Ron shook his head, still bewildered.
"Good deal," Shock said. "Now let's finish that game. You play, kid?"
"No," Ron said. He staggered towards a wooden chair on the side of the room and dropped on it heavily. "No," he repeated, still trying to regain his breath.
Play the game....
His rescuer sat beside him. "Don't mind that guy," he whispered. "He does that to everybody. He got some kind of a power in his hands. But he's not a bad guy. Honest."
"Sure," Ron said weakly.
"We get a lot of kicks," the boy said eagerly. "You'll see. We have dogfights with the other gangs. With copters. We only got one, that ain't so much. But we're figurin' on gettin' some PF's next year, if we can collect enough dough in the treasury...."
"That'll be great," Ron said. Then he dropped his hand on the other's arm. "Listen—is there any chance of takin' a trip? In the copter?"
"Yeah, sure," the boy said warily. "Only you gotta ask for it in advance. I mean, it's Rocket property, and you gotta sign for it. And even then, if Shock wants to use it—well...."
"Why?" Ron said. "Why's that? Because he's the leader?"