I can't believe the news today . . .

This morning's batch was almost too bitter, but it was still coffee. Darry gulped it down, trying not to grimace. It was quiet for once. Uncomfortably so. He cracked open a window, the robins providing quiet back round noise.

Sighing, Darry turned back to the clock on the wall. Almost eight. Soda would be up soon. He set his mug down on the counter and headed to the door for the paper.

The peaceful morning was immediately ruined. A huge picture of a bloody Soc girl's body sat deviously on the front page, its bolded headline screaming, Killer Strikes Again!

He picked it up and headed to the kitchen table, brow furrowing as he read the article.

Last week, convicted murderer Amandi Montresor escaped from the Tulsa Corrections Department. And he hasn't wasted a moment of his seven days of freedom. On Wednesday, an unidentifiable body was found in the gutter, and last night, sources found his second victim: one Tamora Emery.

"There's not a doubt in my mind it's Montresor," says Officer Dunham, local Sheriff, "We've seen it before."

Investigators interviewed the parents of Miss Emery. Her father claimed she had done nothing to provoke any kind of murder. Mrs. Emery refused to comment.

"If Montresor is behind this, there has to be a reason," Detective Hitchcock claims, "He always has a motive. These murders, they're just the first step. He's looking for someone. He won't stop until he gets his hands on whoever that someone is."

No news yet on Montresor's whereabouts. Police are searching everywhere, looking for leads. Anyone with any information should call their local police department immediately.

Darry threw down the paper with a sigh. Just the first step, huh? Seemed like this Montresor was turning up everywhere, and he apparently wasn't leaving any time soon.

"Morning, Dar." Soda stumbled from his bedroom, yawning big enough to turn his head inside out. "What's new in the world today?"

"Another murder." Darry stood up to get another cup of coffee.

"That black guy again?"

"Yeah."

"Who'd he kill this time?"

"Some Socy girl."

"Well, if he's going after Socs, he probably wants money or something. We got nothing to worry about."

"Don't you dare say that."

Soda looked up, frowning at the venom in his voice. "What?"

"Just because she was a Soc doesn't mean we can just brush this off. He's a serial killer, Soda, he doesn't care who he kills. It could be any one of us next time."

"Don't you dare say that." Soda crossed the room quickly, pointing an angry finger in his face. "We're falling apart as it is. You keep saying crap like that and Pony's gonna freak. That's the last thing he needs right now."

"You think I don't know that? I'm not all brawn and no brains, Sodapop."

"Oh, really? Sometimes I have to wonder."

Darry's fists clenched. "You little --"

"What's going on?"

They both looked up as Ponyboy quietly entered the kitchen, looking confused.

"Oh, hey, kiddo." Darry backed away from his brother, trying to look casual. "Didn't hear you come in."

Pony bit his lip. "Why were you fighting?"

"Fighting?" Soda threw in carelessly, walking to the fridge, avoiding eye contact. "Why do you say fighting?"

"I . . ." Pony sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Never mind."

-0-0-0-

"Mr. Curtis?"

Darry looked down from where he sat on the roof, nailing in boards. Mr. Stokes stood with his hand shielding his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Meet me in my office, please. I need to talk to you."

Darry frowned. Had he done something wrong? Carefully, he set down his hammer and climbed down the ladder, following Mr. Stokes into the building. "Whaddya need, Boss?" he asked when they made it to the office.

"Sit down, Darrel." Stokes waved at the chair in front of his desk.

Darry obeyed.

"You know, you're one of my best workers here. You work hard, you get the job done, and I respect you for that."

"Well, thanks, sir." He scrutinized his boss, wondering where this was going. Stokes looked nervous, distracted. About what?

"Have you ever thought about taking a vacation?"

Darry blinked. "Erm . . . What?"

"A vacation. I think you need one. I'm thinking of taking one myself, actually."

Well, this was unexpected. "Sir, you know my situation. I need this job, I can't just take a break."

"I'll pay your regular salary while you're gone."

"But my brothers . . . Pony's got school to worry about, and Soda needs his paycheck --"

"I can pay your brother, too."

"Sir!" Darry half laughed, "This is crazy. I don't need a vacation that badly."

"Well . . ." he was sweating now, fingers tapping the desk anxiously. "Don't you ever think it'd be nice to get out of the town?"

"Frequently, Boss. But I'm not financially ready to do that."

"I'm offering you a way out."

Darry sighed. "Why?"

Stokes' fingers froze for an instant, and he put on a fake smile. "You deserve it, kiddo."

Liar. He was hiding something, it was plain as day. "Let me talk to my brothers. I'll get back to you tomorrow."

Stokes still looked apprehensive, but he nodded.