This couldn't be happening.

Ace started down the hill and I followed, staring questioningly at my little brother. What the hell was he doing here, anyway?

"You wasn't planning on taking the body from us, was you, boys?" Ace asked, squaring his shoulders to face Chris. He was standing tall, his eyes trained on my brother.

Chris had one boy on either side of him. One I recognized as Billy's chubby kid brother, Vern. The other one I wasn't as familiar with. Duchamp, I think his name was. Lachance wasn't in my line of vision, I was concerned with Christopher only.

"You get away, man," Chris said, planting his feet in the ground. "We found him. We got dibs."

Ace huffed beside me. "We better start running, Eyeball. They got dibs."

I laughed. It was sort of maniacal and dry - but I was high, and somehow laughing seemed appropriate. I was in that giddy, vertiginous stage, I think.

"We earned him, man. You guys came in a car," Chris said, his fists clenching. "That's not fair. He's ours."

"That's not fair, he's ours," I repeated mockingly. "Well, not anymore." This was so stupid. Ace at least had business being there. Chris and his friends didn't. I didn't care if they'd hiked all this way to get to him. Ace deserved to take the body. He had to bring Ray back to Dottie. Chris and them were probably hoping to get on TV or something, same as Vince.

"There's four of us. Eyeball. You just make your move." That was Duchamp, looking all smug and superior. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Oh, we will, don't you worry," Ace assured him.

As if on cue, the rest of our gang appeared behind us at that moment, and I saw the faces of Vern and Duchamp drop. Chris, however, remained stoic.

"Vern, you little son of a whore!" I heard Charlie's voice behind me. "You was under the porch!"

"No! I swear! It wasn't me!" Vern said frantically, shaking his hands out in front of him and backing away slowly.

"You little keyhole-peeping bung." Billy started undoing his belt as he made to run after Vern. "I ought to beat the living shit out of you."

Vern bolted, right into the woods, and Ace held an arm out to keep Billy from going after him. It wasn't Vern he cared about.

I was very aware of Ray's body, about five feet away. And I knew Ace was too. I didn't know how he was holding it together.

"You guys have two choices," Ace said slowly, talking directly to Chris. "You either leave quietly, and we take the body… or you stay and we beat the shit out of you… and we take the body."

"Besides, me and Billy found him first," Charlie added, as if that mattered.

"Yeah, Vern told us how you found him," Duchamp mocked. "Oh Billy! I wish we never boosted that car! Oh Billy, I think I just turned my Fruit of the Looms into a fudge factory." That kid had balls.

"That's it. Your ass is grass," Charlie said, pointing at Duchamp. He started to go after him, but once again, Ace held out an arm.

"Hold it," he said, focusing his attention on Chris again, staring him down . "Okay, Chambers, you little faggot. This is your last chance. What do you say, kid?"

Chris was too stubborn to back down. We locked eyes for a second before he turned his gaze back on Ace. "Why don't you go home and fuck your mother some more?" he retorted softly, not knowing how much of a nerve that would strike with Ace.

And that's when I knew he was in real trouble. I shook my head in disbelief that he would even dare say something like that. It was like he was trying to get himself killed.

There was a quiet pause as we all stared at Ace for his reaction. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade. He flicked it up, pointing it at Chris with a trembling hand. "You're dead."

Once that knife came out, I was pulled from my high almost instantly. I was suddenly very alert, my guard was up.

"Come on, Chris. Let's just split," I heard Duchamp whisper as Ace took a couple of steps forward.

But Chris shook his head. "They're not taking him," he said, his voice shaky but his stance firm.

"Man, this is crazy. He's got a knife!" Duchamp didn't hang around any longer. He bolted into the woods after Vern.

Ace was dangerously close to Christopher now, the knife still out in front of him. I knew he was seeing red, and the panic in my gut was overwhelming when I realized that he wasn't going to show Chris any mercy.

"Ace, come on, man," I tried, but I knew words weren't going to stop him. I was going to have to tackle him - or something - to physically get him away from Christopher. I took a step closer, ready to grab him.

"You're gonna have to kill me, Ace," Chris whispered.

"No problem." Ace reached behind Chris's neck and pulled him closer, the knife at his throat when—

BANG.

A gunshot rang out through the woods and all of us stumbled backwards.

Gordie Lachance was standing with .45 revolver in his hands - my pop's .45 revolver - the gun pointed at the sky. He brought it down slowly, holding it in both hands, aiming it directly at Ace. He stepped closer to Christopher so they were side-by-side.

"You're not taking him. Nobody's taking him," he said, his voice low and firm.

Ace's eyes narrowed. "Come on, kid, just give me the gun before you take your foot off," he said. "You ain't got the sack to shoot a woodchuck." He took a confident step forward.

