Chapter 1
Kallie felt her heartbeat in her ears, like a hummingbird trapped inside her brain, and tried not to panic. Panic was not what she needed right now. It was about midnight and Seattle's streets were far from deserted. Where these people were going, Kallie hadn't the faintest idea. She wasn't exactly in an area that warranted entertainment value, unless you were seedy, and it was cold. Stupidly cold for October and her denim jacket provided next to no protection from the winds that were boarder-line hurricane gales. It was raining, not hard, but enough to seep into her bones and send her shivering as if she'd contracted the flu. Her backpack bounced reassuringly between her shoulder blades but, other than the weight of her only possessions on her back, Kallie didn't feel okay. She was as far away from okay as she'd ever been in her life.
Joe Mills wasn't supposed to be, theoretically, a bad guy: a little creepy, sure, but he'd had a stable job, more than what her mom had. He bought her Christmas toys. He wasn't exactly non-domestically violent but he wasn't crazy or anything. At least, not until three days ago when Kallie, out of fear and rage, left her apartment; she'd never run away before and now she could see why. The loneliness wasn't not nearly as terrifying as the complete helplessness that bit into her like a mosquito thirsty for blood. She felt young and stupid, like a little girl waiting in line for the scariest ride in the amusement park, the one that made gangbangers shit themselves and geeks vomit into the paper bags they were smart enough to bring along. Rubbing her hands together, Kallie pressed her lips to her ring—the one her mom gave her when she was eleven. It was turquoise and the lady who sold it to her had promised it would give protection to whoever wore it. Kallie never took it off, even for sleeping, and now she clung to it, desperate. She really hoped that nutty gypsy lady was right—of all days and nights, this is when she most needed some superstitious, spiritual-related shit to work.
Walking down First Street and turning onto Denny, Kallie found herself walking past a group of people surrounding a trashcan that appeared to have been make shifted into a portable fire. They were speaking softly to one another and Kallie briefly wondered if it was a cult. But the fire, as ghetto as it looked, was warm and enticed her like a moth to a flame. She hesitated, almost but not quite joining the group, but was close enough to hear what they were saying.
"Christ," one kid spat, green hair like a beacon, "When will Star get the message already?"
"Lay off, Ossie," a girl with almond-shaped blue eyes warned, her heart-shaped face illuminated by the firelight, "She's still being hunted down by social services. Fosters still haven't stopped looking for her. She's just trying to fit in."
"I can respect that," a different kid announced and it took Kallie a moment to register that the kid was not a punk boy but rather a very butch girl, "But, damn, Lyric, Star needs to get her head out of her ass and take a look around. Cops already running our asses and she's not exactly discreet…"
"Hustling isn't for everyone," the girl named Lyric argued and a taller boy, one with lanky black hair, joined in, "Yeah, Bullet, it ain't exactly a nine-to-five job. Lyric can tell you that."
Lyric's face flushed and Kallie felt a pang of pity for the girl.
"Thanks, Twitch," she muttered to the older boy, "Now why don't you just go to the nearest radio station and announce it over each frequency north, south, east, and west of Seattle?"
"All I'm saying…" Bullet began but she never finished what she was planning on saying because she noticed Kallie. Kallie froze, fear and shame mingling through her veins. Kallie never lived a sheltered life so she knew the realties most kids her age faced when life got rough. But she'd never actually met street kids before. She'd just ducked her head whenever she passed one begging for spare change. Well, none of them were begging for change now because they were all busy staring at Kallie, wondering who the hell she thought she was.
"Can we help you?" a black boy with lipstick and eye shadow demanded, his long eyelashes casting shadows across his cheekbones, "This ain't McDonalds, sweetheart, so we ain't ready to give you no drive-in order. Move along,"
"I'm cold," Kallie whispered, lips cracked and her voice hoarse, "I was here for the fire."
"Make your own damn fire then," Lyric snorted, "It took us forever to light this thing without authorities telling us to put it out."
For a brief moment, anger flashed by Kallie. What the fuck? Did this Lyric chic think Kallie wanted to be roaming these stupid streets at one in the morning? Kallie had lots of things written down on her bucket list but freezing to death with no home to go to was not anywhere on it.
"Look," Kallie snapped, her anger warming her and making her bold enough to take a step towards Lyric, "I'm not asking to join your secret club or whatever. I'm cold as fuck out here and I just wanted to get warm before I moved on. Can you handle that?"
