Young Writers Society

The sun is seeping through my eyelids. I groan. My shoulder is sore. Where am I?
Then I remember Them, and the girl's face staring at me, and my eyes open. There's someone looking down on me, but the face is hidden in shadow since the sun's directly over head. I try to spring to my feet, but someone holds me down.
"How're you feeling?" asks Charlie. The face moves to the side, and I see it's Mitch.
"Never better," I say, rolling my eyes, "Where are They?"
"They're gone. Took off a little bit ago," Charlie says.
"You shoulda seen this kid," Silas says, "That girl was about to finish you off, and this other dude called her name. She looked away for, like, a milli-second, and bam! Charlie did his weird kung foo magic and she just dropped to the floor!" He gave Charlie a high-five.
"Pressure points," Charlie says, smilling. Then he grows serious.
"Your shoulder's out of joint," he says.
"Really? I hadn't noticed," I say.
"We're gonna try to pop it back into place," Mitch says.
"How?" I ask.
"On it," Silas says, "Googling."
"The answer to everything," Aya says. Alina giggles. I still feel the last spurts of adrenaline running through my veins. I hear a car pull up, but I can't see it, since I'm laying down. Everyone else's heads snap in the same direction. I try to sit up to see. Mitch holds me down.
"Crap," she says.
"Damn it," Silas says.
"Swear jar," Alina says.
"Hands up, on the ground, now!" says a sandpapery voice I can't see.
"Get away from that kid," says another voice. Mitch holds her hands up and walks away from me. The first voice jogs to where I can see him and kneels next to me.
"You fine son?" he asks. He wears a star that says Sheriff Reid and looks like he bought it at Walmart.
"Yeah," I say, "Popped my shoulder, though. And I'm not your son."
"Maggie, call an ambulance," Sheriff Reid says.
"No," Silas says.
"Your friend needs help, young man," Maggie says.
"We'd rather handle it on our own, thank you very much," Silas says, "My name is Silas, and he's not my friend."
"I'm Officer Harwood. And Bill needs professional, medical help, not you handling it."
"If he needs professional help it's with a shrink, not a doc," Silas says. Mrs. Harwood heads towards the cop car. Silas blocks her way, limping.
"Get out of my way, Silas," she says. He's tall and lanky. His cheekbones stick out like knives when he's stubborn, and he sticks his chin up, making it look angular. He crosses his rail-thin arms, usually tan, are covered with scars and bruises. He smirks, his lip cut. He's an intimidating sight.
But Maggie wasn't one to be messed with. She pulled out her tazer.
"Silas, I'll say this once, get-" she began. Silas grabbs her wrist and twists the gun out of her hand, then returns to his casual, statue-like position. His smirk never leaves.
Mr. Reid reached for his real gun. Mitch is ready, and twists his wrist in the same way. He reaches for his tazer, but a tripp him.
"Gaaahh!" I gasp. I hadn't expected moving my legs would jar my shoulder so bad. Officer Harwood moves away from Silas, then takes out her real gun, pointing it at Silas. The deputy gets to his feet.
Mitch points her tazer at the deputy, and Silas points his tazer at Harwood. The deputy holds his hands up.
"Put your tazer down," Harwood says. Silas keeps his tazer pointed at her.
"Now!" she says, pointing her gun at Charlie.
"Now, now," Charlie says, "You're not going to shoot me, are you?" Harwood doesn't answer.
"That's right, and Mitch isn't going to shoot the deputy," Charlie says, "are you Mitch?" Mitch doesn't answer either.
"So lets just stay calm, and talk about this like adults," Charlie says, "We don't want Bilbo to go to the hospital. Bilbo doesn't want to go. We're gonna make it hard for you to take him to the hospital. So it seems that it's in everyone's best interest if you go now, and don't call the hospital." Charlie has his poker face on. Harwood glances at Deputy and nods.
"All right," Deputy says, "But we'll still need to take you all in. Can I have your parents' phone numbers?" He seemed to relax a bit as he said this, but it just made us more tense. We knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Umm, our parents don't believe in phones," Mitch says.
"Do you think we were born yesterday?" Harwood asks.
"No, but Tall-And-Hairy seems to think we were," Silas says under his breath, glancing at the deputy.
"We're gonna need backup," Deputy says into his walkit talkie. I glanced at Mitch. We would be out of luck if more cops came. We had to get out of here, fast.
Alina elbows Harwood between the shoulder blades. Harwood fumbles her gun, more of from surprise than pain. Aya snatches the gun from her hand.
"Hands up and on the ground!" Mitch says. Deputy pales. Harwood holds her hands up and kneels.
"Charlie, help Bilbo up," Mitch says, "Ay, get in the van. You too, Al." Alina starts backing toward the van, her gun still pointed at Harwood. Charlie helps me stand up. I fight back groans, and clutch my arm. It hurts worse standing. We make our way to the van. I wince with each step. I see Harwood looking at me with pity, and force myself to stop wincing. I taste the blood in my mouth, and realize I'm biting my tongue.
Silas starts backing towards the van. before he reaches it, the other police car pulls up.
"On the ground! Everyone out of the van!" someone shouts from inside the police car. Silas and Mitch hit the ground. The twins and Charlie get out of the van. I ease myself to the ground with my good arm. I try hard not to pass out with the pain.
"You okay?" one of the cops asks. He has dark hair and a Mexican accent. He looks to be in his early twenties.
"Yeah," I say, "Popped my shoulder." He winces sympathetically.
"I've done that," he says, "Hurts like hell." I nod.
"You can just sit here," he says as the older cop bellows order and the rest of the group line up by the police car and get hand cuffed. The younger cop stands next to me, as if I could bolt with a popped shoulder. I don't think so.
"Now will you tell us your parents' phone numbers?" Harwood asks. Before Mitch can make up an excuse, it starts raining. The cops herd the group into the cop cars. Young-Cop walks me into one of the cop cars too. I sit with Alina and Mitch.
"Nice job, Alina," I say. She grins at me.
"Yeah," Mitch says, "Alina's always full of surprises when it comes to fighting. It's the quiet ones you have to watch for." Mitch grins even bigger and swings her feet back in forth. Mitch and I exchange a look, and I know she's thinking the same thing as me. At least someone's happy. We're stressing out. But we have to put on a brave face for the younger kids. Old Cop and Young Cop hop into the front seats.
"I'm Rob Hernandez, by the way," Young Cop says.
"Sergeant Miller," Old cop says. We say our names. For the rest of the drive, we're silent. Freaking out inside, smiling outside.