“C’mon, Johnny! Don’t you fuckin’ do this, you bastard! Breathe!”

Daniel’s arms felt like lead, but he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. In the background, he could hear Chozen dialing 911, the kids sobbing. Robby screaming for his dad.

They’d arrived for class to find Johnny already there, face down in the pond, the water red with blood.

They’d survived so much. Silver. Kreese. No way was this happening now.

Suddenly, Johnny coughed, retching up a lungful of pondwater. Daniel gave him breathing room.

“Fuckin’ rocks,” Johnny gasped, clutching at his bleeding forehead with a groan.

What’s a wallet?

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