OK, so... I'm too tired to respond to the reviews I've already received for the last chapter, but I will. And speaking of... This chapter is dedicated to FoggyMoon, who: a) was my very first reviewer (and I'm talking about when I first posted TGILWSBL, here), b) has stuck around ever since, c) has reviewed EVERY SINGLE chapter excepting one - which was posted about an hour before the one after it, so that doesn't really count, d) wrote me THE BEST REVIEW EVER for the last chapter I just posted, and finally, e) inspired me to continue on and write this as soon as I read said review.

So seriously, go FoggyMoon!

Oh, warning - not so many cute moments here... Sorry. But it just wasn't a very cute scene. *shrugs*


So, eating dinner with the True Americans was… well. Harrowing is a good word. A harrowing experience. Apparently, after my big entry speech, I was accepted into the group right away, they were so impressed. The downside of this was that I was everybody's favorite new best friend, especially Jim Henderson's. He sat me down next to him, and then the next half-hour or so basically consisted of me being as non-politically correct as I was able, and pretty much directly opposing my own views on every single issue we discussed.

I actually envied Jess a little, when I saw her come by, looking rather sulky and serving potatoes, but then they were looking at me again, waiting for my opinion – or, Hank's opinion, anyway.

I'm not going to lie to you. It was pretty bad. From just the smell of a) the chicken, b) the people, and c) the barn itself, I was feeling a little ill, and that's not even factoring in the subject matters we were discussing, or the opinions we were expressing. It was pretty much horrible. I did not enjoy it, not one bit. In fact, I couldn't wait to get out of there.

But Hank loved it. Hank, their newest recruit, was one of the most vehement assholes there, and even Henderson was obviously very impressed by him. I was, despite feeling pretty sickened, rather proud of myself. I had no idea that I'd had such acting talent.

In fact, I was actually starting to relax, when they brought Seth in.

I had no idea what prompted it; maybe it was something I'd said that was just slightly out of whack, or maybe they still hadn't forgotten Jess's terrible failure earlier – or maybe this was just routine procedure for them, I don't know. But about a half an hour after I'd first been offered Jim's chicken, the guy, Red Leader, who had brought us in, came into the room with his rifle pressed into a little kid's neck.

The room instantly went quiet, everyone turning to look at the two. Red Leader forced the kid – obviously Seth – forward, right up in front of Jim Henderson and me. The only sound in the room was Seth's sobs – until Jim stood and spoke up, his too-loud voice filling the room.

"Americans," he began, and pretty much instantly, everyone turned adoring faces up at him. It was a little creepy, really. They all had this sort of glazed look, and were just gazing at him like he was the only thing on earth.

"We've made some fine new friends tonight," Jim said, slapping a hand down on my shoulder. I tried to look proud, rather than disgusted. "And I for one am grateful. Grateful that Hank and Ginger found their way to our little flock."

I saw Jess glancing around as if confused, and then the moment she realized, when about half the room turned to look at her, that she was Ginger. Her eyes widened, and she shot a dark glower at me.

Ha. Serves her right. How many times had she given me stupid fake names? Although, actually, I hadn't picked the name Ginger to annoy her. I'd just remembered that she had called herself that, over the summer, when we were pretending to be those two kids from Central Chicago High, or whatever it was. She'd liked the name then, God knows why. Apparently, though, in the months that had passed, she'd changed her mind.

Oops.

"But however impressed we might be by Hank and Ginger's professed dedication to our cause," Henderson said, my heart sinking with every word and muffled sob of Seth's, "there's really only one way to test the loyalty of a true American, isn't there?"

Everyone around us muttered affirmative noises. I swallowed. For some reason, it sounded really loud – but not as loud as Seth's continued tears, which everyone else was just ignoring.

"Hank," Jim said, turning to me with – my stomach clenched – a benevolent, almost fatherly smile. "You see before you a boy. Seemingly innocent enough looking, I know. But innocence, as we all know, can be deceiving. The devil sometimes tries to fool us into believing in the innocence of an individual, when in fact that individual is laden with sin. In this case, this boy is soaked in sin. Because he is, in fact, a Jew."

Jim paused dramatically for a moment, then continued. "Hank," he said again, "Because you've already, in the short time I've known you, so thoroughly impressed me with your sincerity and commitment to the cause, I am going to allow you a great privilege I've heretofore denied both myself and other men. Hank, I am going to let you kill a Jew."

