Johnny Gruesome (4 page)

“What’s happening, men?” Gary had perfected his sales technique: play cool to the underclassmen, make them look up to you.

Fat Boy scanned The Lot, nice and discreet. “Twenty?”

Gary nodded. “Step over to my office.”

They moved around the truck’s cab, hidden from the school but in plain view of the eighteen-wheelers barreling down Route 20 a quarter mile away. Fat Boy pulled a wad of wrinkled bills from his coat pocket. He smoothed them out and forked them over. Gary counted the cash and pocketed it, then took out a plastic bag filled with marijuana.

“Here you go, citizens. No seeds, suits your needs. Tell your friends, see ya soon.”

The juniors thanked him and crossed The Lot, no doubt intending to sample their purchase before class. Circling the truck, Gary leaned against one fender. He watched cars fill the parking spaces with the precision of a dance routine in an old Hollywood musical. At the far curb, a yellow bus discharged its passengers. Most of the students filed toward the main building, but some joined the groups loitering around the parked cars.

A girl approached Gary, her long, feathered blond hair bouncing on her shoulders. She wore a denim vest covered with decorative patches over a pink leather motorcycle jacket, and her skintight jeans caused Gary’s pulse to quicken.

Karen.

Karen Slatter sighed as she stepped onto the icy sidewalk. She hated taking the bus: all those underclassmen acting like wild animals. She was a senior, for Christ’s sake. Johnny picked up Eric every morning because Eric had helped him get his car into shape, and Eric lived on the other side of town, which left her out in the cold. But Johnny always drove her home, the ride that mattered.

Stepping off the curb, she scanned The Lot. No sign of Johnny yet, but she saw Gary’s truck parked at the far end. She crossed The Lot, the sharp toes of her knee-high brown leather boots kicking slush. She passed a red sports car surrounded by jocks in identical letterman’s jackets, blue with white leather sleeves, just like the Buffalo Bills wore. Beneath their knit caps, emblazoned with the Sabers’ logo, Todd Kumler, Derek Delos, and Cliff Wright even had matching crew cuts. Brawny boys with arrogant eyes and hard-set jaws. Wrestlers. She didn’t know how Eric tolerated them. They leered at her and made kissing sounds, and she swung her hips a little to show they didn’t intimidate her.

Assholes.

Next she passed some cheerleaders, who were even worse. They thumbed their noses at her, or gave her dirty looks and whispered behind her back.
Stuck-up bitches
. They were just jealous; Karen knew she was prettier than them and had a better body. She’d teach them a lesson someday.

Her tension evaporated as she reached Gary. His mediumlength brown hair didn’t suit her taste, and the fine whiskers that peppered his chin made him look younger rather than older. She liked his lips, but a broken upper tooth marred his smile. He wore grungy jeans, shit-kicker boots, and an army jacket over a flannel shirt—no flair. Reaching into her shoulder bag, she took out a hard pack of Marlboro Lights and popped a cigarette between her hot pink lips.

Gary produced a brass lighter and sparked it with his thumb. Leaning forward, Karen cupped her hands around the flame and drew on the cigarette until it lit. Inhaling, she felt a nicotine rush. As Gary pocketed the lighter, a familiar-sounding engine roared in the distance and Karen’s eyes lit up.

“Johnny.”

Todd Kumler turned at the sound of the car speeding down the driveway, sunlight glinting off its dirty windshield. The Death Mobile had a reputation as notorious as its owner, and the roar of its engine identified it as much as its appearance did. Frowning, Todd shook his head. Kids like Grissom should have been sent to a different school. Todd’s father owned a construction company and paid for half the books in the high school library. What did Grissom’s father do? Nothing. He was just a drunk. “That wreck’s a real eyesore.”

Derek Delos grunted beside him. “No shit.”

The Death Mobile circled The Lot, its wheels spraying slush at students who jumped back.

“It should be taken off the road,” Cliff Wright said, leaning against the waxed Mazda his father had bought for him as an early graduation present.

An edge crept into Todd’s voice. “He’s heading this way.”

The Death Mobile angled toward them without slowing. The demonic skull on its hood grew larger, taunting them.

“Son of a bitch,” Derek said.

The deadly looking vehicle turned at the last second, and Todd thought he saw Johnny laughing at them. The car sliced into a parking space two spots away and skidded to a stop, spattering the wrestlers’ shoes with gray slush.

Cliff checked his Mazda for stains. “That asshole!”

Todd glared at the Death Mobile.

In the side-view mirror, Eric saw Todd staring at them. “They don’t look very happy.”

Johnny switched off the ignition. “Who cares? Fucking jocks.” Color flashed before their eyes as Karen skipped around the front of the car. Gary followed her, not nearly as enthusiastic, hands stuffed in his pockets. Bending forward, Karen mashed her lips against Johnny’s window. When she stopped, a lipstick butterfly remained on the glass.

Johnny grinned. “Now I ask you, how can you pass that up?”

