And Darkness Fell by David Berardelli

break it up, but several of them rushed me and tossed me out.
Literally picked me up, carried me back out into the hall, and dumped me—as if I
were garbage!”
“Did you report it?”
“That’s what got me in trouble. The parents of at least twenty of those vicious
savages brought in their attorneys and threatened to sue me for assault if I
pursued it.”
“Assault?”
“When I tried breaking it up, they said I pushed a couple of them too hard. I
hadn’t noticed at the time because I was running on pure adrenaline and
concerned about the poor victim. One of the idiots I’d pushed tripped, while
another slammed into a urinal. The first one complained of a wrenched back and
sprained wrist. The second showed up with photographs of bruises on his arm. He
also claimed I’d knocked his shoulder out of its socket.”
“What about the rape victim?”
Reed shuddered. “She was dead before the police arrived. I have no idea how
or what caused it. They’d beaten her during the rape. Her face was a mess. A
bloody nose, swollen lips, and numerous lacerations. But the actual cause? I can’t
say. They could’ve choked her, accidentally or otherwise.”
“And that was that?”
“The jocks didn’t have to worry. Their daddies all had political clout, as well
as an arrangement with the football coach. Two of them had already landed full
athletic scholarships at big schools. Apparently, their daddies had been greasing
the right pockets for years, so they were untouchable.”
“Big money killed the whole thing.”
“They told me the dead girl was a slut who’d been coming on to the jocks for
weeks. They also said she’d arranged the whole thing. Everyone said her death
was an accident, so that was the end of it.”
“What about her bruises?”
“They said she liked it rough.”
“And since everyone filmed it, it could probably be argued that she actually
consented to it.”
“It never got anywhere near the courtroom, but the whole world saw it online.
I’m surprised you never heard of it.”
“I was never big on using the ’Net and never liked watching the news.”
“They put it on the ’Net and it received more than three million hits in one
day. One of them even charged twenty-five cents a hit. He made a fortune.”
“So you had to drop it.”
“The death threats convinced me.”
“Death threats?”
“It started with the clowns in the men’s room, then their friends, relatives, and
so on. Hundreds of threatening emails arrived in my inbox every day. I got them
at school and at home. I received regular mail threats, too, and anonymous phone
calls at all hours. When I found a dead pigeon in the front seat of my car, I knew
it was time to move on.”
“Can’t blame you.”
“I was stupid and naïve to think I could actually do something about it. I
blame society for letting it happen. We’re all guilty when we let an atrocity
happen without doing anything about it.”
“None of the other teachers backed you up?”
“Many were threatened for talking to me. It was a horrible, impossible
situation.”
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?”
“Look what we’re facing now.”
    We crossed into North Carolina and reached Fayetteville just before noon.
A glance at the gas gauge prompted me to take the exit ramp. The needle had
settled just above a third of a tank. I didn’t want it to get lower. I also needed to
stretch my legs. Reed still appeared somewhat despondent after telling me his
story and had said little since. He obviously needed a break as well.
Just beyond the exit ramp, the road went straight. About a hundred yards from
a stop sign, an abandoned service station sat quietly on its concrete slab, its
yellow flags flopping intermittently in the breeze like the wings of a dying bird.
I pulled up to the pumps closest to the gray-block building that said BUD’S
ONE-STOP in large letters with something printed in Chinese characters directly
beneath it. The Chinese restaurant and souvenir shop next