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Humph? ” Collin asked, eyeing the weapon warily.
    “ Found it in some dead dude ’ s satchel in one of the railcars. And don ’ t call me that, Sticks. ”
    “ You know how to use it? It ’ s not a toy —”
    “ You just don ’ t know when to shut up, Sticks. Any douchebag knows how to shoot a gun … you just point and pull the trigger. ” Collin nearly jumped out of his skin when Humph suddenly fired off two rounds toward the back of the plane.
    Kids shot up in their seats while others rushed in from the other cabin.
    Bubba filled the bulkhead opening, looking ready to kill. “ What ’ s all the mo-fo shootin ’ about?! ”
    Humph smiled and blew onto the end of the pistol. “ There ’ s a new sheriff in town, folks. I ’ ve got us covered. ”
    “ And that ’ s two rounds lost that we might need. You ’ re truly an idiot, Humph, ” Collin said, leaning forward — his right fist clenched so tight his knuckles looked white.
    Humph turned the gun toward Collin and everyone went quiet. Collin kept his eyes on Humphrey ’ s face — his arrogant, condescending smile; his brooding hate-filled eyes.
    “ Bro … you need to put that piece away. Sticks is right. There ’ s something out there and you takin ’ pot-shots in the plane is dumb-ass. ” Bubba took a step forward, his towering hulk looking far more threatening than the gun held in Humphrey ’ s hand.
    Humph continued to smile as he slid the Glock into the waistband at the back of his pants.
    “ You might want to think about putting the safety on that weapon, Humph … unless you want to have two ass holes, ” Collin said.
    Humphrey laughed it off while pulling the Glock free and setting the safety. He replaced it back into his waistband and smiled over at Bubba. He held a fist out in front of himself. “ It ’ s put away. We cool, man? ”
    Bubba hesitated and then reluctantly bumped the outstretched fist with his own. “ Yeah … sure … we cool. ”
    “ Um … we need to eat, ” Collin said, getting up out of the seat. “ With auxiliary power going, we can start warming up some of the ready-made meals they offer folks in first class. ”
    Collin entered the galley kitchen where three teen boys were leaning against the counter tops, blankets draped over their shoulders, and drinking from an assortment of little liquor bottles. Apparently someone ’ d said something funny because all three were laughing hysterically.
    “ Hey, Frost, you come to party? ” Clifford Bosh, the Lone Stars ’ high-scoring wide receiver, asked, holding up a small, unopened Smirnoff bottle. The other two, Owen Platt and Garry Hurst — both running backs — let their laughter subside as they brought their attention to Collin.
    “ Maybe later. Hey, Hurst, let me get by you. I think there ’ s some ready-made meals in that cart behind you. ”
    Hurst used a forearm to slide his collection of still-unopened bottles down the countertop and took a possessive position there. Collin found the top handle on the recessed cart and gave it a pull. It shook but didn ’ t come free.
    “ Wait, you gotta unlatch it, man, ” Owen said, leaning over to the red latch mechanism at the top of the cart. Unsteady on his feet, he needed several tries before the lever finally turned sideways, out of the way.
    “ Thanks, ” Collin said, rolling the refrigerated cart free and out into the galley. He opened the top drawer and found a row of foil-topped meal containers. He touched the first one. “ Still cold. ”
    It took him several minutes to figure out the controls for the row of top-mounted ovens. With the help of Clifford, Owen and Garry, they got the cold meals loaded into the ovens and the meal heating process started.
     
    * * *
     
    Collin ate with DiMaggio and Tink and several cheerleaders he didn ’ t know very well.
    “ So what ’ s next? ” DiMaggio asked, his mouth full of chateaubriand steak and gravy. “ We can ’ t stay here forever. ”
    Tami Drake