Sudden Independents

Hunter charged Phillip, aiming his punches at the fat kid’s dumbstruck face. Hunter pounded his fists into Phillip until his anger faded into shame. Phillip hobbled away, sobbing.

Underneath his heavy breathing and the growing distance of Phillip’s crying, Hunter noticed the silence surrounding him. He shrugged and addressed his coworkers. “I think we all know how to pluck a chicken without him yelling at us.”

A few halfhearted cheers rose from the crowd before everyone carried on with their plucking. The mood in the Chicken Shack lightened as several quiet discussions sprouted about how Phillip had been asking for that butt kicking for a while.

Hunter helped Billy up from the floor. Billy rubbed his head as Hunter patted the little boy on the shoulder and brushed some feathers off his shirt.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Tomorrow you should find somewhere else to earn your chips. Maybe I can help.”

“Sure,” Billy said, wiping his nose. Then his eyes grew wide and he stumbled backwards.

Hunter spun around in time to see Patrick and his bandaged head. Patrick threw the first punch with a solid fist that hit Hunter like a baseball bat and knocked him flat.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his jaw. “Hey, Patrick, I missed you at breakfast.”

“Cut the undercover shit, baldy. Where are your friends hiding that little girl?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Wrong answer.”

Patrick stepped in line for a kick, but Hunter rolled and the big kid fell off balance when he met the empty resistance. He growled in frustration and both boys scrambled to their feet. Patrick rushed forward, swinging his fists through the air. Hunter sidestepped and punched the clumsy giant in the kidney. Unfazed, Patrick pivoted around, throwing another wide-arcing shot. Hunter dodged left, registering the breeze from the passing swipe. Pain pulsed in his face from the first punch. Another connected strike like that and he would be the one getting plucked.

Everyone in the building retreated to a safe distance but remained close enough to keep their spectator status. Billy stood alone, looking scared and anxious, which was exactly the way Hunter felt as he backpedaled from Patrick’s fury.

“I like the new look, Patty,” Hunter said, sidestepping another onrush. “What happened? I didn’t think brain surgery was possible anymore.”

Patrick frowned. “Your black buddy surprised me, but it won’t happen again. I’m going to leave all of you for dead, just like your brother.”

Hunter clenched his fist and ignored his common sense screaming at him to run away. Patrick’s hungry eyes flashed, but instead of trading punches, Hunter dropped and kicked Patrick’s right knee out. The kid yelled with pain and toppled over like a broken stone statue. Hunter pounced on top, clamping his legs around the boy’s barrel chest and punch after punch rained down.

Patrick bucked him off and Hunter rolled clear. They both got up, Patrick just a little slower, spitting blood on the concrete as he limped forward.

Hunter smiled, heaving for air as the initial adrenaline surge that brought him along this far dissipated. Was he prepared to kill Patrick? He realized he’d have a hard enough time just knocking him unconscious, while Patrick would certainly kill him if given the opportunity. Chances were slim on Hunter’s side all the way around.

He spread his hands. “Well, I’ve done everything I can. Maybe we can catch up again at breakfast tomorrow.”

Patrick grinned and lurched closer.

Billy yelled something and Hunter wished his new friend hadn’t announced his allegiance, but Patrick didn’t notice or seem to care. He continued his slow advance. Hunter swallowed his pride and turned to run just as Phillip swung his stool. Hunter’s teeth smashed inward with a brilliant sparkle of pain. He collapsed in a heap on the stinking floor.

“Thanks for the help, Phil,” Patrick said, kicking Hunter in the back of the head.

Hunter’s eyes rolled. Unconsciousness replaced the pain and swept him away.

• • •

A dragging sensation jerked him awake.

“Good,” Patrick said from somewhere above. “You’re still with us. I have to ask you a couple questions before I let you go. First off, where’s the rest of your group hiding?”

Hunter’s vision blurred, which explained the multiple Patricks gathered around him. “I’m not telling you shit,” he muttered, forcing the words out through his broken mouth.

Patrick began clubbing him with a hard object and Hunter tried to cover up without any hope. His arms, his legs, his body, his head were pummeled over and over and over again.

Suddenly the beating ceased with Patrick’s scream. Something huge and heavy landed on top of Hunter. He struggled to breathe and push the thing from his chest but his injuries wouldn’t allow it. Billy, crying, drifted close, and the heavy object slid off. Hunter wanted to reach out and touch the little boy’s face. He wanted to tell Billy to run far from this awful place.

Gradually, his worries slipped away.