Free The Outkast by Craig Thomas

and your regality must not be compromised.”
    Robert didn’t get it, and he didn’t say anything at that point. He only sat there, looking at the bloody weapon in his hand and the dead body by his side. He sobbed quietly.
    After a while, the man tugged the dead body away and dumped it into a declivity that stretched to meet the water below.
    He walked back to Robert.
    The boy said, “I’m scared.”
    “ There’s no reason to be scared. I shall be watching over you. Now, you may rise and go.”
    Robert rose, and set the bloody scythe down on the ground.
    “ No,” the man said. “Go with it. It’s a treasure, your trophy for tonight.”
    The man watched Robert go.
    The man—The Outcast, who was about to reign.
     
     
     
    ******
    With his endowed belly dancing up and down, side to side, Donnie sprinted like he had never done since he graduated high school more than two decades ago. He tore along like a cheetah, which was unusual for a man his size but absolutely apropos for the dangerous situation he was up against. Except he ran so fast he passed his closest neighbor’s apartment. “Shit,” he muttered, and kept running.
    He had planned that, if he got lucky enough to snatch an opportunity to escape the jaw of death back in his apartment, he would run straight to Susan Kenneth’s. There, with the monster locked out, and with the hope of buying sufficient time, he would place a call to the cops.
    But that plan had become history now, hadn’t it? He couldn’t turn back around and run up Susan’s porch step any more than he could run back to meet his attacker and worship at its feet.
    What’s next? he wondered as he raced across the face of the night.
    Brad Conner.
    Yes, that was his next hope—and probably his last. So, he’d better not mess it up, because doing so would mean ruining almost all of his chances and running through the wood for the next three-or-so minutes before setting eyes on another building.
    He ran, breathing like a grampus.
    Behind him, heavy footfalls pounded the ground.
    Why did he live so far away from the rest of the community—away from the core of civilization?
    And why couldn’t he have been in tune with civilization by owning a gun?
    Shortly before he raced up Brad’s porch steps, Donnie’s pursuer’s footsteps began to recede until they became inaudible altogether.
    Was that a good or bad thing?
    Did that mean he had put a good distance between the hunter and himself?
    Buzzing Brad’s intercom now.
    Then, something hit him hard in the chest—a stark realization of Brad’s inadequacy and undependability. In recent times, the short man had cultivated a less-than-acceptable idiosyncrasy of leaving his hearing aid at home when coming to school, a place where it was most needed. If Brad had become so loose-minded to botch it at work, who was to say he wasn’t in bed right now without the damn gadget attached to his ears, smiling stupidly at the ceiling?
    Or even sleeping?
    Donnie’s bladder filled up all of a sudden, not with urine but with trepidation.
    He listened to the intercom ring, and held his breath while his eyes darted in every direction in search of the impending disaster.
    Then, there was miracle.
    Brad picked up the intercom just after the first ring. “Who’s there, please?” he said, not sounding like one who’d just been aroused from sleep.
    “ Brad,” Donnie shouted into the intercom, speaking as fast as he could, “come open the door for me. I’m being chased by a very dangerous hit man ... a monster, Brad. The door, quickly!”
    “ What, Donnie? I can’t hear you. Could you speak up, please? And try to slow down a bit.”
    Yeah, the shit has begun to hit the fan once again. If anything can go wrong, this is the most suitable night for such to happen.
    “ I’m gonna die soon,” Donnie yelled. “Damn it, Brad. Come get this fucking door ... now ... someone’s trying to kill me ... a big dangerous ape-man.”
    “ What?”
    “ Open the