Read Online Infinite Testament by Greg Ness - Free Book Online Page B

reluctantly agreed. If there was a time to do
this, it was now. He pulled two firecrackers out of his pocket.
They weren’t the kind that launched in the air: these firecrackers would
explode in place and sound like gunshots. Painfully loud gunshots.
    Bruce instructed, “Ok, we light them at the same
time. You throw toward the left and I throw toward the right.”
    The robed leader chanted, “Redeo! Redeo!
Redeo!” All the robed men who were assuming the Christ-like position
hummed in unison.
    BAM! Dozens of loud pops went off. It sounded
like a Chicago mob gunfight landed right in the middle of the cult. The
members all jumped, startled out of their wits. Some ducked for cover and
others let out yells of surprise. Stephen and Bruce laughed and soaked in
the mayhem they had caused. The whole ceremony was ruined. Everyone
looked around and panicked.
    Everyone except the leader. He never flinched.
He pulled up his hood, barely revealing his eyes, and stared at the circle of
fire. Stephen and Bruce were still unable to fully see his face.
The leader looked straight in their direction. His robed head didn’t
move.
    “I think he sees us,” Stephen nervously blurted out.
    “Run!”
    Bruce and Stephen turned and ran. Bruce, of course,
seemed to hover away from Stephen, who did his best to keep up. The
sticks and branches poking from the ground stabbed Stephen’s legs through his
pants and prevented him from moving quickly. He ignored the pain and ran
as hard as he could. The trees brushed by as he twisted and contorted his
body to avoid colliding with them. Bruce was ahead of him and falling out
of sight. He was just too fast.
    A hand yanked on Stephen’s shirt and violently pulled him
back. He was caught.
    The leader stood behind him and put him in a
headlock. Stephen kicked and flailed to escape, but it was no use.
The man had him in his grasp.
    “Do you know what you’ve just done?” Stephen didn’t
know what to say. He was scared for his life. The chanting started
again. Stephen could hear it in the distance. “You almost ruined
everything,” the man muttered.
    Stephen had a black eye. Ronnie, the
class bully, punched him square in the face. He was picking on Stephen
and taunting him in front of the whole school. Stephen was in first grade
at Lincoln School and had been there for almost two months. He was a shy
kid and struggled to make friends. Being smaller than most of the other kids
his age caused bullies to target him. During recess, Stephen had tried to
talk to a girl he had a crush on. Apparently, Ronnie, the big tough
third-grader, didn’t like that.
    Ronnie pushed Stephen against the side of the school and
banged him against the bricks. “You don’t talk to her. Only I talk
to her.” Stephen nodded, wanting to get away from him. A crowd of
kids stood around, watching the unavoidable beating. Most of them laughed
and cheered. The first-graders were ripe for the picking; it was a rite
of initiation to be picked on by the older kids.
    “You going to cry?” Ronnie asked, hoping he would.
Stephen looked to the ground with heavy eyes, surely close to it. Ronnie
punched his shoulder. Hard. Stephen shrunk against the wall.
    Stephen begged, “Please Ronnie, I’m sorry.”
    “Mommy and Daddy aren’t here to help you,
first-grader.” Ronnie pulled back his fist, about to deliver another
blow. But unexpectedly, he felt a tapping on his shoulder.
Distracted, he wondered who would dare interrupt him. He turned to find
the source of the tapping, worried it might be the principal, Mr. Ixley.
    Ronnie was instead greeted with a fist pounding to his
face. The ‘pop’ could be heard and felt throughout the playground.
It was Stephen’s classmate, Bruce. His fist flew through the air like an
eagle swooping for its prey; it soared with a screaming ‘whoosh!’ On
impact, his fist smashed Ronnie’s face. With one punch, Bruce obliterated
him. Ronnie stumbled, confused with the weight of the world that