The Tenth Order Read Online Free Page B

spilling mascara down her face.
    The principal had told his parents to take Hunter home, that he was suspended for a week. He told them they were lucky the kid wasn’t expelled, and his parents had assured him nothing like this would happen again.
    They were all nods and smiles in the principal’s office, but when they got home Hunter’s dad exploded. “You broke a kid’s nose?” His dad screamed the moment they entered the house. “What the hell’s a’matter with you?”
    Hunter’s mom grabbed his dad’s hand. “George, don’t yell at him. Those other boys were—”
    “What Marie? Those other boys were what? Asking for it? He broke a kid’s fucking nose! ”
    “Language, George!”
    “They called me a baby, Papa,” Hunter said. “What was I supposed to do?”
    George stepped forward, pulled his hand free and smacked Hunter across the face. Hunter cried out, collapsing to the floor. He reached up, gingerly touching his stinging cheek, and looked at his father in shock. He had never hit Hunter before.
    “Don’t you ever say that to me, Hunter. Not ever.”
    “But Papa—”
    “What did I say, boy? The next time I catch you in a fight you won’t be able to sit for a week. Someone starts picking on you, you turn away, got me? You turn away and ignore them, because that’s what civilized people do.” Hunter’s dad paused, his chest heaving like a marathon runner. Finally he stepped forward and offered a hand. Helping him to his feet, he roughly turned Hunter’s face and examined the swelling bruise.
    “You’ll live,” he muttered. Then, looking at Marie, he stomped off to their bedroom and slammed the door.
    Hunter’s mom rushed over and hugged Hunter. “Shhh, it’s okay baby. It’s okay, don’t cry,” –he wasn’t— “Momma’s here, don’t cry.” Hunter swayed gently in his mother’s arms, his cheek rubbing painfully against her cotton blouse. He vowed to never get in a fight again.
    Of course, when he came back to school Hunter was an outcast. The other boys refused to play with him, and the girls who used to flirt so innocently before were nowhere to be found. Hunter was a pariah at the age of seven. More than that, after a few weeks Hunter noticed strangers, people he’d meet while shopping with his mom or playing at the park, giving him the same hateful glares as his classmates. It was the start of what Hunter called his “penance.”
    And when other boys, new kids eager to establish themselves in the intricate hierarchy of grammar school, discovered who Hunter was—well, his dad kept his promise. Hunter’s ass was swollen from third grade to tenth, and by then his father had to finally give up and admit he couldn’t beat the violence out of his son.
    There are just some things you’re born to do.
     
    “Hey, pal,” The voice startled Hunter from his thoughts. “You lost?” An emaciated figure stepped out of the shadows of the alley and shambled toward Hunter.
    After fleeing the hospital he had taken a series of back streets and alleys, making sure to change up his turns at each stop. Now and then Hunter thought he heard the thin wail of a distant siren, but it had been hours since the last time and he was certain by now he’d lost any pursuit.
    The alley was in one of the worst neighborhoods in town, and Hunter cursed himself for letting down his guard and getting caught in the open. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the hooded figure coming near him. “I’m good. Just taking a walk, getting some air.”
    The hooded man laughed. As he neared, Hunter saw a feverish gleam in the man’s eyes. He wore a pair of dirty, torn jeans and a black sweatshirt so faded it was almost gray. The man was horrifically thin, bones jutting out in sharp angles under his sweater, and judging from his shakes probably high. His laugh dribbled from his lips, thin and frail, echoing weakly off the brick walls surrounding them.
    “Shit, nobody comes out here for fresh air. You got a