Billionaire Mountain Man

"No problem. I hope you can find out whatever it is that you need to find out!"

"Come on, Ben, let's hustle!"

We ran across the entrance lobby, skipping the elevators and heading straight for the stairs. We dashed up the three flights of stairs. Ben was pretty out of breath by the time we got to the top, but I still had plenty of steam left, even though my shoulder, with the gunshot wound, was aching a little. I didn't bother to wait for Ben; there was no time. Instead, I sprinted down the hallway, looking for room 35C.

I found it right near the end, and there, lying on a bed, with all sorts of tubes hooked up to his body, was a tall, skinny high school kid. He was still conscious, but he looked very woozy. I guess they had pumped him full of painkillers. Not bothering to wait for Ben, I charged into the room.

"Kendrick Green! Are you Kendrick Green?" I asked eagerly.

He turned his head slowly to the side and looked at me with a half-confused expression on his face.

"I... yeah... I'm Kendrick Green. Who... who are... you?"

"I'm Everett James, your new principal at JFK High."

"Oh, yeah, man... that's where... I saw you... before..."

"Listen, Kendrick, I heard about what happened. And I want to say thank you. Thank you for doing your best to fight these drug-dealing scumbags who are ruining these kids' lives in our neighborhoods and our schools. You're a true hero, Kendrick, a true hero – and I'll see to it that you're properly honored and rewarded for your heroism. Right now, though, before you go into surgery, we just need you to ID the kids who were buying the Rocket. Can you do that for us? Ben – Mr. Henderson, the deputy principal, he's bringing a yearbook to show you pictures so that you can show us exactly who it was who was buying the drugs. Can you do that?

"Yeah... I... can..."

Ben came stumbling into the room, huffing and puffing with his face bright red from exertion.

"He's still conscious?" he asked.

"I... am... Mr. Henderson," replied Kendrick, recognizing Ben.

"You're a good kid, Kendrick, a real good kid. And you did an amazing thing today. And we're very, very sorry that this happened to you. But can you help us, just with this one thing?"

"I can... I... can..."

Just then, however, a doctor burst into the room.

"Hey!" he shouted. "What the heck is going on here?! You're not supposed to be in here! No visitors in this ward at all! Get out, immediately! That patient is in critical condition! Get out now!"

"Just hold your horses, we need to ask him a question or two," I replied. "Then we'll leave."

"No, you'll leave right now."

"Ben, bring the book over here and show Kendrick the pictures."

Ben hurried over to the side of the bed, opening the yearbook to the pages we needed to show Kendrick.

"I'm calling security," muttered the doctor as he stormed off.

"We'd better hurry, Ben. Looks like we've got about thirty seconds for Kendrick to ID those kids before we're forcibly removed from here."

"Alright, Kendrick," Ben said as he showed Kendrick the pictures. "Can you identify the kids who were buying the drugs? I know there are several classes of kids to look through, but just look and see if you can recognize them."

Kendrick started peering at the faces, and that was when I heard the heavy tramping of footsteps running down the hallway.

"They're in 35C!" I heard the doctor shout. "Get them out by whatever means necessary!"

I headed to the door, determined to hold off the security guards for as long as it took Kendrick to identify the kids.

I popped my head out the door and saw three burly security guards armed with Tasers and batons charging our way.

"You!" one of them shouted, pointing a thick finger at me. "Get out of here now, before we're compelled to use force to remove you!"