Free The Masked Family by Robert T. Jeschonek

shook her head. "What are we going to do with you?"
    E.Q.'s voice finally broke into a full-fledged shout. "How could he possibly hurt himself like that?"
    "I don't know." Cary clenched his teeth, fighting to keep from crying.
    "You're all grounded for a month," said Lydia. "Now get up to your rooms and stay there."
    "Correction," said E.Q. "Get up to your room . You're all sharing the same bedroom from now on."
    " What ?" Baron looked like he was ready to leap off the sofa and have a fit.
    "Since you can't be trusted around Grogan, you won't be in the same room with him anymore." E.Q. pointed at Baron. "You'll sleep on the cot, and Cary will use a sleeping bag."
    "Now get up there and think about what you've done," said Lydia. "Think about how you'd feel if you were in Grogan's shoes. Think about how you're going to make it up to him."
    As the kids trooped upstairs, E.Q. shouted behind them. "I'm ashamed of every one of you!"
    "Think long and hard about this," said Lydia.
    "I will," said Cary, but his parents probably didn't mean it the way he did. They probably didn't want him to spend every waking moment thinking of how he was going to get revenge against Blacksheep.
    He was making it his mission in life to do exactly what he and his brother and sisters had been falsely accused of already.
    And he wouldn't care what the consequences might be. How could things get any worse?
    Grogan's trick was going to backfire. He'd fixed it so his enemies had nothing to lose.
    At the top of the stairs, Celeste ran into the bedroom, but Paisley stopped Cary by touching his arm. "Don't worry, Cary," she whispered. "It'll all work out."
    Baron turned, his features fixed in an icy glare. "Baa baa black sheep," he said. "Have you any wool?"
    Cary grinned. "Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full."
    "And the Nuclear Family's gonna take it all away," said Baron. "Baa baa baa."
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    *****

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    Chapter Thirteen
    Lilly, Pennsylvania
    Saturday, April 5, 1924, 9:45 PM
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    A mob of local men stormed down Main Street, hauling Olenka's future husband between them...though Olenka did not yet know that she would someday marry him.
    "Who's that?" she said.
    "Let's find out." Father Stanislavski led her through the crowd that had grown in the middle of town after the two explosions. Most everyone who lived in Lilly was there, trying to decide what their next step should be.
    As the men with the captive swept past, the crowd followed them. Olenka and Father had to jog and weave between neighbors to get out ahead.
    The men stopped at one of the trains on the siding. Dominick and Nicolo each had hold of one of the captive's arms and pinned him back against the side of a black boxcar.
    "Hey, Father!" said Dominick. "We got the right man this time!"
    Stefan Volta swaggered forward with a sneer on his pockmarked face and a coil of rope in his hand. He was older than Dominick, in his mid-thirties or so, with unruly black hair, six kids, and a mean streak as wide as a coal seam.
    Olenka realized from his attitude that he was in charge now. "Who wants to do the honors?" When he lifted up the coil of rope, a loop swung free at the end of it.
    Olenka recognized it immediately as a hangman's noose.
    "Hey, buddy." Stefan held up the noose for the captive to see. "Isn't this what you Klannies use to kill people like us?"
    The man's eyes widened with visible terror.
    Olenka stared at him but didn't recognize him. She thought he looked like he was in his early twenties and more a farmer than a miner. He had bright blonde hair, plastered to his skull with sweat, and eyebrows and a mustache of the same color. His nose was long and sharp, his eyes pale blue. He was taller than either Dominick or Nicolo, and his frame was on the bony side.
    Olenka was fascinated by him. She knew Klansmen were ordinary people under their robes and masks, but she had a hard time imagining this young man in his red flannel shirt and bluejeans as a soldier in an army of evil.
    "Betcha didn't