"Excuse me?" Lyric demanded but Kallie noticed it was the green haired boy and Twitch who shuffled forward, as if they were her body guards, "Who the fuck are you?"
"Who are you, Queen of Seattle?" Kallie shot back, bewildered by the power this little girl seemed to have over this little band of weirdos, "Newsflash: being the number one hooker on Denny Street isn't something to be lording over everyone."
"What?" Lyric yelped and Kallie was aware she had crossed a line. But it wasn't the green haired guy or Twitch who went for Kallie's throat. Instead, it was Bullet; Kallie gasped as she felt her head smash into the brick exterior that the kids were huddling outside of and struggled as Bullet's forearm pressed into her windpipe,
"You need to shut up now," Bullet hissed, her face inches from Kallie's. Kallie made to bite Bullet's arm but Bullet didn't seem to notice. Twitch and Lyric looked awestruck. But the green haired boy seemed intent on egging on a fight. The rest of them went along with Green Hair and started shouting. Kallie really wished she had more brain cells. Picking a fight with a street kid who looked like she kept knives inside the lining of her Doc Martens wasn't her most shining hour of brilliance. But Kallie who, unlike her mother, never backed down from a fight with an assailant; when Joe kicked the shit out Danette that night, it had only been Kallie who bothered kicking back.
Kallie reared her dangling legs back, oxygen depleting from her brain rapidly because, you know, it was no joke being slowly suffocated to death, connected her feet with Bullet's lower half. This prevailed in Bullet being forced to loosen her grip and Kallie, freed momentarily, started to run.
You really need to visit a surgeon to see if you can get a brain transplant, Kallie berated herself as she sprinted down the block, not daring to look behind in case Bullet was catching up. Why was it always her who got into this shit? Why couldn't she be the alternate-universe Kallie, the Kallie who kept in school and who had a normal mom and girlfriends who liked to shop and study for midterms instead of smoking up behind the school dumpsters? Couldn't she just teleport herself into that other world, where her life didn't suck, and be happy? Was that so hard?
However, Kallie was so wrapped up in her thoughts; she slowed her pace only slightly. This was enough for Bullet (who apparently received her nickname because of her outrageous speed) to tackle her to the sidewalk. The kids surrounded them, catching up, and cheered as Bullet pushed Kallie onto her back, throwing a right hook into her face. Kallie gasped: the pain was unreal.
"That was for Lyric," Bullet told her and Kallie didn't raise her arms in time for her to defend herself from the next blow, this one aimed at her gut, "And that one was for running away."
Kallie didn't really want to wait around for Bullet to make up more excuses for pummeling her into pulp so instead, Kallie used all her failing strength to roll Bullet off of her hips so they swapped positions; Kallie was now straddling Bullet. Lyric let out a scream as Kallie kneed Bullet in the side. When she let her fist spring forward to jab Bullet in the nose, Bullet grabbed her wrist, stopping the assault.
"Leftie," she acknowledged, winking, "How original,"
"Take her out, Bullet!" Twitch yelled and Kallie was dismayed when Bullet, victorious in distracting her, forced Kallie onto her knees, swinging around behind her and grasping her arms and twisting them. Kallie grimaced but refused to yell out. Bullet's mouth was at her ear,
"Mercy?" she whispered, yanking hard enough for Kallie to hear her arm sockets pop. Kallie was breathing hard, the blood running out of her nose making it hard for her to concentrate.
"Go on, Bullet!" Green Hair dude yelled, "Grow some balls!"
Even Kallie knew this was the wrong approach to take. Bullet, seeming irritated that this punk had halted her progress in making Kallie beg for her life, stood up abruptly and grabbed Green Hair by the front of his shirt, shaking him so hard Kallie was afraid his neck would snap.
"You calling me a pussy, Simone?" Bullet snarled and Simone, looking as if he'd wet himself, shook his head. But Bullet had already kicked him in the crotch, forcing him to his knees like she forced Kallie onto hers. She kneed him in the nose, toppling him over,
"Lights out, Fuck-face." She spat and looked up to receive wide-eyed stares from the rest of the kids.
"Clear out," she barked, for now ignoring Kallie as she wiped at her face with her sleeve, "All of you. Show's over."
