Tulsa was in chaos—a war between Socs and Greasers had finally begun after Bob had turned up dead, Pony and Johnny being the culprits.

Rain poured heavily as you ran through the streets, navigating the familiar route to the Curtis household. You saw the living room light on from where you stood, like a beacon of light. Darry. Hopefully he was even there, and not already involved in premature rumbles. Battered and beaten, you trudged towards the door.