Free JACK KILBORN ~ TRAPPED by J.A. Konrath, Jack Kilborn

and never stop.
    But there was nowhere to run. Instead, Tom began to pace, back and forth like a caged tiger, eyes locked on those bushes.
    “ Yo, Meadow!” Tyrone called. “Stop the bullshit and come out!”
    Tom knew Meadow wasn’t bullshitting, knew that he wasn’t going to come out. Not now. Not ever.
    “ Something took him, Tyrone.”
    “ Nothing took him, man.”
    “ You saw the bushes shake. You heard the sounds.”
    “ He just messin’ with us.”
    “ Something frickin’ took him, dragged him away.”
    “ Bullshit.”
    Tom backed up, toward the campfire, and walked to the other side of the clearing. No escape there. No way out. Just more bushes and trees and darkness. He veered left, began to circle the fire, eyes scanning the woods, neck snapping this way and that way to make sure nothing was sneaking up behind him.
    “ We need to find Sara.” Cindy stood next to Tyrone, and just like the boys she stared into the trees.
    “ They probably got Sara, too. Like they got Martin, and Laneesha, and Georgia.” Tom picked at the dry skin on his upper lip. “They’ll come for us next.”
    Tyrone turned to face Tom. “And who is they ?”
    “ I dunno. The ghosts of those war prisoners.”
    “ Ain’t no such thing as ghosts.”
    “ You can tell them that, when they’re roasting you on hot coals.”
    Tom really itched to run. He walked the circle even faster, shoving his hands in his pockets, not liking them there, taking them out, clasping them behind his head, then sticking them back into his pockets again.
    Cindy made a face at Tom as he passed. “Can you please stop pacing?”
    Tom didn’t like Cindy, but one of the things Sara taught him was to listen when someone talked to you, to make eye contact and try to understand what was said. Then, after listening, reason out what they want. If you didn’t understand what they said, ask for clarification. Sara was big on asking clarification. One of Tom’s challenges, Sara constantly told him, was to focus his attention.
    So Tom stopped, trying to process Cindy’s question. He’d heard her the first time, but hadn’t let it take hold in his head. Sara said ADHD was like doing four things at once but not focusing on any of them, sort of like watching TV while talking on the phone while playing a videogame while listening to music. That’s how Tom often felt, like everything wanted his attention at once, and because of that he couldn’t focus.
    “ Thank you,” Cindy said. “You were making me dizzy.”
    Tom listened, and processed, and realized he’d unintentionally done what Cindy wanted. That made Tom angry, made him want to grab Cindy and shake her and scream in her face. He might have tried it, but then he noticed that she and Tyrone were holding hands. Tom wasn’t afraid of Tyrone. Tom was taller, and probably stronger. But Tyrone knew how to fight, and Tom didn’t.
    Maybe if I had some sort of weapon to even the odds…
    Tom cast a quick glance at the fire, seeking out a flaming branch or a log or something. Why the hell was Tyrone getting all lovey-dovey with that meth-head skank anyway? Maybe some firewood upside the head would knock some sense into him.
    “ Just calm down,” Tyrone said. “We need to figure this shit out. And you look like you’re ready to lose it, Tom. Remember group? Working out your anger issues? Remember what Sara said about keeping cool?”
    Tom made a fist, his anger nearing the boiling point, and a little voice in his head told him to exercise some control, reminded him he had problems controlling anger when off his meds.
    Which made Tom remember he hadn’t taken his nightly medicine.
    Tom took two pills a day for his Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. The first was Adderall, which helped him focus even though it was a stimulant and should have made him even more hyper. He took those in the morning. At night, he took Risperdol, an anti-psychotic which helped him calm down.
    Tom didn’t know what time it