Store Clerk's P.O.V.
I hated working these night shifts. It was dangerous. Just flat out dangerous. The world wasn't like it used to be. All the drugs and drinking. Kids these days were crazy. Disrespectful.
Here comes a crazy one now. No shirt. Just a jacket. Hair the color of straw. Crazy. Strung out on something, like all these teenagers in this godless time. And there's blood on him. I'd have to keep a good eye on him.
He went over to the comics, started reading one. He was making me edgy. All fidgety, not dressed right. I could tell there was something wrong with him.
"Hey you!" I called, "you can't read that unless you're gonna buy it,"
He stared at me, colorless blue eyes that were red rimmed. Blood on his lips. High as a kite. His stare went right through me.
He held up the comic he had been reading and slowly ripped it in half.
"Hey, you can't do that. You have to pay for that,"
He came over and was I dumb enough to think he'd pay? Not for a second.
He shoved a gun in my face and I could smell it, metal and gunpowder and death.
"Punks. I'm so sick of you punks,"
It was like he didn't hear me.
"Give me the money," he said, and pressed the gun tighter to me. I didn't feel afraid, exactly. It was like the fear had reached such a level that it stopped being fear, became some other emotion without a name.
So I gave him the money and offered up a brief and tattered prayer to whichever God may have been listening. It worked. The drugged out kid took off, dropping half the money, clutching the gun. When I was sure he was gone I called the police.
Cop's P.O.V.
We got the call, squawking over the radio. Armed robbery at a convenience store near the hospital. Suspect fled the scene.
"You ready, kid?" O'Conner said. He was my partner, and a bit of a mentor. In cop parlance I was a rookie and this was my first call.
"Now remember, he's armed. He was at one point. Always assume the suspect is armed and dangerous,"
O'Conner was a grizzled old veteran. He'd been patrolling Tulsa for 30 odd years. He'd seen everything. I was as green as a bleeding sapling next to him.
"Don't hesitate to shoot," O'Conner said as we sped toward the scene. I touched my gun and felt fear course through me like blood. I swallowed. My mouth was dry. Even my eye sockets felt dry.
Johnny's P.O.V.
This church was mighty cold at night. During the day it wasn't so bad. Pony was inside sleeping, he'd been smoking a ton and hardly eating so now he felt awful.
I wanted to wake him up and get him to read more of the book but I knew he wasn't feeling great so I just left him.
I flipped through it. It made me so jealous how Ponyboy could read it easy as anything. I could never do that. I couldn't read so hot. Letters looked backwards and half the words I just didn't even know. I was really lousy at reading. I'd stay back in school again, well I would have 'cept I don't even know if I'll ever get back to school. Do they have school in jail?