If you've been to a public high school, you know how scary those kids can be. But how many of you have been to a public high school on the West Side? And how many of you have been to one so close to Los Angeles? It's a terror. Here are the high schools that are built like prisons, with security mesh glass and cinderblock walls and reinforced metal doors. These are the schools that have serious, bloody fights every other week. These are the schools that have bullet holes in the walls. These are the schools that I go to, and the schools that I've met the scariest people...

Los Malos

Chapter 1 (part 1)

Paco stood over the cowering figure, who shrank away with a whimper. “look, kid," he growled. "I can't wait around forever, and people who keep me waiting don't often miss their chance to answer.” He squatted next to him and grabbed his collar, giving him a rough shake. “How—did—they—know?”

The boy sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he wailed. "Really, I don't!"

Reiko took a step forward purposefully, and the boy quailed away from his towering form.

Paco didn't even look up. "Look, kid," he said menacingly. "Taylor saw you talking to the principal, and Vanya saw you talking to the cops."

"I didn't tell them!" the boy repeated, desparation in his eyes.

"Oh, so now Vanya and Taylor are liars?" Paco clarified, eyes narrowing. The scar that ran down his face horribly distorted the expression, but somehow, it only made the effect more eerie.

The boy instantly recongized his mistake. "No!" he cried. "I mean, they talked to me, but I didn't--"

Reiko moved forward and dragged the trembling boy to his feet, but before he could lay yet another blow on him, Paco stood and restrained him with a touch on his forearm. “Good enough, amigo,” he said. He turned back to the boy, his eyes hard and cold. "But we don't need kids like you running around blabbing to the cops." The boy's eyes widened, and Paco laughed. "Yeah, it's extreme," he said, "So we'll only let you off with a...souvenior."

Paco took the switchblade from his back pocket and flicked it open with an dangerous swish. The boy squirmed, pleading, but Reiko held him tightly. Paco grabbed the boy’s wrist and set the point of his switchblade on his captive's elbow. In a panic, the boy tried to pull away, but the knife slipped, cutting him deep around the elbow. He cried out and pressed his arm to his shirt, staining it with blood.

Paco stood back and closed the bloody knife, watching with amusement as Reiko let go of the boy. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his elbow in a poor attempt to steep the blood flow.

"That was stupid," Paco sneered, pocketing the knife. "Well, it wasn't my fault, now, was it?"

The boy only sobbed in reply.

“Oh, suck it up, you wimp,” Paco snarled, turning his back. “It’s just a scratch.”

Paco motioned to the rest of the gang to move out. “We're out, then,” he continued. “I’d watch your back tomorrow, though. You’d be lucky to escape us with a scratch and a few bruises.”

“Hold up,” someone called behind him.

Paco turned to see a boy of about sixteen running into the alley, with a thirteen year old girl behind him. The Latino youth cocked an eyebrow and turned to meet them with slitted eyes. “Why? What do you want?”

“We’re newcomers,” the boy said, motioning to himself and the girl. “We want to join.”

Paco glanced them up and down, and he smirked. “Oh, please," he sneered. "You look like you're from, what, Hillsborough? Posh kids always run at the first sign of trouble."

The girl stepped forward, fists clenched, but her anger ebbed slightly when Reiko stepped in her way. She satisfied herself by glaring at Paco. The boy reached for his pocket, but he eventually let his hand fall.

Paco watched them with interest. They obviously had weapons, but they were smart enough to realize this wasn't the best time to reveal them. The Latino stepped forward, very close, until the boy was forced to take a step back. “We’ll see what you're worth,” he said cryptically, placing a piece of paper into the boy’s pocket. “Meet up with us later. No weapons, no friends. We'll be watching long before you show up, so anything shady, and it's off. If you’re lucky. And, as a warning, the last person who stood us up was hunted down and lost a few fingers."

“We’ll be there,” The boy said firmly.

“Great,” Paco said with a satisfied nod. “We'll get out of here, then. Don't follow, or you'd wish you were this bastard.” He kicked at the sobbing figure, catching him in the ribs and sending him sprawling. The gang leader looked back with a cold sneer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that he turned, and the gang moved off, leaving the boy, the girl, and the unfortunate figure alone in the alley.

NEXT CHAPTER'S UP!!! YAY!!! http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post306269.html#306269

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