Somehow, even though I had been expecting something like this, just hearing that spoken aloud shocked me. I stared at him. At the knife in his hand, that he'd just pulled from his boot and was offering to me with a smile. At the tears on Seth's cheeks. At Jess, standing in the corner, face utterly blank and dead.

And then, just like that, I snapped out of it. I'm not going to lie, and say that suddenly I knew what to do, nor am I going to be a complete sissy and say that it was Jess that inspired me. Except… she sort of did. Not really. But I just couldn't bear to see that look on her face, and that was what snapped me out of my daze and made me realize that I had to do something.

"Well," Jim said, "Go on. Take my knife. Really. It's okay. He's just a Jew."

I turned my head fractionally to look him in the eyes, and I was completely disgusted by what I saw there.

It wasn't hatred, or disgust, or even mistrust. No, it was the exact opposite, and that was what made it so horrible. Jim Henderson was looking at me – no, at Hank – and he trusted him. He honestly believed that I – that Hank – was going to pick up that knife and kill Seth Blumenthal, right then and there. He probably thought that the only reason I was hesitating was because he was a innocent-looking little kid – which was why he'd 'reassured' Hank. I could see it all in his eyes.

And, honestly, that's what sealed the deal for me. Knowing that a guy like that thought that I was so much like him that he expected me to kill someone just because they were Jewish – even though, for the sakes of our cover, it meant I'd done a great job, there was something just so personal about it. Far too personal. It made me mad, that he believed that of me. That he could, even if I was just acting. It made me really, really mad.

So I reached out and picked up the knife.

"Thataboy," Henderson smiled triumphantly at me. "Now go ahead. Show us you are a true believer. Stick it to the pig."

I nodded. And then – well, then I did the only thing I could do.

I reached out, threw an arm around Jim's neck, put the knife up to his jugular vein, and said, "Anybody moves, and Jimbo here gets it."

Shock. That was all there was, on everybody's faces, even Seth's – who obviously hadn't known that I was one of the good guys. Everyone's, but Jess. She beamed approval at me, as she walked forward and slipped the rifle out of Red Leader's hands. "Thanks," she grinned, "I'll take that."

"Okay," I said, trying to sound a lot more confident than I really felt. "Okay, now. Everybody just stay very calm, and no one is going to get hurt." Really. No one was. At least no by knife. I might be mad, but that didn't mean that I was willing to be the cause of a whole bunch of bloodshed. Hell, no. My aversion to blood itself was enough to prevent that unless absolutely necessary. Plus, Jim was our bargaining chip. We were dead without him.

"Me and the girl and the kid and Jimbo here are going to take a little walk. And if any of you want to see your fearless leader" – this was obviously sarcasm, as one look at Jim's face showed fear aplenty, so much that his face had gone deathly white – "live through this, you're going to let us go. Okay?"

I waited, and when no one said anything to the contrary, I nodded. "Good. Jess. Seth. Let's go."

And then… we left. Just like that.

Okay, so maybe not. Jess led the way, rifle held threateningly in the air, with the big do Chigger by her side – not sure how she'd accomplished that, but I figured that any ally was a plus – and Seth followed her, and Jim and I brought up the rear, walking down the whole length of the barn at a very slow, awkward pace, Jim yelling all the way.

Oh, yeah, he was yelling. And it was actually very annoying, because his voice – which I was convinced sounded like he had a microphone under his shirt or something, it was that loud – was right under my chin, going: "You may think you're gonna get away with this, but I'll tell you what. The people are gonna rise up. The people are gonna rise up and walk the path of righteousness. And traitors like you, boy – traitors to your own race – are going to burn in hellfire for all eternity – "

I interrupted him here, annoyed. "Would you," I asked, "shut up?"

And he did. It was somewhat surprising. Very pleasing, of course. So pleasing, in fact, that I made a very stupid mistake for just one second: I relaxed.

Really, I'd been much too cocky this whole time, too confident. I had been sure that the people wouldn't rise up, to use Jimbo's words. But, up until that instant, I had been careful. I'd been on the lookout, just in case. Just in case they did. After all, they outnumbered us, about sixteen to one – and that was counting Seth.

But right in that moment, when Jim Henderson finally shut his trap, I relaxed – and I paid for it.

The next thing I was aware of was something hard and heavy colliding with my head. As I fell to the ground, surrounded by little shards of glass, I dimly recognized the woman who'd dragged Jess off earlier, standing above me.

And then the pain in my head became too much, and everything went black.