Children of the Knight (83 page)

A
RTHUR
slowly laid Excalibur out onto the ground, wary of someone coming at him from within the crowd. Sighing heavily, he released the hilt, stood erect, and stepped back from his only protection.

L
ANCE
hit the top of the ramp and shot out like a bullet over the bleachers. Below him the kids looked up in amazement and excited recognition. Fingers pointed upward, hands clapped joyously. He heard his name called out.

But his gaze remained fixed on Arthur a short distance below. He yelled as loudly as he could, “Arthur, look out!”

Arthur turned at the sound of Lance’s voice, his face breaking into a joyous smile of relief at the sight of his boy floating like an angel toward him.

S
ANTIAGO
had Arthur’s chest square in his sights. He smiled and pulled the trigger.

L
ANCE
soared directly toward Arthur, his heart in his throat. The bullet struck him square in the back, piercing his tunic, nicking a corner of his right lung and lodging itself near to his wildly pumping heart. The boy twisted grotesquely in midair, his face erupting in pain, his board sailing off without him.

Not yet sure what had happened, Arthur held out his arms, and Lance smashed right into him, knocking them both to the ground as another shot rang out, the bullet striking the concrete mere inches from Arthur’s head.

Panic gripped the crowd, and they dove for the ground.

The knights swelled into a close grouping around Arthur to protect him as he gently rolled Lance off of him. Reyna snatched up Excalibur and tossed it to Arthur, who grabbed the sword in one hand and pushed himself upright with the other.

Murphy called out orders into his radio and pointed to his men on the perimeter. He gesticulated wildly toward the Hall of Justice, and the cops took off running.

One of Arthur’s archers named Khom, a Cambodian boy from Long Beach, shoved his way frantically through the circle. “Arthur!” he called out in fear.

The king had started back toward Lance but now stopped at this new interruption. “What is it, Sir Khom? Be quick!”

The panting boy gasped, “Some guy, he took Lady Jenny!”

Arthur suddenly whirled to where he’d last seen Jenny. She was gone, and Esteban just shrugged his own confusion.

“Where are they?” Arthur asked Khom anxiously.

“He shoved her into a big-ass limo, up the street.” He pointed up toward Temple and Spring. Ramirez’s enormous Hummer could just be seen driving away out of sight. “There!” the boy shouted. “There it is.”

Arthur made a lunge for Llamrei, who whinnied restlessly beside Chris, whose frightened gaze was fixed on the fallen, unmoving boy. And then the king remembered Lance. He turned and bent down to examine the boy he loved. A thin stream of blood trickled from Lance’s mouth, and a large pool had already begun spreading out from beneath him. His eyes flitted about, the vibrant green etched with searing pain. They focused on Arthur.

“Save her, Arthur,” he whispered. “Hurry.”

Arthur gazed at his beloved boy and marveled that even now he would think of others first. “Hold on, for I shalt return to thee, my Lance.”

He rose and ran to Llamrei, deftly leaping onto her back, snatching the reins from a shell-shocked Chris and galloping hard through the crowd, which opened a pathway for him. Several of the approaching police cars were ordered by Murphy to follow the limo, so they took off up Temple in pursuit.

The stunned spectators began rising to their feet, milling and confused and uncertain about what had just happened.

Chris pelted over to kneel beside Lance, and Reyna, who’d gripped Esteban’s hand in shock, released it and knelt by the wounded boy’s other side. Chris grasped Lance’s hand, gazed in shock at the pain in the boy’s eyes, at the blood pooling from beneath him, and began to cry.

Reyna sat beside Lance and gently cradled his head in her lap, lightly brushing the boy’s damp hair from around his face. Lance focused his eyes on her and tried for a smirk. “You mad cuz I’m younger, prettier, can shoot,
and
skate better than you?”

Reyna swiped at the tears dripping down her face and forced a smile. “You crazy fool, had to play the hero, didn’t you?”

Lance smiled a bit through his pain. “Did I win the gold?”

She took his hand in hers and fought for control. “’Course you did. And you know why?” He shook his head weakly. “Cuz I love you, that’s why. You couldn’t’ve done it without me.”

Lance’s smile broadened, the pain in his back becoming numb, almost bearable.

At that moment, Jack pushed through the circle, panting and heaving, and gasped when he saw Lance. And the blood. His breath nearly stopped, his heart in his throat.

“Oh no,” he said to no one in particular, his knees almost buckling beneath him. “No, it can’t be! Oh please, God, don’t let this happen!”

Reyna gazed tearfully at the handsome, guilt-ridden face, so contorted with anguish, and waved him over. “C’mon, Jack, he needs you.”

Legs weak, heart thumping wildly with terror, Jack stumbled forward and dropped to his knees beside Lance. The younger boy smiled up at the older one he idolized.

“We did it, huh, Jacky? We saved Arthur.”

Jack shook his head, clenching and unclenching his fists, struggling to control his anguish. “Damn you, Lance, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to save
you
!”