Author's Note: Well this is my new story, and I'm on the brink of exams, so I won't be able to update either for the time being. So, please, tell me what you think of it. Also, updates are going to come slower for this story, as the chapters will be bigger.

You know there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
We got bills to pay
We got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No we can't slow down
We can't hold back
Though you know we wish we could
No there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good

-Ain't No Rest for the Wicked, Cage the Elephant

Chapter 1

Feeling Lucky

The boy under the hood stood in the shade of a dark alley. He wore simple beige cargo pants and a thin black wool jacket, slightly tattered, with some old dusty brown leather boots. He leaned casually against the wall, and his appearance warranted no attention from the crowded streets of Manhattan and that was just the way he liked it. His watchful and ever alert brown eyes were constantly scanning the crowd, yet his expression betrayed no intent. He came here or went to another similar location as he usually did every other day, and looked for a suitable mark.

He'd been standing here for little over an hour but he had no shortage of patience, as it was something he'd perfected from years living on the streets.

Being Manhattan, there was always someone suited to what he had in mind, and it came in the form of unwary business man. He seemed lax and at ease, in a happy mood. Obviously hasn't been a business man for long, or at the very least, hasn't been a business man in New York for long.

Luckily, the business man was on the same side of street as him. It was always a pain, trying to cross the street whenever there was a crowd like this because he'd easily lose his mark, and there was always a crowd like this.

The business man walked a fair pace, easy to keep up with, but if the crowd held him back for too long, the boy under the hood would lose him. The business man came to stand at the back of a crowd gathered by a road crossing, and the boy calculated the risks. It would be easier to pick his pocket while he was still, but with the current conditions, someone was bound to notice. Better to wait for when they're in motion. The boy walked across the crossing, at the same pace as the business man, and waited until they were over the other side.

As the boy sped up his pace, he noticed the businessman's pockets; both were shallow, and one was bulging slightly, in the familiar shape of a wallet.

They boy never felt bad about doing this, but he made sure he picked marks that looked like they weren't short on change. For them, it was usually just to get something they didn't really need. For him, it was food for a few days, and if he was really lucky, a hotel room for one or two nights.

As he approached the business man, he flexed his fingers a little. He didn't have to worry about noise, as there was always plenty of that from the cars and the people. He got right behind him, and stretched his arm forward slightly. He dipped his index and middle finger into the man's pocket without him feeling a thing. He pulled the wallet out between the fingers, and he quickly shoved it under his jacket. He'd inspect the contents later. For now, he'd slip away from the crowd without looking too suspicious. He followed the crowd for just a minute, before he came across a shady alley that he slipped into; there were no shortages of those around here.

Once he was suitably deep into it, he pulled off his hood, revealing a mop of dark brown hair, and skin that was neither tan nor pale. People often said that if he had a tan he'd look like a surfer. Before he'd run away, people also told him that he took after his mother, but he didn't really know what to think about that. His mother died in child birth, and he'd been passed around from orphanage to foster home and back to orphanage again, until one day in the dead of night, he'd decided he had enough of being tossed around the state like that. He grabbed a bag from the place, stuffed a few things in it, some food and water, and everyone's money (except for the other kids of course; he had some sympathy).

The boy's mother, the one who died before he ever knew her, was Sally Jackson. Her son was the boy under the hood, counting money from a stolen wallet. His name was Perseus. Percy, as he preferred to call himself, didn't know much about his mother. In fact, her name was the only thing he ever knew about her.

But back to the present, Percy was counting the contents of the wallet he'd just nicked.

"One hundred and… seventy six dollars." Percy grinned; this was one of his better hauls. But still, it didn't beat the day he'd discovered five hundred dollars in a single wallet, which was roughly six months ago. That day, he slept in a four star hotel, and had some hot food for a change. But all of that had paled in comparison to two simple things in the hotel: a hot shower, and bed with clean sheets and an actual roof over it. The shower had been the first he'd had in two months, and the first hot one he'd had in a year.

