‘Listen,’ I say, lowering my voice, trying to get control of the situation. ‘You will take the hundred bucks and you will walk away. If you don’t, I’m not going to hold my friend back anymore. Believe me, you don’t want that. You have no idea what he can do and you don’t want to know.’

I’m not entirely surprised when the answer comes in the form of a fist. It comes from my right and I easily dodge it. I grab the trucker’s wrist, and throw him down. BK looms over him, still growling, and the man shrinks back.

‘My turn!’ Nine says gleefully, pushing me out of the way.

The bearded trucker swings his knife wildly at Nine, who steps lightly out of range. On his next swing, Nine ducks under the blade and hooks his arm beneath the man’s armpit, slamming him to the ground. He kicks the knife out of the trucker’s hand and it goes skidding under a truck. ‘Dude, you should listen to my wise pal over there. You seriously do not want to mess with us.’

‘All right, all right. We’re done here,’ I say, placing my hand on Nine’s shoulder. ‘And now, we’re all going to walk away. Let’s go.’

I hear the hammer of a gun click. We freeze. The trucker with the aviator glasses waves a . 50 -caliber Desert Eagle at us. I don’t know everything about guns, but I know this one packs a very big punch. He sounds pretty serious when he asks, ‘Which of you wants to die first?’

Of course Nine steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Me.’

He raises the gun towards Nine’s face and laughs at what he thinks is just bravado. ‘Don’t tempt me, punk. Killing you would be the highlight of my day.’

‘Well, then, shoot. No reason to put off the highlight of your day. You don’t look like you get a lot of them.’ Nine says. I sigh, knowing this is all going to end badly. And after, there will be attention we don’t need.

At this point things begin to move really fast. First, a sudden and very loud blast from a nearby truck startles the gun-touting trucker, who fires off a shot. Nine stops the bullet with his mind, just inches from his nose. With a grin and a tilt of his head, he spins the bullet midair and sends it racing back at the shooter. He sees the bullet coming his way and turns tail and runs as fast as his legs will take him.

I turn to look at Nine. This guy is having way too much fun. I know what he’s going to do and I know it is a bad, bad idea. ‘No. Nine. Don’t do it,’ I say, shaking my head, knowing he is going to do it anyway.