"Don't move, Ace," Gordie warned, raising the gun slightly so it was pointed right at Ace's chest. "I'll kill you, I swear to God." His voice kept that steady, low tone.

"Come on, Lachance, give me the gun," Ace tried again. "You must have at least some of your brother's good sense."

Gordie breathed deeply at the mention of his brother. My heart felt like ice.

"Suck my fat one you cheap, dime-store hood," Gordie said, never letting the gun drop, never letting his hands shake. It was amazing to me how Gordie sounded so threatening. He was 90 pounds and five-foot-nothing, but he spoke with such conviction that I knew Ace was floored.

"What are you gonna do, shoot us all?"

"No, Ace. Just you."

Ace swallowed, squinting his eyes at Gordie, sizing him up. Then he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I gave him a slight shrug, my heart still thumping rapidly in my chest. I just wanted to split. We should go.

Ace lifted his knife up and pointed at Chris and Gordie. "We're gonna get you for this." His voice sounded so defeated. It made me feel sick.

"Maybe you will and maybe you won't," Chris said mysteriously. He knew they'd won.

"Oh, we will." Ace nodded toward the railroad tracks. Our cue to leave.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Ray again, but I did meet Chris's eyes. I don't know what I saw in his face as I turned to leave, but it looked a little like curiosity. Like he was wondering what we were doing there as much as we were wondering about them. I held his gaze a little longer before letting out a deep breath and walking back up the hill, following the rest of the gang.

"We're not gonna forget this, if that's what you're thinking," I heard Ace from behind me. "This is big time, baby."

I waited at the top of the clearing for Ace as he turned around and sauntered back up the hill. I saw him eye Ray's body as he came up, his face paled, an absolute forlorn expression on his face.

This really was big time.

"This is bullshit," Vince griped back at the cars. "I can't believe those little faggots are going to get all the credit for this. We were going to be on TV."

I knew what was going to happen before it did. Because I saw Ace's hands clench into fists. I saw that bulging vein in the side of his head. And I saw him whirl around to face Vince.

Ace punched him right in the face before any of us could put a stop to it. Completely bashed his nose in.

"You're a fuckin' idiot," Ace snarled. "That ain't what this is about."

The entire gang was frozen, including me. Vince had stumbled to the ground, his hand held up to his nose, cupping blood as it fell from his nostrils. "What the hell, Ace?" he hissed. "Fuck, man." He used his free hand to push up off the ground so he could stand. He was pissed, and I was afraid this would turn into a full-fledged fist fight if I didn't step in.

So that's what I did. I stepped in between them, putting a hand on Vince's chest to keep him from coming any closer. I could hear Ace's ragged breaths behind me, fuming. "You guys should go," I said firmly to Vince and the rest. "Billy, Charlie, go with him."

"But… what…?" Charlie head was tilted, fishing for answers.

"I said go!" I barked at him - at all of them. "Now!"

Billy knew not to mess with me when my voice sounded like that. He pushed both Vince and Charlie in the direction of the car. He took the keys so he could drive while Vince dealt with his bloody nose. The rest piled into the backseat. It was a tight squeeze.

They drove away, a bewildered expression plastered to all of their faces.

Nothing was spoken until they were gone.

And then: "I need to get out of here," Ace said from behind me.

I heard him fumbling with his keys, trying to unlock the driver's door. I turned to look at him. He was breathing heavy, his entire frame was shaking, and tears were threatening to spill out of his eyes. He was drunk, upset, overwhelmed… he was in no condition to drive. Technically, I wasn't either, having smoked a joint not thirty minutes ago… but I was undoubtedly in more control than Ace was.

I grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face me. "Ace, give me the keys," I demanded, holding my hand out.

But he shook his head, opening his mouth to protest.

I didn't have time for this. I wanted to get out of there too. Now.

I slammed him hard against the car before he could speak, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "You just pulled a goddamn knife on my kid brother, so you better do what I say before I beat the tar out of you," I threatened.

Ace's eyes were wide, his jaw dropped in surprise.

I'd never threatened him like that before, but I meant it. Nobody pulls a knife on Christopher - not even Ace.

Somewhere in the back of my mind though, I'd already forgiven him. How could I not? He was my best damn friend, and he wasn't right in the head back there. He still wasn't. I knew, because those tears had started to fall from his eyes. But on the surface, I was still raging mad.

Ace remained frozen, his eyes pleading and desperate.

I released my grip on his collar. "Give me the keys," I repeated, not bothering to soften my tone. "And get in the car."

Ace sniffed once, then obeyed. He dropped the keys in my palm and went around to the passenger side, wordlessly. He got in the car and slammed the door shut.

I let out a deep breath before I joined him in the car. I sat there a few moments longer, trying to swallow down my anger. Then I turned the key in the ignition and we booked it out of there without looking back.