“Lash chansh,” Arnie said. He glowered at Simon.
“You can do it, Sime.” It was Tony.
Randy gave Simon a nod.
“Christ,” Arnie said. “Just fushing throw it.”
Simon missed.
“For fush sake,” Arnie said. He stepped up and gave a slap to the back of his brother’s head.
“Give him a break,” Tony said. “He’s trying.”
Arnie whirled around, and Tony shrank back. Arnie closed on him. He raised a finger to Tony’s face and caught himself quivering. He drew his hand back. “What the fush you lookin’ at, Armano?”
“You’re afraid of him. Afraid of Kelan Lisk.”
“Fush you. Both of you.”
Randy was staring.
“This whole thing’s a bad idea,” Tony said. “This new Formation, this stupid snowman—”
“What the fush did you say?”
“I don’t blame you, Arnie. I’m scared of him, t—”
That was all Tony could manage. Arnie was on him, toppling him, choking him with one hand, ready to mash his face with a fist.
KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL, the voice told him. It was screaming, the words exploding in his brain. He felt dizzy. It took a moment to clear his head, and finally the voice left him.
Arnie looked down at Tony. “Afraid? You’re afraid of the dark.” He let Tony up.
Arnie scooped up some snow and walked away from the group. He started rolling a snowball. It was the best way to conceal his trembling hands.
What was he afraid of? The Lisk kid? That was crazy.
So why was he shaking like a leaf?
Because that little prick got in his head. Got in his head and messed around in there. Tried to turn him into a fucking popsicle.
But worse than that—Lisk read his mind. He had actually felt his memories slipping away, being stolen from him. There had been this awesome wave of power pulling his thoughts like taffy. He’d been helpless to stop it. Like standing in the kitchen taking a Really Good Beating from the old man.
The kid had mentally raped him. Lisk knew about the beatings, knew about the Bank. About the attic … about him shitting logs of copper and nickel.
Still, there was more.
Lisk knew about his plans … and what a coward he really was.
Arnie tried to swallow. All of a sudden, his throat felt like it was jammed with a roll of nickels. A brick.
He reached into his breast pocket. There he found two of the dozen or so pennies he had lifted from the Bank. He slid them into the snowball, then set it in his outside pocket with the three he had already stockpiled.
Do this for me, kiddo, and you’ll never swallow another red cent.
Arnie listened. The soothing sounds of rushing water settled him. The Run lay just beyond the crest of the hill, and that was good, because soon, very soon, that’s where it would all come down. One tiny favor, and Kelan Lisk would be dead.