1985

"Forget it, Shawn!" Gus snapped, digging his heels into the soft earth of Shawn's front yard stubbornly. "I'm not playing Goonies! Just because you saw it fourteen times--"

"Eighteen." Shawn corrected him, tossing his friend his very favorite Knight Rider backpack. "Here. You can carry our supplies."

"You saw it four times without me?" Gus asked, looking hurt as he caught the backpack and reluctantly slipped it over his shoulder.

"That's not the point, Gus." Shawn cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject before Gus found out the actual number was closer to 22. "The point is The Goonies went treasure hunting! Why can't we? We're totally better treasure hunters than them! We'll be rich!"

"Where would we even go?" Gus demanded. "There's no buried treasure in Santa Barbara."

"That's why we have to find a map first." Shawn told him.

"Where are we going to find a map?"

Shawn paused, apparently not having thought that far ahead.

"The map store?"

"There's no map store, Shawn." Gus sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Then where does my dad get all those road maps?" Shawn demanded.

Gus shrugged, absently fumbling with the straps on the backpack, which was heavier than he expected.

"I don't know." He mumbled. "Probably Triple-A."

"My dad's not an alcoholic!"

"Shawn, Triple-A is--"

But Gus didn't have a chance to explain the subtle differences between AAA and AA. Shawn snapped his fingers, a brilliant idea suddenly occurring to him.

"The gas station!" He exclaimed. "I saw him buy a map at the gas station down the street! I bet they have treasure maps, too!"

"Yeah, Shawn." Gus snorted sarcastically. "I'm sure the gas station sells treasure maps. They're right next to the Skittles…"

"Dude!" Shawn grinned, his eyes growing wide. "We should totally get Skittles while we're there, too! You can't treasure hunt without Skittles!"

"Shawn--"

"Do you have a better idea for how to spend our Saturday?" Shawn demanded, not about to hear Gus' arguments.

Gus sighed in defeat.

Of course he didn't have a better idea.

He never had a better idea.

"No." He mumbled.

"Then, let's go to the gas station and buy a treasure map!"

"Fine…"

There was no point in fighting it anymore.

Shawn always won in the end, anyway…

They rode their bikes down the street, parking them next to the gas pumps and leaving their helmets dangling from the handle bars as they headed inside. The only car in the gas station parking lot was a beat-up Toyota, which was parked at the far end.

"Grab the Skittles." Shawn told Gus as they opened the door. "I'll ask about treasure maps."

He started to walk to the front counter, but stopped when he passed the only other customer in the store. He was a tall man with long, scraggily hair and a long, pink scar across his forehead. He was flipping through the magazines, his eyes shifting nervously around the store. Shawn stared at him for a long moment, certain he had seen him somewhere before.

But where…?

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the mental picture he had of the man's face…and that scar…

I know I've seen that scar before…

…at the police station with Dad…

…in a picture…

He gasped and opened his eyes again, suddenly realizing where he had seen the man before.

In a Wanted poster at the SBPD.

He could even see the words at the bottom: JOHN MARKINSON, WANTED FOR ARMED ROBBERY AND MURDER

Shawn slowly backed away from the man, who was still flipping through the magazines and didn't seem to even notice his presence.

He found Gus by the candy, debating between Skittles and Snickers.

"Which is better for treasure hunting?" He asked when he saw Shawn, holding the two options up for his friend's approval.

"Gus." Shawn hissed, his voice low and trembling. "We have to get out of here! I have to find my dad!"

"Why?"

"Because…" Shawn continued, still whispering as his eyes looked over at John Markinson again. "I think that guy is wanted for murder. I saw him on a poster at the police station."

Gus' eyes grew wide in terror.

"Really?" He whispered back. "Or is this like the time you thought the principal was an alien?"

"No, Gus! This is real! I have to get my--"

As if on cue, Henry's truck pulled into the parking lot. He pulled up to the door and got out, clearly already steaming mad about something. Shawn was glad to see he was dressed in his uniform, complete with his gun and cuffs.

He stormed in, immediately spotting Shawn and Gus by the candy.

"Shawn!" he shouted, marching over to them. "What the hell are you doing here? I've been driving all over looking for you two! You know you're not supposed to leave the yard without telling me where you're going! If I hadn't seen your bikes out there--"

"Dad!" Shawn interrupted him, still watching Markinson, who had clearly noticed that the previously quiet store now had an armed officer of the law in it.

"No, Shawn!" Henry snapped, not about to listen to more of his son's excuses. "Get your bikes. We're going home."

He spun on his heel to march out the door, but Markinson had come up behind him during his lecture.

"All right, cop." He growled, pulling a gun out from underneath his shirt and leveling it at Henry temple. "No one's going anywhere."

Henry blinked at the weapon being shoved into his face, but if he felt anything at all resembling fear, he certainly didn't let it show. He slowly stepped back from Markinson, putting himself between the gun and the two terrified boys behind him, his jaw setting firmly.

The clerk behind the counter had ducked out of sight, clearly not about to get involved.

Henry met Markinson's spiteful gaze coolly.

"That's my son." He snapped, his eyes narrowing.

Markinson stepped towards him, cocking the weapon.

"So?"

"So, don't you ever pull a gun on my son and his friend!"

Before Markinson could react, Henry's hand had grabbed the barrel of the gun while his leg swept behind him, knocking Markinson flat on his back and leaving Henry holding the piece. Markinson groaned and tried to roll over, but Henry was already kneeling on the floor next to him, his cuffs in hands.

"Don't you ever pull a gun on my son." He muttered again, snapping the cuffs on and dragging the still stunned Markinson to his feet.

When they reached the door, Henry paused.

"Come on, boys." He growled, looking back at Shawn and Gus, who hadn't budged an inch. "You'll have to make statements downtown."

He glanced at the clerk, who had poked his head up over the top of the counter.

"Don't go anywhere." He ordered. "I'll be back for yours later."

He kicked the door open and stepped outside, bringing Markinson with him.

Shawn and Gus still didn't move. They both had the same unblinking, slack-jawed expressions on their face.

"Dude…" Shawn grinned finally, turning to Gus, who looked like he was about to throw up. "That was so much better than Goonies!"