Melinda and her two remaining Wolves found Mark and six others cleaning up their room, tying up the living and gathering dropped weapons like it was some kind of yard sale from an isolated incident. Like it was coincidence that their whole English class just up and turned on them.
"Don't bother!" Melinda screamed. "The whole Fu is going up! Right now!"
Mark didn't believe her. It couldn't be possible.
There was no time to explain. They had to get to the quad, to the meeting place, before anyone else did. Then they could rally. The fastest way was out the door, left down the hall, then down three flights of stairs and through the cafeteria. So all ten went together and they encountered minimal resistance because they traveled in such a large group. Isolated Blades or Whips would turn and run in the other direction when they saw them coming. Those kids would jump six steps down on the stairs and take off for the nearest open space on the next floor, just to avoid Melinda.
But when the group got to the cafeteria, they were in for a surprise. Dermoody was standing on a lunchroom table, holding a shotgun, and screaming something about martial law as he plugged one kid, a freshman Wolf that was running away from him, right in the back.
So it was Mark that made a run right at Dermoody, completely devoid of sense, just insane-crazy; maybe he thought he was protecting Melinda, protecting his family. Dermoody saw him. Shot again but missed Mark, and the scattershot piled itself into the Wolf in front of Melinda. He collapsed in a heap, groaning. But Mark never made it as far as Dermoody because Cap'n Joe moved out from behind him and in one large step, cleared the table and crushed Mark with a tackle. The whole cafeteria echoed with the smack like a hundred pairs of hands clapping once.
Melinda lined up Cap'n Joe's skull for a lobotomy kick, effective immediately, but Dermoody had reloaded with one more shell, quick as a cat. He pointed the gun in her direction. She could only halt her movement by reflex, her leg still in the air as she watched Cap'n Joe slam Mark's head into the floor, once, twice, smashing his fragile brain against the unforgiving wall of his skull, and picked him up like a rag doll. Mark's legs twitched as he tried to find his footing but there was none to be had as Cap'n Joe lifted him off the ground with a firm chokehold.
"Why?" It didn't come out so loud at first, but Melinda tried again, "Why?"
Mark's ears were bleeding.
"Because I can," Dermoody said it loud, "because nobody's going to miss a bunch of poor gang kids that would be better off in jail or dead anyway. So go ahead and do it, Joe. I want to see this."
"No, don't do it!" Melinda shouted but didn't move. The shotgun was still pointed at her.
And with Mark's neck in his spinach-eating forearms, Cap'n Joe just twisted.
That was about where me and Jimmy came in.