Caden looked over across the pathway at Travis, as he shifted closer into the bushes. Travis slowly put one of his rough fingers against his chapped lips, signally for silence. Caden nodded in turn, as he heaved a sigh.
Why are we doing this? he thought, Mr. Mason never meant any harm.
Travis was pissed at Mr. Mason, a local grocer at Save-A-Lot, just because he was the driver. The driver! Big deal, he was the driver of the Volvo Krystina was in. It wasn’t as if he had planned the gas leak; no one can help it if the gas is leaking out of the tank. Krystina had died because of the truck driver who was too busy sexting as he drove the milk order to the store, but no, since it was Mr. Mason who was in the driver’s seat next to her of course it had to be his fault!
Caden was only with Travis tonight, because he didn’t want him to do anything stupid. At least it seemed like they probably wouldn’t be doing anything but some harmless harassing; he figured his buddy was going to just knock on windows and ring the doorbell incessantly. He didn’t see any shit bags, so they weren’t going to pull that old prank.
Travis held up his hand and ticked off three, two—he ran up the porch steps and knocked loudly on the front door. Mr. Mason’s outside light flicked on as he came out, and Travis started yelling something that sounded like the same nonsense he’d been rattling off incoherently about Krystina’s death as he grabbed the middle-aged man by the arm. Mr. Mason looked at him, startled and Caden couldn’t blame him; Travis was being crazy.
His friend became silent as he reached into his boot, and as he straightened up, Caden saw the porch light bounce off metal. Travis’s mouth twitched up into a malicious grin, and Caden thought that he was punching the man…but when he pulled his arm back, Mr. Mason crumpled to the floor, shock frozen in his eyes.
