Free The Fort by Aric Davis Page A

grabbed a black and very loaded Colt 1911 from the drawer by the door, thanked God silently that she hadn’t looked there, and then was out the door after her. She was working open the gate in his wood fence, and then was through it and into the woods. If she had looked or run right or left, he would have been fucked, but she didn’t, she went straight into the trees, and he ran after her.

16
    Tim woke a few hours after the sun came up that morning and, after brushing his teeth, taking a quick shower, and dressing, headed to the kitchen. He could see his dad out back working, but also saw storm clouds overhead. Dad will be so happy if it rains for a little while , Tim thought, a grin passing over his face. He dropped two pieces of white bread into the toaster, then grabbed a butter knife and a plate. He could hear his mom and Becca talking down the hallway, but couldn’t hear and didn’t care what they were saying. His toast popped, he buttered it, and he sat down at the table.
    The Grand Rapids Press from the day before lay open on the table. As he flipped past the first few sections to find the sports and comics, a picture of Molly stopped Tim cold. She’s still missing. Seeing her there in print made it real somehow. She was missing, and maybe she really wasn’t coming back.
    The picture also gave Tim pause. If no one was searching the woods yet, maybe that task did fall to him and his friends. After all, they knew the area better than anyone. Adults rarely went back there, and most teenagers preferred to party in Provin Trails, or atthe drive-in. Tim finished his toast, forgetting all about the funnies, the sports section, and finding the fifth dungeon in Zelda. He wanted to go to the fort.
    After dropping his plate in the sink, Tim walked outside. His dad was transferring rocks from the wheelbarrow. “You see that, buddy?” Stan asked. “Those look like storm clouds. Can you say ‘day off’?”
    Tim shielded his eyes with his right hand. “I don’t know, Dad. Those just look like regular clouds.”
    Stan sighed and threw another shovel full of pea gravel into the hole. “You could throw a guy a bone once in a while.”
    “You know, Dad,” said Tim, “now that you mention it, maybe those are storm clouds. I’m going to the woods. Do you think I should bring an umbrella?”
    Stan grinned back at him as he worked the shovel. “That’s more like it. Are you going to be back for lunch?”
    “I think so,” said Tim. “If I go to Scott’s, I’ll call.”
    “Sounds good,” said Stan. “How are those guys doing? I haven’t seen Scott or Luke since the deck teardown.”
    “They’re good,” said Tim, wondering whether or not he should tell his dad about Luke. It wouldn’t be like telling his mom. If he told his dad, it probably would stay between them, unless things were worse with Luke than he thought. That was the problem, though. Luke had a flair for drama, he always had, and maybe this was just more of that. Or, worse, maybe he was sugarcoating an even worse situation so that he could still vent about it a little without having one of them get help. There wasn’t any right thing for Tim to do, that he could see.
    “Tim?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You looked like you kind of shut down for a second there. I know it’s been a little crazy around here lately. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
    “No,” said Tim, really wondering if he was making the right choice now. “Everything is fine.”
    He was wrong.

    When Tim got to the fort there were two bottle caps lying at the base of the ladder, Sprite and Coke. He threw down his own Budweiser cap, then began to climb up. When he got to the top, he saw Scott and Luke sitting together and staring at something Scott was holding. “Took you long enough,” said Scott. “We’ve been waiting for what felt like forever.”
    Closer to them now, Tim could see what Scott was holding: a new air rifle, or was it—
    “It’s the real thing, Tim,” said