Shell Shocked Read Online Free Page B

We’re supposed to fight.”
    â€œI just remember when our house was always filled with your friends,” she said.
    â€œThat didn’t stop us from fighting,” I pointed out.
    â€œAnd that was back home, with our real friends,” Jack said.
    â€œThe kids here are as real as the ones back home.”
    â€œYou know what I mean,” Jack argued. “It’s different with people you’ve known since you were little.”
    â€œYes, but it’s like planting a tree. The best way to eventually have an old friend is to make a new one. You two can make new friends. There are so many new people at the plant, there must be lots and lots of new kids as well.”
    â€œSeems like there are more every day,” I confirmed.
    â€œRight, so it’s not like you’re the only new kids at school, trying to break into a group of people who’ve known each other for years,” she pointed out.
    That was true.
    â€œThen you should try to make some friends. Promise me you’ll try.”
    We both reluctantly mumbled something that sounded like agreement.
    â€œGood!” she exclaimed. “Now, I’d better be off. I don’t want to be late for my shift.” She gave us each a kiss on the cheek and then headed out the door. “And I expect both of you to be in bed and sound asleep when I get home tonight.”
    â€œWe will be,” Jack said.
    I could agree to the “in bed” part, but being asleep I couldn’t guarantee. Actually, I could practically guarantee the opposite. I didn’t like to even try to sleep until I heard the front door open and I knew Mom was home. I really didn’t feel great about her walking home alone in the dark. There were too many things that could happen to her—too much that had happened to her—and I needed to know she was safe. I would stay in bed, lights off, lying still, just waiting.
    Besides, I’d got to the point that I was almost afraid to fall sleep. The last few nights I’d had the same nightmare—me in a tunnel and the walls closing in and then collapsing, and being buried, suffocating and … I shook it off. Bad enough that I dreamed it—I didn’t want to think about it when I was awake, too.
    * * *
    We walked up to the main gate of the plant. Like a lot of things in town, the Community Hall was actually on the factory grounds, and movie night was an event for plant employees and their families.
    â€œLooks familiar, eh?” Jack said.
    â€œMaybe a little too familiar.”
    The last time—the only time—we’d walked through that gate was to deliver the fake bomb, three months ago. In some ways that seemed like only yesterday. In other ways it was more like a hundred years ago—no, more like a dream or a movie I’d seen, definitely not something that had actually happened to Jack and me.
    â€œDo you think it’ll be the same guards?” Jack asked.
    â€œI hope not.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause they might recognize us,” I said.
    Jack snorted. “First off, it was a long time ago. Second, we’re not that memorable. Third, those guards are so old that they probably wouldn’t recognize us if it had happened yesterday. And, finally, so what if they did?”
    â€œBut we smuggled a fake bomb into the—” I stopped myself as I realized what he meant. They didn’t know what we’d done. Nobody at the plant except for the head of security, Mr. Granger, knew anything about what had happened, and Bill had told us that Mr. Granger had been “briefed” on us being here again.
    We stopped in front of the gatehouse. There were only a few entrances into the plant and each was guarded, the road blocked by a long metal rail that needed to be lifted to allow any traffic to pass.
    â€œGood evening, boys,” the guard said as he walked toward us. His rifle was slung over his back.
    â€œGood evening,