The room erupted in laughter.
“Lift him up,” Wrecker ordered.
Fox and Thorn hauled him upright again.
“I’m going to give you one chance,” Wrecker said quietly.“One.Tell me where your friends are.”
Timmy spat in his face.
Wrecker wiped it off slowly with the handkerchief.“That was the wrong answer.”He turned to Junior.“Take out the trash.”
Junior stepped forward.
“Wait!”Timmy screamed.“Wait!”
“I’ll help,” I said.
Wrecker grabbed my arm.“No.”
“I want to—”
“Cole,” Dad said firmly.“Listen to your president.”
Junior told Fox to undo the cuff.
The second Timmy was free, he tried to bolt.
Junior laid him out in one clean motion.
Lights out.
He nodded to Mason.“Help me.”
They dragged Timmy out.
“Why can’t I help?”I demanded.
“Because you don’t need his blood on your hands,” Wrecker said.“You’re too young for that.”
Dad put an arm around my shoulders.“This is the right way, son.”
Mason came back alone.
“Is it done?”I asked.
He shook his head.“Nah.Junior left with him.”
Something twisted in my gut.
But then Mason said quietly, “Once you get blood on your hands, you never wash it off.Leave it to Junior.”
And I understood.
The power came back on thirty seconds later.We all looked up at the cameras that started blinking again.
“One down,” Clash said.“Still three out there.”
“And possibly Northbound,” I added.
