• It was a night to remember. Not unlike any other night in the summer of two fifteen-year-old boys rebelling against their parents. Alex Collinge and I went out past curfew, sneaking out the basement window well and dressing up in all black. Our plan was to test our mettle against the night’s many enemies – police officers, gang members, all of them. We took a path we had taken several days before, following the road and keeping near a rogue bush or tree to hide in if the need arose.

    We would chat. It was a common pastime to walk and talk, and we did so as the streetlamps danced with our shadows. We rounded a corner, and continued along Leawood Avenue, walking up towards the school. The park was more fun to play in during the night, and we commonly met with our other brothers in crime there.

    This particular night, however, we had decided not to invite others – it was going to be a sort of bonding experience between two ringleaders. I felt like we were in a movie – walking down the street, senses fully alert for any sort of danger. We mainly kept watch for the police, but lately a group had taken an interest in harassing us at night.

    This group called themselves the Bloods. They were at least twenty strong from what we’d seen, and they were not afraid to attack kids like us at night. They were mainly our age, with some adults being drivers and providers for those who were caught by the police. They considered themselves to be the gang from California, and whether or not that was true Alex and I had no intentions of pissing them off any more than we already had. Inadvertent or not, they had also drawn the attention of more alert police officers, when Alex took to be some sort of test.

    We descended the hill rapidly, only having to dodge out of the headlights of a single car. That one wasn’t a cop, but we had to stay alert and move no matter what. Alex and I rounded the corner – keeping out of the streetlights as best we could – and sat to rest in a parking lot. We chose to scan the lot for any cars, having seen no police officers on our initial sweep. A single suburban vehicle sat in the vacant lot, and it was silent.

    Alex and I shared a granola bar from my pocket, chatting all the while about our plans for that night. We were to go all the way down to Skate City, and Alex had a surprise for me there. I knew he meant a girl, and that he meant it teasingly, but it always bit me how maliciously he attacked my relationship with Serena. He was always trying to get me to say something incriminating that I’d done, as though he were jealous. The fact is, I did screw up once, and the situation almost went to a suicide of two parties – myself included. I digress.

    As we watched from under the light on the bench, we saw a car drive onto the main road. We could tell it wasn’t a cop, so we ignored it and continued with our conversation. To our surprise, it turned into the lot. Alex and I, apprehensive, stood and began to retreat slowly back toward the school playground. The car slid into the space on the corner, and the lights turned off.

    Thinking back, I remember my heart beating insanely fast. Was it the Bloods? Was it an undercover cop? I could tell Alex was thinking the same things, and we edged further back, eyes focused on the car. The door opened, and a tall, silhouetted figure stepped onto the asphalt. I watched his hand as it closed around the door and slammed it shut. In the other hand, he and I were shocked to see the silhouette of a gun.

    Alex cried out, “Dip, dammit, dip!”

    Both of us shot down the hill, fast as rabbits, silent as we could be. It was dark in the playground, but the moon was full, and it was easy to see our dark forms moving about down the hill. As we ran, we heard footsteps begin to give chase.

    A deep, unrecognized voice shouted behind us. “I’m gonna ******** you both up!”

    A gunshot sounded behind us as we hit the bottom of the hill, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the grass fly up. From our angle, it missed me, but barely.

    The footsteps behind us had stopped, but there were more now. More coming from the playground. Alex changed his direction, and I with him. We moved in perfect sync, fear being our connection. Another gunshot rang out, but I didn’t see where it hit. One of the dark figures chasing us held aloft a baseball bat, silver in the moonlight. Another held another pistol, but it seemed smaller.

    A bullet left that pistol, lighting up the weapon and the man for a split second. I saw a goatee and bad sideburns, then felt a searing pain in my leg. I stumbled, and knew I’d been hit. Adrenaline kept me going, though, and I straightened back up, weaving back and forth as we neared the chainlink fence between Leawood and the outlying farmhouses. Several more shots rang through the night air, and one hit the fence, barely illuminating it as the metal was torn.

    Behind me, I heard a loud cry, and turned my head just enough to see Alex behind me, less than a pace away. My momentary hesitation allowed him to pass me, and he leapt the fence with more grace than I’d ever seen. Then I reached it, and hauled myself over with little effort, and kept running.

    My leg hurt. It hurt and smarted and I felt my blood running down it. I silently hoped that it hadn’t hit anything major down there. My thoughts for a moment passed over my condition, then I was yanked back into reality as Alex dove into the tall grass. I followed him, and we crawled, army-style, all the way to another chain link fence. Alex and I gave each other a look, and we watched the men search the tall grass for us. Sirens were heard in the distance, and we knew our trip was caput.

    “Well, that sucks, dude,” said Alex quietly. He grimaced and lifted his hoodie. “Where’d he hit me?”

    His back, surprisingly, wasn’t bleeding very badly. There was no hole, only a laceration-esque mark along his right side. His hoodie was torn open as well. The skin looked raw, and cracked as he moved, but it wasn’t a bad wound.
    “I got hit, too,” I said, ripping open the rest of my black pants to show the wound.

