A Shot For Vengeance
Chapter One
Vengeance
The weather was perfect, blue sky over head with a few puffy white clouds floating by. Just perfect for what was to come, as far as everyone in the stands and on the red clay track below thought to themselves. Warm up's were done. The runners took their marks, crouching low in their stances, muscles tightly wound like coils of a spring. Everything was quiet for a moment just before the starters pistol went off, then the group of eight boys...young men in the making, really, shot out of their respective starting blocks as the gun discharged.
They headed down the field, a separation in them beginning to happen as they made their way around the first turn. The group spread out, the fastest in the lead and the slowest bringing up the rear. They weren't separated by much, though, just slices off a second really. These were the fastest kids in the state, assembled here after much local and regional competition to determine who the fastest runner of all really was.
In the stands was the Lt. Governor, fulfilling a side duty to his daily responsibilities. He hated being out here in the sun, watching adolescents run around in circles. But the Governor couldn't attend, so he was officially asked to go. So here he was, a fake smile pressed to his sweaty face as he watched the kids running along below him from his VIP booth, just under the overhang that provided some semblance of shade.
Also in attendance- and more important to the actual athletes, were the family members. There were the regular friends who showed up for support, fellow track runners that didn't place high enough to compete, girlfriends with their own agenda's and, most importantly, scouts. College scouts. Everyone was here to impress.
The sound of a gun firing was heard again, and at that moment, confusion- followed by panic set in. Within the echo of that second shot ringing out, most of the runners didn't understand why the official with the starting gun would accidentally fire again, as they were already well past a false start situation. The runners had already gone well past the far curve of the track and were now headed up the longer side of the oval.
Another fraction of time passed and people set off in different directions, screaming in panic as everyone seemed to understand at that same instant that it wasn't the official with the starter's pistol firing by accident. There was someone else present, somewhere among them - taking aim at someone else, but no one knew who. Only the shooter knew who his target was, and that he had made his mark.
The aides to the Lt. Governor shielded him then pushed their way out of the open, into the cover of waiting cars to escape to safety. The runners themselves were diving under anything they could use for protection. Spectators headed in mass for the now- jammed exits out of the stands. Families of runners either stood in stunned confusion as to what was going on or were making bee lines to their young athletes, still crouching below on the track. One group of young men in particular ducked and wove their way through the crowds surging around them, then sprinted up the red clay to the youth sprawled face down on the ground, not moving. He had been the leader of the runners, was in first place position before a bullet lodged itself into his body. He was the only one hit that day, and hadn't moved in the few moments since falling face down onto the red track beneath his feet.
Soda reached him first, covering his brother with his own body and looking around for who ever had done this. Darry skidded to a stop and kneeled down too, looking closely at Ponyboy's ashen face before attempting to turn him over. The heavy breathing and pounding footsteps around them told them Steve and Two-Bit had arrived as well.
"Pony? Can you hear me?" Darry called to his brother, but no answer was given. As Darry and Soda turned him over, they saw the pooled blood under him, and noticed his teeth were stained with the red liquid of life as well.
"Oh Christ! Darry! Shit!"
Darry had stripped off his shirt, buttons flying in different directions as he ripped it off and pressed it against Pony's stomach. It looked like the bullet hit him just above the navel, but thankfully well below his heart. He still had a chance. Pony's eyes were open, and Soda looked directly into them. The pupils were so large, though, that all you could see was a slender ring of green around the huge black dots in the middle.
"Soda," Pony sputtered, bright red blood spraying Soda's cheek as he bent down to hear Pony's faint words.
"I'm here, Pony. We're all here. You're gonna be okay, you hear me kiddo? This ain't nothin." Soda was holding it together, he had no choice. Who ever had done this was not in sight, had probably joined the throngs of other spectators as everyone fled the stadium. An ambulance was coming across the field, along with the cops. Photographers, once bored by yet another high school track meet they had to cover, were now tripping over themselves to capture this gruesome moment in black and white photography. "This ain't nothin. Stay with me, kiddo. This ain't your time. Damn it, Ponyboy, you hear me? This ain't your time!"
"I ca... can't feel my feet, Sss Soda." Pony went limp, and spoke no more.
The ambulance workers jumped out and pushed everyone away, scooping up the young runner and depositing him in the back of the ambulance. It happened so fast in fact that the brothers had been left behind, pushed away by well meaning emergency medical technicians who's sole focus was the young patient in their hands. Darry and Soda turned to the nearest cop demanding help, and was told to go to meet the ambulance at Oklahoma City General Hospital. A fast set of directions later, and the group of four peeled out of the stadium parking lot, headed North to the freeway that would lead them there.
"Who would do this?" a stunned Soda asked in general, staring at his brother's blood, now drying in small cakes under and along his nails as well as along the roughened skin of his hands.
"Robert Sheldon, Sr." Darry answered. Right away, everyone knew and understood. Sheldon said he'd get even, no matter what it took. Taking Ponyboy's life was the only thing he could take. As the four arrived at the hospital, they wondered if Sheldon had finally accomplished what he set out to do. And if Sheldon hadn't actually killed him, what condition would he be left in? The haunting last words Ponyboy spoke rang in everyone's ears...
"I can't feel my feet."
XXX
Calla Lilly Rose