Chapter 1
Summer 1990 - Six Months Later
EZRA
My heart raced as I stepped through the school doors. The familiar sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, yet I still felt isolated - my ankle monitor set me apart from everyone else. Its gray casing clung to my skin like a reminder that I was not accessible.
The weight of the metal box seemed to increase with every step, and the thick black band around my ankle wasn't soft or malleable like fabric; it was dense and stiff-unforgiving. As if it weren't enough to feel like a drug dealer in this place, I had to deal with this constant reminder of my imprisonment.
Jesse and Derrick ambushed me, their cackles echoing through the halls. "Hey, ankle monitor, how was your summer vacation?" one of them said, poking me in my chest. All I could do was clench my fists and hold my breath, forcing down the wave of humiliation coursing through me. I looked around desperately for help but found no solace in the empty hallways. My captors were closing in.
The jocks crowded around me, trapping me in the dark hallway. I could feel their hot breath on my face, and my heart began to race.
"Cat got your tongue?" Derrick taunted, inching closer. I stepped back, but they followed me, the jocks' eyes glinting with malice. Panic rose as a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me closer.
"Leave me alone," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. They burst into laughter, and I knew I had to act fast before things got out of hand—before Hazell saw and went back on his murdering spree again.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again, I looked straight at the jock holding me. Something in my gaze must have startled him because he paused momentarily, giving me enough time to twist out of his grip. Acting quickly, I threw a clumsy punch that caught him off guard and knocked him back. Blood instantly dripped down his chin like a red rope of meat. The metallic scent of it filled the air, along with the stunned silence of the other jocks.
Without pausing for breath, I took off sprinting down the hallway, the metal band on my ankle rattling with every step. Fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins until I finally reached the school exit and burst through the doors into the bright sunlight of freedom.
Standing there, my chest heaving, the ankle monitor digging into my calf, I felt a surge of emotions sweep over me. I savored a taste of freedom for a brief moment until Hazell's voice shattered the illusion, yanking me back to reality. Whipping around, I stared at him, fear wide in my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs like a drum. "Ezra, wait!" Hazell's urgent plea propelled me into a frantic sprint.
Despite the crickets chirping, my pulse roared in my ears, drowning out all other noise. Each step Hazell took toward me only intensified the pounding in my chest—the rush of blood in my veins. I struggled to rein in the fear clawing at me from within.
"What happened?" Hazell's question cut through the night air. I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing," I muttered, my voice unconvincing even to my ears. But the tremble in my hands and the terror in my eyes betrayed me. Hazell knew better with just one look.
I glanced up at my brother, his face full of concern. The words tumbled out before I could stop them: "Did they hurt you?"
I shook my head, trying to give him the false assurance he wanted. The cicadas in the nearby football field droned like a distant orchestra, but I was too afraid to look around, knowing that someone could recognize me and start asking questions at any moment.
Hazell's arm felt heavy against my shoulder as he tried to protect me from the world, even though we were both shackled by ankle monitors. My attempt at humor didn't reach his ears; instead, it hung like a forgotten dream. But his response comforted me - he wouldn't take revenge on anyone for what had happened.
He said we could get through this challenging time if we kept our heads down and stayed out of trouble. But how could I do that when there were reminders of what had happened everywhere I looked? I wanted to forget it and return home, but I knew that wasn't an option.
"No more killing," I declared, hoping Hazell would comply.
"Scout's honor," he replied as he saluted me lazily. "I swear to stay away from them, so long as they don't cause trouble."
Yeah, famous last words.
But for now, I couldn't dwell on that. We had to make it through the night with no more incidents. Hazell and I started walking, leaving the football field and the cicadas behind us. We talked a little, but the silence was comforting in its way. We walked until we reached a small convenience store, the neon lights casting an eerie glow on the sidewalk.
As we walked inside, the cashier eyed us with suspicion. It was a look we were used to, but it still stung. We grabbed some snacks and drinks and went to the counter, our ankle monitors rattling again.
The cashier glared at us as we approached. "I need to see ID for those," she snarled, gesturing to the cigarettes we grabbed. We exchanged a look before Hazell pulled out his forged ID and handed it to her. She checked it with a sneer before reluctantly ringing us up and shoving the cigarettes into a brown paper bag. We walked out of the store, Hazell holding the bag.
We continued walking as the neon lights of the convenience store faded behind us. The night was dark and quiet, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I looked around nervously, my heart pounding in my chest. Hazell grabbed my arm, pulling me back from the curb as a car sped past, the driver and passengers blasting music and honking his horn, and bullets aimlessly ricocheting in our direction. The car disappeared into the night, and we continued walking, our footsteps echoing through the empty streets.
Suddenly, Hazell stopped in his tracks, his grip tightening on the paper bag. "Ezra, get down!" he hissed, pulling me to the ground with him, but instead of circling back, the car screeched away like a coward.
We lay there for a few moments, our heartbeats pounding in our ears as we tried to catch our breath. Hazell's grip on my arm was tight, but I didn't mind. I needed the reassurance that I wasn't alone in this. I looked up at him, his face illuminated by the moonlight. "What the hell was that?" I whispered, my voice shaking with fear.
"That's it! I'm going to kill those son's of bitches!" Hazell roared. I could see the fear in his eyes. We both knew we weren't safe here; we were constantly being watched, and that danger lurked around every corner. We got up and dusted ourselves off. We knew we had to keep moving, to keep our heads down, and to stay out of trouble.
