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bringing it now… Yes, yes, very good stuff. Potent. You’re going to like it. I’ll meet you there…”
    Hector was paralyzed. Afraid to even breathe. Trying to still the deafening pulse of his heart. Hector knew that once terrorists find out you’ve discovered their plan, they cut your head off. He’d seen it on the news. And YouTube. And if he tried to run, they’d shoot him down.
    The driver put the phone away then he and Mr. Zahedi embraced. One of them said, Hector wasn’t sure which, “They’re going to like this.” The other laughed and said, “Allahu Akbar.” The driver climbed back into the van, slid the door shut, and drove off. Mr. Zahedi looked around to make sure no one had seen them, and slipped back inside.
    Hector slid around to the other side of the dumpster, but the van was already out of sight. There was only one thing he could do. His dad would have agreed. He took out his cell phone and, with a shaking hand, stabbed 9 – 1 – 1 into the keypad.

Ch. 5

     
     
    Hector’s mother was in the kitchen whipping up a meal, keeping her eyes on the tiny kitchen TV that was always tuned to the news. She smiled, but then her mouth dropped in concern. “Hector, honey, you okay?” she asked, giving a last glance at two men arguing on the TV before turning her full attention to her son. She put her hands on his shoulders.
    “What do you mean?” he stammered, gazing back into her eyes, while trying to avoid them. He was still shaking from his encounter with terrorists.
    “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “Almost wiped out on my bike,” he laughed nervously. “Dog ran right out in front of me. Stupid mutt.”
    She held on to his shoulders and Hector could feel her eyes probing his, looking inside him. But thankfully, she believed him, giving him a kiss on the forehead.
    Pappous appeared from out of the den, a giant smile plastered across his wrinkled face. “Hector my boy!” he exclaimed, oblivious to Hector’s mood, and wrapped his arms around him. “You’ll be big as Leonidas, soon!”
    “Hey, Pappous,” he answered with little enthusiasm.
    “Olympikiaos won in the Champions League today,” Pappous went on. “My old team. They’ll be playing Bayern in the second round. Are your guys ready?”
    Hector shrugged the old man’s arm away. Could he not take a hint? “Spring’s a long way off,” Hector said quietly. Pappous just nodded, then reached up and snapped off the kitchen TV as they sat down around the table.
    “Dad!” Mom exclaimed, with eyes suddenly wide. “Turn it back on!”
    “I’m not going to listen to that garbage while I eat,” he shot back. “Reminds me of Nazi propaganda I had to hear when I was a kid.”
    Oh crap, thought Hector. Here it comes. And it did. Hector pretended to listen, but all he could think of was what he’d seen this afternoon. The poison. The gun. His mother noticed he was quiet, occasionally shooting him a worried look. But Pappous eventually turned the conversation over to Helen who droned on about elections at school. She was going to run for class treasurer. Halie played with her mashed potatoes, heaping them into piles then smashing them flat before taking a microscopic bite.
    Mr. Zahedi loading buckets into a van; the image stuck in Hector’s head. Buckets of what? Something dangerous. Caustic. For what? Contaminating the water supply maybe. He’d heard that would be a good way for terrorists to attack here. Good thing he’d been there to see it and report it to the police. At the same time, he was terrified. Terrified he was right. And more terrified his mother would find out. Or Pappous. They didn’t get it, and would never understand. But Hector was sure he had done the right thing.
    He finished eating and blew through his chores before retreating to the upstairs bonus room. His game console there would allow him to avoid the real world a little longer. Since his father had died, the real world had become too real.