Sebastian jumped to his feet.
“What? You think we can’t do this? You think we can’t take care of ourselves and have fun?” Sebastian shook his head.
“Come on! The stupid Admiral? He called us scabs, right?” Sebastian’s face darkened. “Picked off and thrown away, he said. But now he’s gone. And here we are. Still around. ’Cause you know what you get when you keep picking at a scab?”
He looked around at them, his eyes shining.
“Bloody fingers?” Miguel suggested.
“An infection?” Walter asked.
“No!” Sebastian spat. “You get a scar, idiots. A scar. And scars are tough. The Admiral was wrong. We ain’t scabs. We’re scars.”
“Yeah!” Benny piped up eagerly. “Scars, man!”
Jonathan’s stomach suddenly twisted and tightened. He blinked quickly and rubbed at his sleeves with sweaty palms.
Sebastian’s mouth spread into a grin and he opened his arms wide.
“Look around, guys! This whole place belongs to us. We’re the kings. No one to boss us around. No one to get us in trouble. It’s our island now. Ours. We don’t need nobody. ’Cause we’re Scars now. Scars with a capital S. The tough Scars that got left behind. It’s our island.”
“Hell yeah!” Roger cheered in his deep voice. “Our island!”
“Our island!” Gregory echoed.
Sebastian slammed his fist down on the table, his face glowing with triumph.
“This whole island belongs to the Scars now!”
“Scar Island!” Benny crowed.
Sebastian had them now. There were cheers and smiles and high fives. Even Walter was nodding his head and grinning.
“This ain’t Slabhenge anymore!” Sebastian hollered. “It’s Scar Island from now on! Say it!”
“Scar Island!” all the boys shouted.
All the boys except Colin, who just sat looking around, pale and frowning.
And all the boys except Jonathan, still rubbing his arms and blinking.
Sebastian sat back down, his face flushed.
“The jerks are gone,” he said. “We can do. Whatever. We. Want.”
There was more clapping, more cheering.
“Except … we should eat meals together, I think,” Sebastian added. “To check in. Make sure we’re all okay. That makes sense, right?” He looked at Jonathan. Jonathan dropped his hands quickly from his arms. He shrugged and nodded.
“So do whatever you want, guys. Run around. Eat some more. Whatever. But be back here for dinner. Have fun, Scars.”
Everyone sat and looked at each other for a moment. Then Francis stood up and started toward the kitchen. David got up and headed for the door that led outside.
“Wait,” Jonathan said. “What about the generator? We still need electricity, right? For the fridge and the … freezer?”
Sebastian pursed his lips. “Oh, yeah. Right. We’ll, uh, take turns. It only has to get done, what, like three times a day?” He looked to Benny, who nodded eagerly. “We’ve all done it, we know how it works. So, first, how about … you and you,” he said, pointing at Miguel and another kid Jonathan didn’t know yet. “Head down and fill it up.” They grumbled and trudged away together.
Slowly the rest of the boys wandered away in different directions, most in groups of two or three. Sebastian headed out into the courtyard. Benny followed like a puppy at his heels.
Colin and Walter and Jonathan were the last left at the tables. Colin still looked unhappy.
“Cheer up,” Jonathan said to him. “Now the good times start.” Colin just rolled his eyes.
“So … what is there to do around here?” Jonathan asked.
It was Walter’s turn to roll his eyes. “Who knows? All we ever did was work, man. Mop the floors, clean the kitchen, scrub the toilets. I’ve been here weeks and I bet I ain’t seen any more of the place than you have.”
“Well, then,” Jonathan said, standing up. “Let’s go exploring.”
Walter hopped up to join him, and after a moment Colin did, too.
“We’re gonna need lanternth,” Colin said with a sigh. “I know where they keep them. Matcheth, too.”
A few minutes later, the three of them were walking through one of the snaking, shadowy hallways that had been so confusing to Jonathan the night before. Jonathan and Walter each held a hissing lantern.
“This place is like a maze,” Jonathan said, moving his lantern from side to side to banish suspicious shadows in the corners.
“It is a maze,” Walter said. “I heard they built it that way on purpose, to confuse the crazies. So only the guards would know their way around, you know?”
Jonathan slipped on an especially slimy stair and, putting out his hand to catch himself, almost grabbed a huge brown rat. He jerked his hand back and the rat squeaked angrily and slithered into a hole between two blocks.
“Well,” he said, standing up. “If they weren’t crazy when they got here, I bet it didn’t take too long to get that way.”