Twitch looked reluctant to leave but Lyric, probably sensing that Bullet was probably close to kicking the shit out of all of them if need be, led him away by his arm. Kallie shrank as Bullet strode over to where she sat. Grabbing her arm roughly, Bullet hauled Kallie to her feet and examined her face critically.
"It's not broken," she told her and Kallie couldn't help but snort,
"May I see your doctorate?"
"I've seen enough broken noses to know. Yours isn't," Bullet cocked her head to the side, "Your not bad in a fight."
"Yeah," Kallie muttered, "I totally whooped your ass."
Bullet laughed and it was quite opposite from her appearance; light and jovial and kind of husky, like she wasn't used to using it.
"My name's Bullet," she reiterated. Kallie nodded,
"I caught that."
"Sorry about that but," Bullet shrugged, as if Kallie's rudeness warranted her extreme beating, " you were kind of pissing us off."
"Okay," Kallie muttered and started to move away when Bullet skidded into her path,
"Wait, wait!" she looked surprised, "Aren't you going to stick around?"
"No," Kallie enunciated, "I want to keep my bones unbroken, thanks."
"I won't beat you up," Bullet promised, spreading her arms as if in a gesture of peace, "Scout's honor,"
Kallie hesitated and then sighed. Where else did she have to go?
"I'm Kallie," Kallie muttered. Bullet's smile was wide and, Kallie had to admit, kind of cute.
"That's a weird name. But I guess my name's weird too, huh?"
"How old are you?" Kallie questioned suspiciously. Bullet shrugged,
"I'm almost sixteen. You?"
"Fifteen," Kallie fidgeted with her ring and, looking over, noticed Bullet's wrist.
"Is that a tattoo?" she was impressed. She always wanted a tattoo but was always too chicken to go through with it. Bullet winked again,
"You like it?" Bullet held up her wrist for deeper inspection, "I got it when I was thirteen,"
"Did it hurt?"
"Like a bitch,"
"What does it mean?"
"It means that no matter how shitty things get, there's still something out there, you know?" Bullet explained after a moment, looking thoughtful, "I told myself that when I ran off."
"You runaway?"
"Most of us did."
"What was so bad about home?"
"It was bad enough," Bullet told her shortly and then grinned, "What about you?"
Kallie looked away,
"I have one. Its just kind of…hazardous at the moment."
Bullet nodded wisely, as if all girls she pummeled into the sidewalk had shitty home lives, and shrugged off her jacket. She had a plaid sweater underneath.
"Here," she put it around Kallie's shoulders and Kallie was too shocked to protest, "You look like your nose is about to fall off."
"Thanks," Kallie stuttered and Bullet shrugged,
"No big thing. You want some soup or something? There's a shelter down the block that'll be open."
"You go to shelters?"
"How else do we get food?" Bullet walked beside her as they navigated their way through the alleyway, "Anyway, you should probably know that those kids? Their my bros. And Lyric? She's my girl."
"That's really cool," Kallie enthused, putting her tolerant face on, "How long have you been together?"
Bullet blanched, going so white she was practically grey, before spluttering out an explanation,
"We ain't dating, dog. We ain't even a thing. I just meant I've known her for, like, ever." Bullet clarified, "She's with Twitch."
"Twitch?"
"Yeah, his name suits him, doesn't it?"
"Isn't he a little…"
"Old? Yeah. It's gross," Bullet shrugged, "But if we're all lucky, he's off to LA. You know, in his dreams, but a girl can hope. Lyric's crazy about Twitch and Twitch is crazy about himself," Bullet paused, "Was that too much information?"
"It's interesting,"
"Thought it would be," Bullet smirked, "We're like some big, fabulous dysfunctional family out here. It's how this works,"
"How what works,"
"The Jungle," Bullet answered cryptically before gesturing to a dingy looking building, "Up for some tin can soup with the added extravagance of dents in the can?"
"Um…sure," Kallie paused, unsure. Bullet didn't miss her hesitation. Her smile faltered.
"Trust me," she said quietly, "It'll be okay. It always is. Have faith," she pointed to her wrist like a cartoon pointing to the ticking time bomb, "you're going to hearing that a lot from me so you'd better get used to the cheesy cliché,"
Kallie nodded once and, before she could chicken out, followed Bullet into the shelter.