Crazy Dangerous Read Free

yeah?” I said—and, okay, it wasn’t exactly a brilliant comeback, but it was all I could think of under the circumstances.
    And of course Jeff answered, “Yeah. In the future, Sam, I think maybe you ought to run someplace else. Anyplace else. This isn’t your place anymore. This is our place. It’s our place and we don’t want you here.”
    Through the red haze of my anger, I began to understand what was going on. My eyes moved back over the trees and the bushes around us. It was a dark, lonesome spot up here. You could sit in the underbrush and no one would ever see you or find out what you were up to. So I guess Jeff and his pals were up to stuff they shouldn’t have been up to, and they didn’t want me or anyone else to see.
    “Okay,” I said. “Okay, I get it.”
    “Good,” said Jeff.
    “Sure. You guys want to be left alone. And that’s fine with me. Really. I don’t want to bother you. I don’t want to bother anyone. I don’t care what you’re doing here. I don’t know what it is and I don’t want to know. And I’m sure not gonna report you to anyone or anything. I just want to go for my run, that’s all, okay?”
    “Sure,” said Jeff with another laugh. “Sure, you can go for your run. You can go for your run anytime you want. Just not here, Sam. This is not your place, I’m telling you. This is our place now.”
    Just so I’m sure you have the picture here. Them: three big tough guys. Me: one little guy, not tough. Place: middle of nowhere. Raise your hand if you know what the smart thing to do would have been. Right. I should have smiled and said, “Okay, Jeff, sorry to intrude,” and shut up and run off on my way just as fast as my legs would carry me.
    Instead, I said: “Forget it, Jeff. This is where I run. I like it. I’m not getting chased off. No way.”
    Jeff gave what sounded like a grunt of surprise. He looked over his shoulder at his buddies. He looked back at me.
    Then, so fast I had no time to react, he grabbed hold of the front of my sweatshirt. While he was at it, he grabbed a handful of my chest as well. He dragged me toward him.
    “Listen . . . ,” he started to say.
    I punched him in the face.
    I didn’t mean to. Okay, I did mean to. Of course I meant to. It’s not the sort of thing you do to someone by accident. What I’m trying to say is: I didn’t plan it. I just got so angry when he grabbed hold of me that I sort of automatically let fly.
    My fist cracked into Jeff’s cheek, right under his eye. I didn’t connect very hard, but it was hard enough, a good solid, stinging jab. And, of course, Jeff wasn’t expecting it—not at all. He was so startled, he actually let go of me and staggered back a step. He grabbed his cheek and just stood there, stunned.
    They were all stunned. Jeff and Ed P. and Harry Mac. They all just stood there for that long second, staring, as if they couldn’t believe what had happened. Which they probably couldn’t.
    And you know what? I couldn’t believe it either. I was stunned too, totally taken by surprise. I just stood there, staring at Jeff and the others.
    Then—out of nowhere it seemed—there came a loud, high shriek. It pierced the air, deafening. I didn’t know what it was at first, but whatever it was, it sort of jolted me awake. My brain started working again.
    And my brain said to me: Uh, Sam? Run for your life!
    Which is exactly what I did.

2

A Game of Chicken
     
    Harry Mac made a grab at me, but too late, he missed. I took off along the ridge. Jeff and Ed P. and Harry Mac charged after me. When I looked back, I could tell by the expressions on their faces that they were determined to catch me and take their revenge. They were gaining on me too. Especially Harry Mac. He was a muscleman, like I said, and a lot of times guys like that aren’t flexible enough to move well or run fast. But just my luck, Harry Mac was plenty flexible, and it turned out he could run like the wind. He was running like the wind, in