    Alex whistled softly. “Holy s**t, dude. You’re bleeding pretty badly,”

    Maybe it was the adrenaline that made me not care, or the fact that I knew if I worried about it at that moment I’d probably faint, but I snorted. “It’s not that bad! Besides, I ran on it, didn’t I?”

    “Yeah, but, dude, that’s hella dangerous,” He sounded serious, so I sobered up as well.

    “You think it’s really that bad?” I asked, and took, for the first time, a real look at the wound. It was deep. The bullet had left a hole the size of a dime on the side of my left calf. Blood oozed out with my heart pumps. Just looking at it made me gag.

    Alex took his hoodie and proceeded to tear it into strips. Delirious, I followed suit with the torn pants. We bound the wound. Tightly. So tightly, in fact, that I felt my leg would fall off from lack of blood flow.

    “We gotta get you home, dude,” said Alex, scared and almost in tears. “I don’t wanna ******** lose you.”

    I smiled a bit, feeling light-headed from my blood loss. “Give me a minute. I’m not sure I can get up now that I ******** looked at it!”

    Alex punched me. “It’s not funny, dude. You’re really hurt. We should probably tell your mom.”

    “No!” I instantly replied, incredulous that he had even mentioned it. “You know what she’d do if she found out?”

    He looked down. “Yeah. I know. But look at you. How’re we even supposed to get back? The cops’ll be all over that place in a minute.”

    On cue, the police sirens drew ever closer, and we saw at least three cruisers through the trees on the main road leading up to the school. The lights were flashing, and our pursuers had long since fled. Alex and I decided quickly – our course was to take the field, and end up in Raccoon Hollow on the opposite side of Leawood, then push our way through the Raccoon Hollow Nature Hike, and head into Weaver Park. From there, we were going to drop onto Main Street (Pierce) via the trail and finally travel up through Clement and around to my house. It was a long and arduous-sounding trip, but we had to be sure not to get caught.

    The going was difficult, and laced with problems from the start. In the field, one of the police officers, a bit more assertive and liberal with his flashlight than his fellows, decided to shine it right upon us as we walked through. We heard a cry, and Alex literally lifted me off my feet and ran toward the houses on the opposite end. The police came down the hill, weapons drawn and flashlights waving. If there was any moment to feel weak and powerless, it was that. I had never felt more useless on a nighttime trip before. Even the first time, when we had been caught because of a broken ankle in front of Columbine at 3 am, at least I could talk the cop out of giving us a ticket.
    Now that we had run, we knew that if we were caught, we’d be arrested for sure. They’d think it had been us, and, even though they’d get me to a hospital, we’d face severe consequences from our parents, and likely never be allowed to sleep over each other’s homes again. Alex was likely thinking the same thing, and he tossed me over a fence, which sent me sprawling into a pile of leaves and leapt the thing himself. I stumbled to my feet, feeling the same adrenaline as before course into my body. I grabbed his hand and helped haul him over, then we ran.

    My leg, now that I was aware of its severity, shot pins and needles through my body. My eyes watered in pain, and I almost ran into the fence on the opposite side. Alex helped me climb it, and we ran into Raccoon Hollow. As we entered the nature hike, we saw a cruiser round the corner, flashlight blazing all around for us. He was hoping to intercept us, but we had beaten him by mere moments. Alex and I dropped to the ground, and his light passed over us. Not a sound was made as the vehicle rounded the corner and sat, with the police officer shining the light toward the houses we had come from.

    We stood, and, slowly, ever so slowly, made our way toward the west exit. Alex decided to change our plans – we were to stay at his grandparent’s for the night. They lived right off of the nature hike, so we could hop into the backyard, open the door, and rest until morning. They also had healing supplies. They’d been on vacation, so it should be closed and dark.

    Sure enough, as we came up to his grandparents’ house, the place was dark. Alex hopped the fence and helped me over. The adrenaline had faded, and his hoodie had only stopped some of the bleeding. Our frantic run from the police had reopened the wound, and my deliriousness had increased. He helped me into the window and I fumbled with the lock, trying to open the door, when I fell to my knees.

    I never mentioned how tired I was. It felt like I couldn’t even lift my head without it exploding. My legs hurt so badly, my mind was so muddled. I clicked the lock open as I fell, and then I slid to the ground, panting and wishing I had never gone out, ever. I remember my vision growing blurry, and my voice, barely a whisper, tell Alex that I wanted to go home.

    I woke up at dawn, and my leg was now fully bandaged and there was a water bottle next to me. I lay on an unfamiliar couch, and my friend Alex was staring out the window. There was dried blood all over his shirt and his hands, and my leg had been cleaned and wrapped tightly. Alex and I barely avoided getting caught, and the reason why was due to his torn hoodie-bandage. It had stopped my blood from coming out too much, and in turn kept us alive and safe for another night out.

    On another note, I still have the scar, but it’s not as big as it was. As it turns out, I remember my calf being the part to hurt, but the shot had actually entered my knee. The bullet had not penetrated through, so Alex had to pull it out with a kitchen knife, hence the blood on his shirt. There was a scar on my calf where he had cut the bullet out, but it’s long since healed. It, luckily, missed my muscle and nerves and only tore through some minor tissues. The wound will be a permanent one, but I was lucky.