“That’s right,” Tino said several hours later, talking to the small group of teens he’d found crashing together under one of the bridges over Cherry Creek. “It will be much safer than out here.”
“Because of the guy getting killed last night? Wasn’t that an accident? Some punk who likes beating on us who went too far?” one of the boys asked.
“Perhaps. Does that make it any different than if it was someone who’s getting his jollies by killing any of you he runs into?”
“Well…I guess not,” the boy admitted.
“You think that’s what happened?” a girl asked in a trembling voice.
“I sure hope not,” Tino replied. “Whether it is, or not, go to the shelter.” He told them the address, warning them it would probably be crowded, but there would be men there to keep things under control, if necessary
