Chapter 815: Red Hood (Nine) (Patreon)

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With a resounding bang, the children inside the truck's carriage were all startled. Someone covered their ears and said, "Is it thunder? But why is the ground shaking?"

"What ground? Aren't you standing on the truck?" someone asked, and a taller child stomped their foot on the floor, saying, "It seems like the truck started..."

"Started? But isn't this truck already broken? How could it start?" someone asked, while Six-Fingered Sister, who was arranging blankets nearby, said, "Quiet down, go to sleep if nothing's wrong. Those on the other side, squeeze in a bit and leave some space, don't fill the truck up completely..."

Seeing her troubled expression, the others didn't dare to make a sound. After a while, Bruce stepped onto the truck and said, "I just fixed the car. Maybe later, we can drive somewhere else."

The children all stared at him with wide eyes. Some of them seemed to understand something, but they didn't discuss it. Instead, they asked Bruce, "How's Big Brother Jason? Is he okay?"

"He's fine, no fever, and his wounds haven't gotten infected. He's recovering well," Bruce said and then got off the car, turning back to say, "I need to check on him. If the truck starts later, don't be surprised, hold on tight."

After he left, the atmosphere inside the truck became silent. Some older children gathered together, and Six-Fingered Sister spoke up, "I knew Jason would do this. He must want to drive and rescue people..."

One of the African American boys said, "If I come across that Wes guy, I won't save him. I'll kick him into a mud pit!"

Another girl snorted and said, "Every time, we're the ones showing kindness. Those useless people never came to save us even once!"

Six-Fingered Sister tucked her brown-red hair and said, "Who made Big Brother Jason so capable? Besides, we have been luckier than them in some ways. Don't forget, during the last snowstorm, if it weren't for several gangs pooling firewood, many of us would have frozen to death."

"Yeah, it's because of the last time!" a boy said, sounding a bit dissatisfied. "It's rare that they're willing to contribute firewood. Well, if we have too few people, the Gang on top will demand even more."

"Later, those new kids who just arrived this year might cause conflicts. Don't forget to calm them down," the elder sister instructed. "If someone starts crying, be sure to stop them. Other gangs have children too, and if they all start crying, it's a disaster."

"Don't worry," a thin and delicate-looking girl said. "Today when I came back, I brought some candies. They work best for soothing them. Tina and I will take care of three each, and the rest is for you. If you can't manage, use the candies to shut their mouths."

"Be careful not to let children from other gangs see it. If they know we have good stuff, they'll definitely try to steal..."

The children chatted for a while, then took their respective positions. They hadn't communicated with Jason, but they understood his intentions.

In fact, their thoughts were different from Jason's. They didn't think about a supply-demand relationship, but they all knew that if there were fewer children, it wouldn't be good for anyone.

In the face of natural disasters and man-made calamities that could lead to a significant loss of manpower, people from the same class were more inclined to unite to protect their interests. This made them set aside their past grievances to ensure the strength of their group. Otherwise, if this class were weakened, they would all suffer together.

This was a very simple reason, which Bruce certainly understood. However, what he didn't expect was that this group of children, barely in their teens, also understood it clearly and were determined to follow through.

As the rain grew heavier, the sound of it hitting the buildings was no longer a lullaby but more like the drums of invasion. On a stormy night like this, no one could find peace, as such sounds prevented anyone from calming down.

Listening to these sounds, Bruce put down his pen. He stood up, reached out to close the window tighter to prevent moisture from getting in, and in that moment of thought transition, certain inspirations burst forth, helping him figure out how to describe the upcoming scenes.

"When the thunder struck the sky, I was driving the truck on a pitch-black street. The tires splashed through puddles, and the drops of water splattered inside the truck as the strong winds blew. I covered Jason's face with my coat; he couldn't afford to get any wetter..."

"Suddenly, I saw lights up ahead, a group of short figures standing by the roadside, waving at me. Without hesitation, I hit the brakes, and I heard screams from the back of the car. I knew some children must have fallen..."

"But the noise ahead grew louder, group after group of children rushed towards me, like a school of fish evading a natural predator, weaving through the raging wind and waves..."

"The rain-soaked ground was like a mirror, and I saw the sporadic beams of flashlights they held, flickering on and off. If I had been a little later, they might have been swallowed by the darkness. Thankfully, Noah's Ark arrived just in time..."

Bruce put down his pen, and amidst the rain, he heard the noisy voices.

"Quick! Marc! Hurry and pull him up, and her too. Go check on that girl; her shoes are all wet. Before coming in, pour out the water first..."