“Easy—I know where those lips have been.” Eric opened his door and got out of the car.

Johnny leaned across the seat. “You’ll never get laid with that attitude.”

Eric slammed the door in Johnny’s face. Johnny got out on the other side, and Karen threw her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. Johnny wore the regalia of a heavy-metal warrior: a black leather motorcycle jacket over a black V-neck T-shirt, faded jeans pulled over steel-toed boots. Eric observed Gary, who stood at the front bumper, the wind blowing his choppy bangs. He seemed fascinated by the kiss.

When Johnny pulled away, Karen said, “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. Eric’s coming, too.”

Before Eric could protest, Karen acknowledged him with a playful smile. “All
right.”

Gary snorted. “I thought you were too much of a pussy to party on a school night.”

Eric stared at Gary’s broken tooth. “When did you start thinking? If you’re not careful, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

Karen and Johnny laughed, and Gary’s face turned scarlet. Across The Lot, Eric spotted Rhonda Young heading toward the school. She stood only five feet tall, and her maroon coat reached her ankles. A pair of fuzzy earmuffs framed her long dark hair, and across her chest she held copies of the
Red Hill High Observer
, which she had edited,. Her wide glasses gave her an aura of sophistication, and she moved with grace.

“Let’s get inside so Eric won’t be late for homeroom,” Johnny said in a knowing voice.

“Hmmm?” Realizing he’d been caught staring at Rhonda, Eric blushed.

Laughing, Johnny slid an arm around Karen’s waist and guided her forward, with Eric and Gary falling into step beside them.

“Hey, Carter!”

They stopped in their tracks. Recognizing the predatory scowl on Todd’s face, Eric noted he had set his gym bag on the roof of Cliff’s Mazda.

“What is it, Todd?”

Todd spread his hands wide apart. “What are you doing with these headbangers?”

Eric tensed up. “Mind your own business, will you?”

Todd stepped forward. “I’m squad captain. Watching out for the team is my business, and I don’t like seeing you with this trash. It’s bad for our image.”

Damn it
, Eric thought. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not even wearing a school jacket.”

“You think that makes a difference?”

Johnny let go of Karen’s waist and fisted his hands. “Who are you calling trash?”

Seeing he’d struck a nerve, Todd flexed his muscles. He had a fifteen-pound advantage over Johnny. “It talks!” Derek and Cliff chuckled. “I’m calling
you
trash, Gruesome. You, your slutty girlfriend, and your dope-dealing sidekick.”

Eric blew air from his cheeks. No avoiding trouble now.

Moving closer to Todd, Johnny spoke through clenched teeth. “The name is Grissom.”

Todd snorted. “That’s funny, you look
gruesome
to me.” Derek and Cliff snickered.

Johnny stepped into the empty parking space separating them and spread his arms wide apart. “Okay—all three of you.”

Grinning like jackals, Derek and Cliff joined Todd, and the trio advanced on Johnny. Eric had seen Johnny fight more times than he could count, but the contests had always been one-on-one, and he realized he might have to join the fray this time.

The instant the jocks stopped moving, Johnny bolted forward, startling them. He shoved Derek and Cliff back and stood facing Todd. “You two Hitler Youths just get to watch.”

They started forward again, but Gary stepped before Derek, blocking his path. Seeing his role in the drama, Eric stepped before Cliff. Cliff may have been his teammate, but Johnny was his best friend. He didn’t think he could take Cliff, and he hoped he didn’t have to try, but he knew he could at least hold him back.

Johnny glowered at Todd, who glanced over his shoulder to see if he still had backup. Karen wet her lips with anticipation. When Todd turned back, a blur of motion that connected with his left eyebrow knocked the uncertain expression off his face. Derek and Cliff jumped out of the way as Todd flew between them and crashed into the Mazda.

Cliff slapped his forehead. “Watch the car!”

A cry of excitement spread through The Lot, one voice joining another until a chorus sang, “Fight!” Students ran to the Death Mobile and the Mazda from all directions, forming a flesh-and-blood arena around the two combatants.

Rising, Todd rubbed his brow. “You just made a big mistake, you long-haired freak.”

Johnny beckoned him forward. “Let me make another one.”

Todd lumbered forward, and he and Johnny circled each other like teenage gladiators. Looking at the cheering crowd, Eric shook his head. Just like the ancient Romans, they craved blood.

“Come on, Todd!”

“Kick his ass, man!”

“Show him what you’ve got, Johnny!”

Todd swung at Johnny, who ducked and retaliated with a counterpunch to Todd’s solar plexus. Todd doubled over, confidence draining from his face. Eric winced, imagining the boy’s pain. Todd lunged at Johnny with a primal scream, his fist connecting with Johnny’s left shoulder so hard that Johnny pirouetted on the ice. Clutching his wounded arm, Johnny stopped before Eric, his face hidden by his hair. Eric held his breath, dreading the pained expression he expected to see on Johnny’s face. Todd advanced on his nemesis, ice crunching beneath his feet.