Free Camp X by Eric Walters

of course looked like the second and the third. I knew I wasn’t delivering to any of those, though. The first house on Jack’s route was partway down the block and—I recognized the curtains. I took a newspaper from the bag and whipped it up at thehouse. It hit the front door with a loud bang. Right house, and good throw. I could do this.
    I pitched a paper at the next house. It was a little wide of the door, but close enough for them to see. The next house got a paper as well. I threw that one underhand and it skittered up the walkway and bumped into the front step. The next houses were across the street. I crossed over and delivered another paper.
    â€œHey, paper boy!”
    I jumped slightly into the air and spun around at the sound of the voice. There were three kids walking down the driveway of one of the houses I’d just passed. They looked about my age . . . maybe a little bit older.
    â€œWait up!” one of them called.
    I stood there waiting as they came toward me. There was something about them that made me nervous. Maybe it was the way they were walking, or the look on their faces, but something didn’t seem right. They stopped right in front of me.
    â€œGot any extra papers you don’t need?” one of them asked.
    I shook my head.
    â€œCome on, that bag looks pretty full,” another of them tried.
    â€œI . . . need them all,” I stammered.
    â€œThat seems pretty greedy, not sharing. You gotta have one extra paper. Here, let me have a look.”
    Before I could even react he grabbed the bag and started to pull it off my shoulder.
    â€œDon’t do that!” I practically shouted as I gripped the bag with both hands.
    A second kid grabbed it as well and they ripped it from me.
    â€œGive it back!” I pleaded.
    â€œShut up or we’ll do more than just take a paper away from you!” the biggest one threatened.
    I shut my mouth and stared down at the sidewalk.
    â€œYou don’t mind if we take one paper each, do you?” he asked.
    I didn’t answer.
    He reached out and poked me in the shoulder. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked again. “I hope you don’t mind this!”
    I looked up at the sound of Jack’s voice and saw him smack the biggest kid right in the side of the face! He went down like he’d been shot, and his nose practically exploded. Blood was spurting out and onto the sidewalk.
    â€œMy nose! My nose!” he screamed. He’d dropped the newspaper bag and was clutching his face with both hands, like he was afraid his nose was going to drop off.
    Jack bent down, grabbed the bag and handed it to me in one quick motion.
    â€œAnd do either of you mind what I just did?” Jack yelled.
    The other two started to back away. They looked shocked and scared and confused all at once. Jack stepped forward. He was big for fourteen, and strong, from working with our father on the farm. He was going to take them both on, right there and then, and I knew that they didn’t have a chance.
    Everybody back home knew Jack, and knew that I was his brother. These three boys were going to find out why nobody ever bothered us.
    â€œSo you think it’s funny to pick on somebody when you’ve got him outnumbered three to one, huh? How about the two of you against me? How about it?” Jack yelled.
    â€œWe didn’t mean nothing,” one of them stammered. “Nothing.”
    It looked as if they were going to turn and run and— suddenly a car squealed to a stop at the curb. It was a police car! Inside was Chief Smith!
    â€œWhat’s going on here!” he demanded as he climbed out.
    Nobody answered.
    The Chief lumbered toward us. He was a big man—tall and heavy—and in his uniform, with a gun strapped to his side, he loomed even larger.
    â€œI know you three,” he said, pointing to the boys. “What have you been up to?”
    â€œWe didn’t do nothing!” one