[WP] Being part of the Neighborhood Watch takes on a different meaning on the night of the Purge.

There were fires burning downtown, sending great pillars of thick smoke into the sky. But here in Pinehaven, things were mostly quiet. It's a peaceful little suburb, where people care more about staying safe with their families than going out to loot and pillage. *Most* people, I should say. And during the Purge, there are no cops to respond to calls; they're all out working private security gigs for exorbitant sums tonight. So it was just us in the neighborhood watch, all on our own. We didn't *have* to go out, but what's the point of even joining if you're not willing to do that duty on the one night that it matters?

I heard the tinkle of breaking glass from across the street, and shortly after, a scream from inside. It was the Cottard household; I didn't know them too well, but their daughter (Katie, I think?) is in my son's class. That's another benefit to living in Pinehaven: everyone knows everyone else. I clicked off my flashlight and dashed over to the house to surprise the would-be thief. It's nights like this that really remind me how out of shape I've gotten; even this short sprint has got me huffing and puffing. I made a vow to get back into the habit of running and lifting again. It's the same vow I make *every year*.

The back door hung open, swaying a bit in the breeze. One of the window panes was shattered, with jagged edges still hanging from the frame. And inside, the angry tone of a man giving orders that were too muffled to understand. I avoided the bits of glass on the floor as I made my way inside; they would make a noise that would give me away.

The first thing I saw was Ginny and Thomas Cottard, cowering together on their couch clutching their daughter tight. Thomas had a gash across his cheek, and his shirt was torn. Clearly the work of the long, gleaming knife in the hand of the robber who stood facing them in the living room. From behind, I could only see that he wore blue jeans and a black hoodie. But I could also see that the weapon was just a standard kitchen knife; this guy was no professional.

Katie spotted me. Her eyes went wide, and she squirmed and squealed. *Damn it*. The robber whirled around and thrust the knife out; if I'd been a few feet closer, it would have gone through my chest. I held my hands up in surrender, and looked into the thief's wild eyes. But I was surprised to find a familiar face staring back. "*David?*"

It wasn't some thug from the city who'd come out to pick on rich suburban families. David Marsh lived across the street from me. His family had been over for a barbecue just last weekend. I coached the boy's baseball team, for Christ's sake! We'd also had run-ins with him before on neighborhood watch patrols. Graffiti, egging houses, skateboarding at the middle school after hours, some drug use and partying at the foreclosed place on Colburn Street... all the regular rebellious teenager stuff. I couldn't really say I was surprised to see him out here tonight; just disappointed.

He removed his hoodie and grimaced. "You shouldn't be here, Mr. Lewis." He looked like he was about to vomit, and I swear I caught the scent of alcohol on his breath. He and some of the other kids had probably been the ones to raid that liquor store.

"I'm in the neighborhood watch, David." I kept my tone calm and gentle, like talking to a nervous dog. "Just trying to keep everyone safe tonight."

He waved the knife at me, then glanced back at the Cottards to make sure that none of them was going to try anything. "Just get out of here. Don't make me kill you!"

"Let's just calm down, David. You've known me your whole life. You wouldn't kill me, would you? Just put the knife down."

He glared at me. I could see his hand shaking.

"It's the Purge, David. You haven't broken any laws by coming here, OK? You're not going to get in trouble." That was really only a half-truth. There would be no *legal* consequences, but there would be hell to pay if his father found out that he went around breaking into people's houses.

David lowered the knife just a little bit. Behind him, Ginny gave a stifled sob and clutched her daughter even closer.

"Come on, David." I took a step closer and reached toward the knife. "No need to make things worse, right? What do you think, Tom?" I addressed Mr. Cottard for a moment. "If David here agrees to replace that window, I think we can just call it even?"

Tom nodded enthusiastically. He probably would have agreed to anything to get this kid out of his house right now. "That's right. Perfectly fine with me. Hell, forget about the window!"

David bit his lip. I took another step forward, then gently reached forward and pried the knife from his hand. Once I lifted one finger, his resolve broke and he just dropped the handle entirely. His entire body was quivering. "I'm sorry," he told the Cottards with tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry!"

"It's OK, David. Let's get you home."

We made our way out of the Cottard's home and through the silent streets toward his house. Unsurprisingly, we were the only ones walking around tonight. I kept the knife tucked safely in my belt while David shambled beside me. Finally, we turned the corner onto our street. Even from here, I could see the open window that he'd used to sneak out of his room.

"Are you going to tell my dad?" he finally asked. His eyes were trained intently on his shoes.

I sighed. "No," I finally answered. "I think you know what a stupid thing you did tonight."

He didn't answer, but he bobbed his head in agreement. We walked up his driveway and I rang the bell. "Mike, it's me." I'd hoped he'd recognize the sound of my voice, at least. "I found David out here. Open up!"

Three locks slid out of place, and the door swung open, revealing David's father, clutching a baseball bat and all ready to shout at his son. I spoke before he could get started. "Go on up to your room, David. I want to talk to your dad for a moment." He shot me one last fearful glance and disappeared into the house.

"What the *hell* did he do?" Mike growled. He was already dreaming up punishments.

"Go easy on him," I told Mike. "He was just out partying with some of the other kids. You know how it is." We'd all done the same at some point in our lives. I didn't mention the robbery attempt, or threatening the Cottards.

"Hmph. I'm going to ground this kid till he's old enough to collect social security." Mike's father looked back up the stairs, but his expression had at least softened a bit. "Thanks for bringing him back safe. I suppose a lot worse things could have happened."

I could still feel the weight of the knife in my belt. I suspected that their kitchen block would be missing one; I'd have to find a way to sneak it back in next time I came over. "No problem, Mike. That's why the neighborhood watch is out here, after all."