Law & Crime
"One more thing," Stike called as I mounted up. "Keep your eyes open."
"Huh?" Keep them open for what? What did he mean?
"We had a kid last year who ran into some trouble. Some crew didn't appreciate his cleanup. They waited for him one morning and jumpted him. Kid ended up in the hospital." He grinned at me as if he were telling me about some fond memory. "Watch the watchers," he said. "If you think you're attracting some of the wrong attention, you let me know. Crews don't scare Stike."
I had the feeling that not much scared Stike. But the thought of getting jumped by a gang sure scared me. I began to wonder if Dave Marsh had done me a favor after all.
J'ai l'impression qu'il n'y a pas grand-chose qui fasse peur à Stike. Mais moi, l'idée d'être attaqué par un gang me terrifie.
"I like being alone," I say. "Honestly. Groups just aren't my thing. It's actually fun not having friends."
I don't know why I said that. It was supposed to be funny, but it sounds pathetic. Van's face is more transparent even than mine. He doesn't embarrass easily but he definitely looks annoyed.
"I don't think sarcasm suits you," he says stiffly.
I'm tired of talking about this. I stand up and stretch. "Have you ever seen Renegade?" I ask.
"Who's Renegade?" says Van.
"A horse," I say. "Come on."
