Decker said, “Of course you’re not. You’re a victim. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Noam was gripping the gun, panting like a dog. “I don’t believe you! You’re lying! Just like my bubbe lied!”

“Noam, your bubbe didn’t lie,” Decker said, softly. “I figured it out on my own. Like I told you, I’m a cop. I’m a Los Angeles detective specializing in finding kids. Finding kids is what I’ve been trained to do, what I do for a living.”

The boy quieted, appeared to be listening.

Hersh said, “He’s full of shit, Nick-O—”

“I hate when you call me Nick-O, Hersh!” Noam shouted. “I hate it, hate it, hate it! I hate you!”

Decker looked at Noam, looked at the gun. The boy was still holding it tightly, but it was pointing at the ground.

“Noam, you’ve got to trust me. Show you how much I trust you, I’ll do this. You’ve got a gun, I’ve got a gun. I’ll put mine right here next to me.” Decker gingerly placed his weapon at his heel far enough for show but close enough to be retrievable. “Now you do the same.”

Noam didn’t move.

“Noam, you’re not going to shoot me. You’re not going to shoot anyone. I know you wouldn’t do that—”

“Dafuck do you know?” Hersh laughed out. “He shot the others.”

“Liar!” Noam screamed, shaking out of control. “Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar!”

“You’re goin’ crazy, Nicky,” Hersh screamed back. “Fuckin’ looneytunes! Do somethin’ before this dude does somethin’—”

“Shut up!” Decker tightened his grip on Hersh. “Put the gun down, Noam. Put it down now!”

Hersh shouted, “Shoot him like you shot the others, Nick-O!”

“Liar!” Noam screamed. “Liar! You’re my yetzer harah. I know it now. I hate you!”

“Drop the gun, Noam!” Decker said. “I’m going to take you back to your parents, but I can’t help you unless you drop your gun!”

“I hate you, Hersh Schaltz!” Noam shrieked. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” He gasped for breath. “I hate everybody! I hate me!”

In one swift motion, Noam brought the gun to his head.

“Noooooo,” Decker screamed as he jumped him. The gun discharged, nicking the top of the boy’s head. An instant red part oozed from his scalp. Noam brought his hand to his head and screamed that he was dying.

Decker knew it was only a graze. But Noam was the least of his problems. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hersh lunging for Noam’s fallen Beretta, his fingers wrapping around the butt.