Darry wasn't entirely sure how to go about this. He still wasn't interested in getting the cops involved, but he was starting to get worried, unsure as to what degree Johnny's father was willing to take all of this. He figured it could go one of two ways: the gun was a threat, loaded or not, or he was going to hurt, maybe even possibly kill Johnny. Either way, they knew Johnny was in for some kind of abuse, and Darry knew he wasn't completely healed from his previous beating. That could mean anything from infection to blood loss to the damage from all the stress this was putting on Johnny's small frame. Darry knew Johnny's father didn't care, and his mother seemed indifferent to anything that happened to her son, sometimes taking her own anger out on the boy.
After much debate, they decided on what they were going to do. They didn't know how or if it was going to work, but they wanted to try one more thing before getting the police involved. None of them wanted to get Johnny sent away to a boy's home, and this was their last hope. Pony was worried Johnny's father would get angry and call the police himself, having the boys arrested for trespassing, or worse, kidnapping. Darry assured Ponyboy that that man wasn't going to invite the cops into his home.
They piled into the car, Darry driving with Pony and Soda in the front next to him, and Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit knee to knee in the back. Darry was glad he had an extended cab truck or they'd all be in the bed. The drive to Johnny's house was tense and no one spoke; the air felt electric, buzzing with both nervousness and anticipation.
Before too long, Darry pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine. They were about a block from Johnny's, Darry's idea, and each of the boys filed out of the vehicle. None of them carried a weapon, which Dallas had protested many times, before Darry finally reminded him he couldn't afford another stint in jail, and that Soda and Pony would surely get taken if they were caught with a blade.
Pony started walking the short block to Johnny's, glancing back at the gang as he made his way down the road. The rest of the guys hung back and watched, keeping out of sight for the moment. Ponyboy was nervous, but he knew the rest of them had his back. Darry was once again happy with his choice to not tell Pony about the gun; he definitely wouldn't go through with the plan if he knew about that. Darry nodded at Pony, letting him know they wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to him, and Soda gave him a small smile. They all tried to be encouraging on the drive, telling Pony how much he would be helping Johnny. Ponyboy wanted to do anything he could for his friend, no matter now afraid he was, and, walking the short distance to Johnny's, he tried to focus only of getting Johnny out of his current situation.
Approaching the front porch, Ponyboy took a deep breath and raised a hand to knock. The boys stayed hidden around the side of the house, waiting in case they needed to come and rescue their youngest member. Ponyboy knocked and waited. He looked to his right, where the boys were watching, peering around the side of the house, and shrugged. Getting acknowledgement from his oldest brother once again, he knocked a second time, a bit harder.
After a moment, he heard movement within the house. His heart began to race and he swallowed nervously. He'd seen the damage done to Johnny and it wasn't very encouraging. When the door opened, he nearly jumped back in surprise, but held his ground. Still, he could feel the sweat trickle between his shoulder blades, felt his voice crack slightly as he spoke. "Um, hi. Can I talk to Johnny, please?" He remembered his manners, one of the things his mother had emphasized as important, especially when speaking to an adult.
"What?" Johnny's father spit. He was clearly inebriated. Ponyboy tried again. "Johnny. Can I see Johnny?"
"NO!" The man shouted, his greasy hair plastered to his forehead, spittle flying from his mouth. He went to slam the door in Ponyboy's face, but Pony stuck out a foot, the door bouncing back towards the inside of the house. "I really need to see Johnny, sir!" He insisted.
Johnny's father squinted at the boy standing in his front door. "What are you playin' at boy?" He roared. A smirk appeared on his face then, the scruff that appeared on his chin seeming to back away in defiance. "I know you. You're one of them Curtis boys!"
Ponyboy felt a deeper fear course through his body. He took a gulp of air. Surely the man wouldn't do anything in broad daylight. The man leaned in closer to Ponyboy, his breath hot on Pony's face, and reached out an arm and grabbed hold of Pony's wrist. "It would do you a whole lot of good to get yourself off of my porch." He hissed through gritted teeth.
"And it would do you a whole lot of good to get your hands off of my brother." A voice came from behind Ponyboy, making him jump. The man in front of him straightened himself to his full height, and Ponyboy glanced over his shoulder to see Darry, arms crossed over his chest, standing directly behind him, the rest of the gang only a step behind Darry. Johnny's father stared into Darry's eyes, like a snake on the prowl. "If I remember correctly, this is my property, and that makes it none of your business."
"You touch my little brother it becomes my business." Darry kept his tone sharp, but steady, an undercurrent of a threat coming through.
"Is that a threat?"
"You can bet on it." Darry moved forward, moving Ponyboy behind him with one arm. Soda came up and wrapped a protective arm around his brother's shoulders. He could feel the fear radiating from his little brother, his heart thumping in his chest. Darry wasn't necessarily one to impose on someone else's property, but once his family was threatened he felt all bets were off. Darry kept moving forward, forcing the older man back into his house. "I know what you've done to Johnny. It would be in your best interest to just let us take him out of this house."
"You can't prove anything." The man snarled, the whiskey on his breath nearly making Darry gag. The house smelled of stale beer and cigarettes.
"I think I can." Darry pushed back. He kept moving farther into the house, the rest of the gang coming up behind him, blocking any chance for an exit. "Two-Bit, Soda, go find Johnny. Take Ponyboy with you."
The boys moved silently around him and into the rest of the house. They figured Johnny would either be in his room or hidden somewhere no so obvious. Even though his father had no idea that the gang would come into the house, he most likely wanted to keep Johnny out of sight. The fact that they hadn't heard Johnny at all worried every member of the gang, though of course that could just be out of fear, which is what they hoped. They didn't want to find Johnny in the same condition as before, but they feared the worst.
"Now, you listen to me, SIR." Darry crept closer to the man, a finger pointed at his chest, nearly jabbing him with it. "You will never touch my brother again. Do you hear me? And as for Johnny? He'd better never feel your eyes on him again, let alone your hands or so help me—" Darry stopped speaking. They had reached the kitchen, where Mr. Cade had placed his hand on the counter. When he brought it in front of his body again, Darry found himself face to face with a gun, most likely the same one he threatened Two-Bit with.
"If I were you, son, I'd collect the rest of your gang and get out of my house!" He enunciated each word, emphasizing his point as his voice rose and rose with each syllable. Darry backed off, retreating until he was in the living room again, his hands in the air, showing that he had no weapon of his own. As tough as Darry was, he knew he was no match for a heater.
"No." A quiet voice came from the inner bowels of the house, becoming louder as it got closer. "NO!" Johnny screamed and threw himself at his father's back.
It happened all at once. The gun went off, a bullet zipping across the room and embedding itself in Darry's left shoulder, sending Darry to the floor, leaning against a wall within the living room, right hand gripping his left shoulder, a grimace settled on his face. Dallas and Steve rushed to his side, making sure it didn't hit anything important. Mr. Cade fell to the floor in a heap, blood seeping from his chest, creating a pool on the wood floor. Johnny stood above him, breathing heavily, looking down at his father. Mr. Cade's breathing was getting more ragged by the second, a gurgling sound coming from deep in his throat, and he lay there, unmoving. Johnny's eyes were wide, disbelief on his face. "I had to." He finally said, his voice a whisper. It was then his father took his last breath. The house was silent.