He walked out the door of the house and onto the front porch. All he needed was a cigarette then he could go back in and join his brothers. The funeral was tomorrow; everyone was on edge. He leaned against a post on the porch smoking, lazily letting the haze spiral into the early morning air. It was still winter, the sun still coming up later into the morning and it didn't help the chill that followed the night.
Ponyboy eventually stubbed his cigarette out beneath his high tops, and put his hands in his pockets. He sighed. He still wasn't ready to go into the house and face Darry. After contemplating smoking a second cigarette, Ponyboy decided maybe he'd feel better after taking a walk. He glanced back at the house, wondering for a moment if he should tell Darry, but decided against it; it would do him no good to talk to Darry, he'd just tell him no. He stepped off the porch and headed down the street, not looking back as he walked towards the lot. Maybe he'd find Johnny there.
About ten minutes into his walk, Pony started to get nervous. He didn't know why, but he felt like he was being followed. He checked the area, glancing over his shoulder and eyeing the street ahead of himself. There was nothing. As he continued to walk, he couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching him. He decided to turn back and head for home, and he quickened his pace as he started in the opposite direction. His senses heightened, he kept checking his surroundings, though trying to be discreet about it.
All of a sudden, he heard the unmistakable sound of a Mustang pulling up alongside him, the snickering laughter of the Socs making him nervous. "Hey, Greaser." The blond driver sneered, one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the car window, fingers tapping away at the side of the vehicle, the ping ping ping sounding like gunfire in his head. "Nice morning for a walk isn't it, Greaser?" Ponyboy kept walking, barely looking in their direction, though he did notice the way 'Greaser' slithered from the Soc's mouth. "Aw, c'mon Greaser, we're just talking, right James?" He smiled at the younger boy sitting in the seat beside him.
Pony didn't answer, he just wanted to get home. Why had he said left? Why didn't he just keep his mouth shut; it was always getting him in trouble. "Maybe we could walk with you little Grease." One of the guys in the backseat commented. "Shame you're out here all by your lonesome."
Ponyboy swallowed hard and upped his pace, the car also quickening it's speed. "I think we should join you. Can't be too careful." The second one in the back agreed. As they leapt from the car, Ponyboy took off at a run, but they were too fast, and there were too many. The driver had stopped the vehicle and clamored out with the rest of them; four against one. Two of them grabbed his arms, the other two, his legs. Ponyboy tried to fight, and though the day was beginning, the sun starting to peek over the horizon, no one noticed, or at least, no one tried to stop them. Pony yelled, but one of the Socs clapped a hand over his mouth. They got him on the ground, each taking a turn getting their digs in, his ribs burning with each blow. Fists and feet came at him from all directions and he scrambled and fought against them; it was useless. They laughed and sneered at him as they beat at his body, until they were satisfied, and Pony lie on the hard ground, not daring to move. And as they left him, shivering and in pain, he heard one of them say under his breath. "Told you it wasn't safe out here on your own, Greaser."
Eventually, as he heard them drive off, he felt himself growing weak, the pain worsening as he tried to move. The darkness overwhelmed him at some point, and he wasn't sure how long had passed before he heard Johnny's voice, though he couldn't open his eyes to greet it. Later on, Darry and Two-Bit, then Soda and Steve. Reality settled around him and he forced his eyes open, squinting against the light that had turned night into day