The truck clattered up the road with its headlights off, a bulking shape only identifiable by the sound of the engine and an old muffler in need of repair. Suddenly, the bright lights flashed on and Dana was forced to lift a hand to block the painful glow of fog lights that tortured his eyes. He blinked, trying to see past the blinding light.

He could just barely make out the driver’s side door of the truck as it opened and a dark form stepped out. The figure came closer until it stood before the light, blocking out most of its source, but making it no easier for Dana to see the person standing in front of the truck. Instead, he could make out nothing about the figure, except that it was the silhouette of a man.

The figure came closer to them, away from the blinding fog lights, and Dana was finally able to make out his features.

It was Métis man, a boy really. A boy with a rifle in his hand.

“What’s going on here?” The Métis lad asked.

Instead of answering the question, Greg took a step toward the younger male. The boy raised his rifle.

“Might want to stop right there, Bronson.”

Greg put his hands up placatingly and took a step back.

“Just paying our respects.” Greg said.

The young man looked past Greg to the damage wrought on the tombstones closest to the cemetery’s entrance. He looked back at Greg.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing your respect.”

While the boy was focused on Greg, Ricky started edging toward him. Distracted by Greg, the boy wasn’t prepared when Ricky made his move. Ricky grabbed the young man from behind, holding his arms as Greg relieved him of the rifle. The young man struggled against Ricky’s hold, but he was slighter in build and couldn’t manage to throw off his captor’s hold. Ian stepped forward. Laughing at the Métis lad’s predicament, he punched the young man in the stomach. Dana watched as the kid doubled over in pain, but managed to stay on his feet even when Ricky released his hold and stepped away.

Dana figured that would be the end of it, that they would tell the kid to keep his mouth shut, and then they’d be on their way.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

It felt almost surreal to him as he watched Greg lift the rifle and point it directly at the Métis kid.

Thinking Greg truly meant to kill the boy, Dana panicked. He rushed forward, taking hold of Greg’s wrist in on hand and the barrel of the rifle in the other.

“What the fuck-“ Greg snarled in anger. To Dana’s ears, he sounded murderous. They tussled for a moment, both unwilling to relinquish their hold on the rifle. Then, a loud crack filled the air and Dana realized that the gun had gone off.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. Dana watched in horror as the Métis lad collapsed to his knees before them. He held his hands over his abdomen and, even in the dark, Dana could make out the dark stain that spread with alarming speed beyond his hands. The boy fell over, landing on the snowy ground, and Dana fell to his own knees. He ignored the cold that seeped through his jeans. He scrambled over to the fallen boy and leaned over him, putting his hand underneath the young man’s neck. The young man looked at him with wide and frightened eyes. He opened his mouth, trying desperately to speak, and then Dana watched in horror and despair as the young boy closed his eyes and ceased to breath.

With a hiccuping sob, Dana released the boy and scrambled for the phone in his pocket. He hoped he could get service out here.

“What the hell are you doing?” He heard Greg ask as he struggled to dial the emergency number even though his fingers felt as if they’d gone numb. He didn’t know if the numbness was due to the shock or the cold.

Suddenly, Greg wrenched the phone from his grasp, stopping him from completing his call to emergency services. Dana turned to look up at Greg with watery eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Greg grabbed Dana by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

“W-what? No!” Dana argued as he jerked away from Greg’s hold. “We can’t just leave him like that!”

“He’s dead.” Greg shoved Dana toward the truck. “Now, get in!”

Dana looked back at the Métis boy where he lay prone in the snow. His arms were outstretched and his black hair was spread out like a dark halo. He looked so young laying there...

He couldn’t be much older than Kalen.

Still, Dana remembered the gun in Greg’s waistband and the fact that there were probably more bullets in the rifle, so he stumbled toward the crew cab.

Self-preservation and Greg’s insistence got Dana into the truck. He told himself he was doing the right thing. He would be a fool to agitate the situation any further. Ensure his own safety and then figure out what to do.

He tensed as Greg slid in beside him. The other three guys were already in their respective seats and everyone was silent as Greg started the engine.

“What are we going to do with the rifle?” Ian spoke up and Dana’s eyes widened. He hadn’t even realized they’d brought the Métis boy’s rifle with them. But then, why not? Both he and Greg had touched it, after all. Their fingerprints would be all over it.

“Don’t worry.” Greg said. “I’ll get rid of it. You guys just concentrate on keeping your mouths shut. No one hears of this.”

The other three agreed. Dana remained silent. He was thankful when no one said anything further after that. To be honest, he was terrified. He wasn’t even a part of this group. He was just a newcomer, tag-a-long. How far would they be willing to go to ensure he stayed silent?

The ride seemed longer this time. The silence in the crew cab was deafening. Dana breathed a sigh of relief when they were once again parked on the street a ways from his house.

Greg turned to him and grabbed his jaw, holding it so tightly that Dana wondered if the larger boy intended to dislocate it. All the better to keep him from talking…

“If anyone asks…” Greg snarled. “If anyone finds out you were not home tonight… we all hung out at Ricky’s house and played video games, got it?”

Dana couldn’t very well talk with Greg’s fingernails digging into the skin of his jaw, so he settled for nodding as best as Greg’s hold would allow. Seemingly satisfied with his response, the larger boy released him. Dana worked his jaw, rubbing it where Greg’s fingers had painfully dug into the skin. He’d be surprised if he didn’t have bruises tomorrow.

Greg opened the door and got out of the crew cab. Dana quickly followed suit, but as he stepped out of the truck, Greg grabbed him by his arm just above the elbow.

“I’ll be seeing you in class on Monday.”

It was an such innocuous sentence, but Dana was certain there was a threat in there somewhere.