Andrew Klavan - The long way home

"It was like I said," Hunt was explaining to Brown now. "The retro thing. We were talking about Alex. About how he got killed."

"Oh yeah?" said Brown. "About Alex, huh?"

Hunt shrugged guiltily again. He looked at Josh. Now that he was beginning to understand how Josh had suckered him, he was getting angry at him, hoping to put the blame off on him. "Hey, he's just some punk. It's no big deal."

"That right?" said Brown to Josh. "You just some punk?" Josh faced him and we saw Brown's slickly handsome face leaning in toward him. "That why you come around here asking questions?"

"Charlie," said Beth. "You've got to get him out of there now."

I took a breath and tried to clear my head. I asked myself: What would I do if I was the one standing there instead of Josh? Sometimes, in karate group classes, Sensei Mike would teach us tricks about situations like this, about how to fight when you're outnumbered. He would have a group of us gang up on one of the other students and then shout instructions about what to do. The main thing, I remembered, was you had to move in ways that forced your opponents to cut one another off, try to get them in an I formation so that only one of them had a good shot at you at any given time. Most of all, you had to avoid getting cornered or surrounded-the way Josh was now.

But even if I could help Josh maneuver himself out of the middle of the pack, what then? He was no fighter. And if he just tried to run for it, they'd take him down like a pack of dogs on a deer.

"Josh," I said. "Are there any adults there? Any teachers- anyone in charge who might give you a hand if you screamed for help?"

"That's no good," said Miler. "If a teacher starts questioning him, they may figure out he's working for you. Then you'd have the cops on your trail again."

I knew that-but what could I do? I wasn't going to let Josh get his arms broken just to save myself.

The scene on the monitor shifted back and forth slightly as Josh tried to steal a glance at the schoolyard, as he tried to seek out someone in charge who could help him. All I saw were glimpses of kids clustered together.

"Hey!" Brown's voice came sharply over the two-way speaker. "I'm talking to you. Why are you asking questions? Are you just some punk?" His threatening features filled the screen again.

"Am I a punk? That's your question?" Josh's voice broke in fear. "Well, I'm not sure how to answer that actually. I suppose you could say I was a punk. On the other hand, you might say…"

Rick, Miler, Beth, and I all started backward as Brown shoved Josh in the chest again. It was as if his hand had come right through the monitor and shoved us at the same time.

"You trying to be funny now?" said Brown.

"Hey, Josh," I said. "If I tell you how, you think you could get up the nerve to drop this guy?"

"Drop him?" Josh squeaked.

"What?" said Brown. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

" 'Nothing' doesn't cut it. Answer my question, punk. What are you doing interviews around here for?"

"It's for my school-my school newspaper…"

"He's too scared to hit him," said Rick.

"And if he misses, this thug'll kill him," Miler added.

"And if he doesn't miss, the other thugs'll kill him," said Beth.

"Maybe. Maybe if I can get him to do it just right…" I murmured, still trying to think. Then I spoke into the two-way. "Josh, listen. Keep talking to him, say whatever you have to, say anything, but turn to your left and right while you talk so I can see exactly where these guys are standing."

Josh started babbling, "Well, let me try to answer your question as clearly as I can, okay? You see, as your colleague Mr. Hunt was saying, we're doing a retrospective on the change in attitudes that arise in a community when certain homicidal events cause an alteration…"

At the same time he babbled, he turned this way and that and I got a quick look at the positions of the other thugs, how they'd surrounded him.

"All right," I said, "keep talking, Josh, but listen to me very carefully and do exactly what I tell you to do…"

As Josh turned his attention to me, he had to talk without thinking and his babbling became even more nonsensical.

"Whereas several parties in the original configuration might have differentiated between one form of confluence and another…"

Rick put his head in his hand. "Dude's gonna die."

I murmured fast into the two-way. "When I say go, I want you to say a friendly good-bye and just stroll past this guy, walk past him to your right. Your right, Josh."

"Of course, I can totally understand if your consternation makes it appear to you that that situation is no longer viable as a subject…" Josh was saying.

"When you do that," I said, "the punk is going to grab your left elbow with his left hand. When that happens, you gotta move fast. Bring your left hand up and grab his elbow. Then swing around behind him and with all the strength you have, shove him in the shoulder so that he goes flying into Hunt. It'll make sense when you do it. Then run to your left-to your left, Josh, understand? Don't look back and don't stop running till you're in your car."

As Josh kept babbling, I heard-I guess we all heard- a new note of hysterical terror enter his voice. "Now of course you realize any attempt on my part to do anything of the nature you describe will result in my untimely evisceration…" The idea of grabbing this guy Brown and shoving him was clearly amping his fear to the max.

Up to now, Brown had been peering at Josh through narrowed eyes, pretending to understand what Josh was saying. I think maybe he was afraid if he admitted he didn't comprehend word one, he would look stupid in front of his friends. But now, his gaze shifted. His eyes grew even narrower. He wasn't looking at Josh at all anymore. He was looking at us, directly at us through the monitor.

"He sees the webcam," said Rick.

I felt a fresh burst of fear go through me.

"Hey," Brown said, cutting through Josh's palaver. His finger pointed at us through the monitor. "What's this here?"

"Oh no," said Beth.

"All right, Josh, this is it," I said into the two-way. "Do it now! Say good-bye and move past him to your right. Do it!"

"And with that," said Josh, his voice so high with fear he sounded like a cartoon mouse, "I must be off. I bid you all a fond farewell."

"What?" said Brown.

"To your right," I said into the two-way.

The scene started jogging around as Josh started moving. I got one glimpse of the surprised look on Brown's face as Josh tried to walk right past him.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he said.

I couldn't see it, but I had to hope he was reaching out now, grabbing Josh's elbow with his hand as I'd said he would.

"Now, Josh. Use the arm he's grabbing. Bring the hand up, grab his elbow, and swing your whole body around behind him. Shove his shoulder! Do it!"

"Me?" said Josh.

"Yeah, you!" said Brown.

"Do it!" I barked into the two-way.

"Do it, Josh!" said Beth.

"Come on!" said Rick and Miler at once.

And, to our complete amazement, Josh actually did it.

We saw a blur. He was spinning. If he had Brown's arm in his grip, he'd be able to get around behind him. And yes, there was Brown's back on the monitor. And there was Josh's hand on his shoulder, shoving him. At the same time, Josh let out what I guess was supposed to be a karate yell, but it sounded more like the shriek of a four-year-old girl running through a sprinkler.

"Eeeeeeeeeee!"

In a blurred jumble of images, I saw the startled Brown stumble forward into the equally startled Hunt. Hunt automatically reached up to catch him, but Brown went into him with such force that they both staggered backward. Then Hunt tripped and went over, carrying Brown with him so that both fell to the ground.