The rumble tonight, man. There was no way I wasn't going to be in it. We had to get even with those socs, I had to get even with them. If it wasn't for them none of this would ever have happened, and I didn't care about much of it. I only cared about Johnny. I knew this about myself. Everything and everybody could go to hell, the socs and the cops and my folks and this whole damn city could go to hell. But if it wasn't for the damn socs Johnny wouldn't be hurt like he was, and I'd make them pay.
I was in the hospital bed, bored out of my skull. I was fine. My arm was burned, yeah, but it didn't matter. I had another one. It was still light out, Ponyboy and Two-bit had just left. I turned Two-bit's switch around in my hand, watching the light shine off of it. If anyone gave me a problem about leaving this place this fancy little knife would change their minds.
I pulled on my jeans and a shirt, pulled on my boots, tucked the switchblade into my back pocket. I winced when I put the shirt on and it brushed against my arm, winced when I tried to move it and make a fist. Maybe I was more hurt than I figured, but it didn't matter. If I had to crawl to that fucking rumble I would. I'd kill those socs anyway I could.
But first I had to see Johnny. I took a deep breath and looked out into the hall. The light outside was fading fast. Time was running out, I felt that. I went from room to room, looking for him. I found the room, finally, and I walked right in. Johnny lay silent and still on the bed, and I saw everything, the oxygen tubing in his nose and the IV's in his arms and the burns and the machines near him monitoring just about everything. I would have thought he was dead except I could see him breathing.
"Johnny, hey kid, Johnny, wake up," I said, kneeling down by the bed, resting my hand on his arm where he wasn't burned. He stirred and opened his eyes, but only about half-way. He looked to me like he could barely open them, but he looked at me and smiled his crooked little smile.
"Hey, Dal," he said, pushing each word out, and his voice was all scratchy from the smoke.
"Hey, it's the rumble tonight, and I'm going," I told him, and his eyes shut, and he nodded.
"Yeah, I'm going and I'm gonna stomp those socs for you, don't you worry, Johnny," I could feel myself kind of rambling, and I could hear my tone of voice becoming oddly calm when I was really frantic. I watched Johnny take these shallow breaths and wince every so often in pain and the machines would sometimes beep crazily like something was wrong and I could hear all the noises from these machines and from Johnny struggling to catch his breath, and I was convinced that he was gonna die and I couldn't let that happen but I didn't know how I could stop it. I wanted him to open his eyes, so I shook him gently. He did open them, struggling to do it but he opened them wider than before and tried to sit up but of course he couldn't, and the effort exhausted him.
"Listen, Dal," he said, his voice so soft now, and I leaned close to him to hear, "come back later, and, uh, bring Ponyboy, okay?"
"Yeah, I will, I promise," I said, and I glanced outside. It was fully dark now. I'd have to go. Johnny didn't look so good. He was real pale, and his breathing was erratic, and the machines kept beeping more and more, and I could hear people heading this way, so I ducked out. Standing in the doorway, seeing nurses and doctors heading toward his room, my heart starting to pound, I said, "see ya," and I left.
I ran through the night, and it was one of those black ones with no moon, and the air felt heavy, like it was gonna rain. I kept running. I had to get there, I had to beat those socs into oblivion. I owed it to Johnny. Damn them. Damn me. Why wasn't I there when he had needed me, like that night at the fountain, like that day in the lot? Had I really let him down? I ran, and ran, and I could hardly breathe and my arm was throbbing but I kept going. My breath was tearing through my lungs and my side was aching and still I wasn't any closer but I kept going. I had to. I couldn't stop. I couldn't keep letting Johnny down.
I reached the lot and everybody was there, they were all lined up facing each other like people in one of those old wars where everyone knew who they were fighting, everybody knew what they were there to do.
