling down these steps, but it had been only a few hours earlier.
    He came slowly off of the last step and looked at the cause of all of this. She was bound as she’d been when he left her, and he could tell that she was at least temporarily resigned to her imprisonment. The pole she was attached to had been painted red, and if she’d been trying to escape, there would have been paint shavings on the ground and on her hands.
    Amy was either asleep or pretending to be so, and Hooper wanted to wake her so that he could discuss his injury with her, as well as the need to punish her for her attempted escape earlier that morning. He couldn’t fault her for trying to get away, but it was still a behavior that needed to be broken from her, just like one would teach a child not to interrupt, or not to speak with a mouth full of food.
    Hooper watched her lying there, beautiful in such a perfect way, and he decided that he’d let her sleep. He left the glass of water next to her, then made his way slowly up the stairs before shutting off the light.
    It was still light outdoors, but Hooper ignored the window. He sat down heavily on the sofa, after turning on the TV. He had little use for the thing, especially right after one of his little hunting trips, but this was different. After all, Amy was here. He let his mind focus on the screen, and found a news station. There were boring stories about Iraq—who could possibly care?—and then, finally, his story. He beamed at the screen. They had found the body he’d left at the drive-in. Everything was coming together perfectly, except for getting shot. They’ll figure out time of death soon enough, and then they’ll decide whoever claims to have shot me is full of shit. It had been hard work, stealing a girl Amy’s size, killing her, smashing her teeth with a hammer, then burning her and leaving her in a shallow grave, but all the effort had been worth it.

29
    When Luke’s mom finally came home, it was dark out and she was wasted. Luke had to help carry her to the couch. She fell asleep almost instantly, rolling over and then snoring. Ashley and Alisha had just watched him help her, moving off the couch only when it became obvious that was where Luke meant to put her. There was something depressing about having a mom who was too much of a wreck to even punish him, and Luke left her there to walk back to his room.
    When Van Endel had come back to the room to tell him he was leaving with the Benchleys, Luke had been confused. Van Endel and that doctor lady had never even come back to talk to him. By the time he saw Mrs. Benchley and how furious she was, Luke had figured out most of it, all but the part about their finding Molly. That’s where they were wrong, though. The body they found couldn’t have been Molly. Mrs. Benchley had said that Molly had been dead for days, but that wasn’t true, they had all seen her, and not one of them had questioned whether or not it was her. Why would they lie about something so terrible? A kidnapped kid, even a kidnapped teenager, was no laughing matter, and for Tim’s and Scott’s parents to think their kids capable of such a thing was almost as terrible as his own mother’s condition.
    Reviewing everything in his head, Luke figured it was likely that both Tim and Scott were going to be grounded for lengthy periods of time. Which left a whole separate issue: Molly. Mrs. Benchley had said that the body they found had been burned days earlier. How long would it take to check her fingerprints, or her teeth, if she was too badly burned, and realize they had the wrong girl? Too long. And really, any amount of time was too long. They knew three things. Molly wasn’t dead, or at least she hadn’t been this morning; the person who took her likely lived in the same area as they did, probably in Tim and Scott’s neighborhood; and, most importantly, he had a gunshot wound in his right leg.
    School was going to be a mess. They were headed for seventh grade and were likely to be branded as liars, a tag that would stick through the end of high school. After all, who would forget something like this? It was clear what needed to happen. They needed to find out where she’d been taken and see if she was still there. And either way, at that point, get the cops involved again, to save Molly, along with their reputations.
    But how am I going