Chapter Thirteen
Andy Stinson's hands were shaking so hard, he almost dropped the knife. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and his jacket probably wasn't far behind. His heart was pounding so hard, he almost couldn't hear anything else.Glancing nervously around the empty alley, Andy took a deep breath and leaned against the outer wall of the Talon. He couldn't remember ever being this scared. Once again, he had second thoughts. Or more like fiftieth thoughts. But what choice did he have? If he didn't pay Frank back, plus interest…Well, Andy was a big guy. But Frank could snap him like a twig.
And, if he did this right, he wouldn't get caught. Just pull the ski cap he was wearing down over his face, so nobody would recognize him, do it, then make a run for it. And if, by some fluke, somebody did recognize him, Rina and some of her friends were ready to say he'd gone to her house right after school. And Rina's mom would probably back them up. It wasn't liked she paid attention to who went in and out of her house.
Wiping his sweaty palm on his pants leg, he peaked out of the alley. The street wasn't busy right now, but it would be, soon. And it was Friday, which meant some people had just gotten paid. Plenty of people would be walking by, their pockets stuffed with cash. Their guards down because it was the middle of the day, and the sun was all shiny and bright.
Andy felt a twinge of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside. Yeah, taking someone's hard-earned cash was a sucky thing to do. But he wanted to be able to walk come next week. And he wasn't going to hurt anybody. Not as long as they were smart.
Just then, Andy saw a flashy sports car—the kind he'd always wanted—driving down the road, sparkling like a diamond among the mini vans and pickup trucks. And when that car pulled up to the curb just a few yards away, a thrill of excitement went through him.
Oh, man! Just imagining all the cash the driver must carry around flooded Andy with adrenaline. Fear gave way to greed. And his guilt went away in an instant. After all, this wouldn't be like taking money from someone who'd actually worked hard for it. Hell, Lex Luthor wouldn't even miss a couple hundred—or thousand—dollars.
Andy started to smile. Minutes ago, he was so scared, he didn't think he'd be able to do it. But, now, it was like he couldn't wait. He jiggled the knife impatiently in one hand, watched anxiously for the driver to get out of his car.
"Come on," he muttered. He bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to pounce. "Come on."
"I don't think you want to do that."
Startled, Andy swung around. He was stunned to see a guy standing behind him.
Sighing, Chris folded his arms. Here he'd thought he was orbing to someone's rescue. But, instead of saving an innocent, it looked like he'd caught a mugger pre-mugging. And one new the job, judging by the fear he'd been putting out.
Hey, you will be saving an innocent, a voice in his head said. From him.
"Who the hell are you?" the would-be felon demanded. The blade of his knife sparkled in the afternoon sun.
Not feeling the least bit threatened, Chris took a step forward. "You should really pick another line of work, you know that?"
"Get lost, creep!" the teen said. "This ain't your business!"
"Well, it kinda is," Chris said. "So, why don't you take your little toy there,"—he nodded at the knife—"and go home?"
Eyes burning with anger, a sneer on his face, the young thief eyed Chris up and down. He was probably calculating his odds. When most people looked at Chris, all they saw was a tall, skinny guy who probably couldn't do much damage. But looks could be deceiving.
Coming to the conclusion that he could take Chris, easy, the mugger started towards him.
Unafraid, Chris held his ground. A small grin curved his lips. Knowing that having his knife snatched away by an invisible force would give the young thief something to think about, Chris waved his right hand at the mugger.
But nothing happened.
"Huh," Chris blurted out. Frowning, he waved his hand again. But the results were the same. The knife stayed securely in the mugger's grasp. And the mugger (and Chris was just now realizing how big he was) was still coming straight at him.
Heart sinking, Chris tried to TK the boy away with his left hand, just in case his right one was on the fritz or something. But, still, nothing.
Eyes wide, Chris stared at his traitorous hands. "You have got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed…just as his opponent lunged at him.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