"Sal? What are you doing here? You damn scoundrel! Tell your people to move to the right, make some space. Who else is there? Who else? Hurry up! The rain will get heavier later!"

"All of you, move in, squeeze! Squeeze again! There are two more people not on board yet... Come on! Three! Two! One! Alright, drive! Drive quickly!"

In the driver's seat, with Bruce hitting the accelerator, Jason pulled off the coat that covered his face. He had just taken a nap and was awakened by the commotion. He asked, "What happened? Did we pick up some children from the nearby street?"

"All the children from the nearby street gathered together and just got on board," Bruce replied.

"They're smart," Jason said, feeling a bit more strength returning to him. He slowly sat up and added, "The children from those streets are not fools, unlike those idiots. They know they can count on me."

"Okay, let's turn around now. We'll go back to that deserted area, and we won't attract too much attention there. As long as we get through tonight, things will be much better," Bruce suggested.

Bruce sighed and was about to turn the steering wheel, but suddenly, a bright light flashed in his eyes. He squinted and saw on the other side of the intersection, a few small figures holding flashlights, looking around.

Bruce realized that they seemed to be members of another children's gang. Another truck rushed past them, splashing them with water, and the smallest child among them shivered, clutching their arms while crouching on the ground.

The rain outside was extremely heavy, and with the strong wind, raindrops felt like sharp fragments piercing the skin.

Such heavy rain would cause people to lose body heat rapidly. It appeared that the children at the intersection had been forced out of a basement by rising water and were stranded on the roadside. If things continued this way, they would surely die.

Bruce's hand on the steering wheel came to a halt, and then he turned in the opposite direction. Jason, who was lying in the seat, felt that the vehicle's direction was off and asked, "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"There are some children on the nearby street; I'm going to pick them up and then return," Bruce replied.

"No, you can't!" Jason immediately tried to sit up and said, "That nearby street isn't our territory. We don't know the gang there, and they won't allow us in!"

"But I can't just watch them freeze to death," Bruce replied. His voice trembled slightly when he mentioned "freeze to death," clearly recalling something.

"You stubborn fool! Don't you know the consequences of this?!" Jason clenched his fist and said, "You think you can save these children, but the result will be that we all die."

He sighed and added, "You don't understand, Gotham Gang has rules. We can't trespass into others' territory. If we sneak in, it's one thing, but driving a truck straight through, we'll be in serious trouble!"

Bruce hesitated for a moment, but he still made the turn and then reached out of the truck window, shouting to the group of children, "Get in!"

All the children were stunned, but the group of children outside saw something that could shelter them from the rain and immediately squeezed on board.

Bruce paid no attention to the arguments coming from behind; he knew that the truck had now gone beyond the territory of the Red Hood Gang. His brain was working rapidly, and he had to find a way out for these children before trouble arrived.

However, trouble came faster than he had anticipated. With a screech, the harsh sound of brakes was heard, and Jason let out a scream of pain as the shock from the brakes hit his wound. Bruce also bent over the steering wheel.

The small truck in front was much smaller than the truck, but it was carrying many gang members armed with guns. They shouted at the truck, "Who are you guys? What are you doing breaking into our territory?!"

Seeing the gun barrels pointed at them, Bruce tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and Jason, with a weak voice, said, "Raise your hands and open the truck  door; let them inspect this place..."

"You'll be found out," Bruce warned as he leaned back, "They'll throw you off!"

"That's still better than getting shot through like a sieve right away!" Jason raised his voice, "Quick, open the truck door; they're about to shoot!"

Bruce pounded the steering wheel hard, took a deep breath, and then opened the truck door.

Two gang members walked up, and when they saw a child in the passenger seat, they grunted and grabbed Jason's shoulder, trying to pull him out.

But from behind, they heard shouts from other gang members, "Boss, this whole truck is full of children! They might be from the neighboring street's children's gang!"

"Children? How did they get a truck?! Get them out!"

Jason let out a painful cry as he was pulled, but he didn't resist. Bruce saw that blood was trickling down the edge of Jason's coat.

The smell of blood filled the small cockpit, and Bruce's fingertips began to tremble, just like when he held the pen to write this passage.

"That smell triggered something in me. I felt a dark emotion enveloping my heart, a kind of anger different from what I had felt before..."

"I wanted to find a way out for this emotion, I knew it. I had to find a way out for it..."

"So, I stepped on the gas."

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 816: Red Hood (Part Ten)