Currently near Battery Park, Percy stuck the money in his pocket, threw the wallet aside and made his way to the Soho neighbourhood. It was along the way to where he was going, so Percy didn't mind making the trip. He didn't usually mind anyway.

He found the person who he was looking for, in the same place he usually did, sitting cross legged in an alley, with his typical calm expression on his face. He looked to be in his mid thirties. He was bald, which was unusual for person living on the streets. Coupled with his Asian appearance, Percy couldn't help but think he looked like a wise, homeless Buddha.

He looked up and smiled when he saw Percy. "Ah, Perseus, it's good to see you again my friend." He got up, and they embraced in a quick hug.

Percy smiled back. "Hey Hiro, look, I just good a pretty good catch today, and I… wanted to share, you know, as thanks."

He pulled out a fifty, a twenty and a few gold coins, and dropped them into Hiro's palm.

Hiro smiled. "Thank you Perseus. Pickings have slim as of late, but please, don't do this again, you need it more than I, and I can handle myself. Though it's much appreciated."

Percy nodded. "Okay then, sorry to make this short but I gotta go, I think the weather is about to turn bad. I'll see you around."

Hiro smiled, and went back to sitting cross legged in the alley. He was as close to a father figure Percy had, as he'd been the one to teach him all he needed to know about life on the streets, and how to survive it.

Percy made his way to the beach over on the east side of Manhattan. He travelled along it until he came across the Brooklyn Bridge, and made his way to his little make-shift shelter under it. He had to lean over to fit in it, but it was long enough so that he could lie down in it no problem. He'd just gotten a few long sticks and used them to prop up a sheet of tin roofing, leaning against one of the bridge's columns. He had two blankets inside, one to lie on top of the sand, and another to go on top of him when he slept. He'd recently gotten a hammer and a few nails, which he had used to stick a piece of cloth around it like a curtain.

A few other people had set up little shelters here too, and they were all older than Percy. The youngest was a twenty year old girl named Sophia, and Percy got along pretty well with her all things considered. The oldest was sixty year old man with a bushy grey beard, David, who always referred to Percy as 'whippersnapper'.

He got inside, and lifted up the blankets, and dug for a bit under it, buried not too deep in the sand, was a metal lock box. Inside was the total of his life savings: Seventy dollars. He added most of the money he got today, but Percy knew from experience that never lasted as long as he hoped it to. Despite that, he kept a ten and five in his pocket: he felt like having something for dinner tonight. He also had a backpack in here, which housed some crackers, one of those miniature cereal boxes, a few granola bars and a couple of bottles of water, but he kept those for a rainy day.

Percy reburied the lock box, and went to go outside, but he saw the start of a storm on the horizon, already it was raining steadily. His spirits dropped. He'd predicted this, but he hoped it would be coming this soon. He lay back down inside.

"Looks like an early rest today." He mumbled to himself.

He pulled the blanket over himself, leaving his jacket on. It was winter that was the worst time of year for people like him, so he always rugged up as much as possible.

Despite that he was living directly under bridge, the rain fell on an angle and a fair amount found itself under it. Yet, Perseus didn't mind; the rain was mostly held back by his makeshift curtains, and the sound of rain of the tin roof piece was oddly relaxing.

Despite the fact that it was only five in the afternoon, Percy found himself growing tired. Despite the cold weather, Percy was warm, and he fell into what was, for him, a relatively peaceful sleep.

Percy suddenly found himself awake. He knew by now not to sit up suddenly. He'd hit his head on the tin enough times to get that. Percy could already tell before he looked out the curtains that it was still dark outside. He didn't let that encourage him to stay in his shelter though. He wasn't one to waste time that could be used for useful things.

He still had his fifteen dollars in his pocket, and he hadn't had something to eat since the day before yesterday, and that was only because Percy wasn't above the occasional dumpster diving. He'd been doing it less and less lately, because businesses had the ridiculous need to prevent the homeless, desperate or those short of money from rummaging through the stuff they clearly didn't need or want.

Percy could help but get angry, but there really wasn't much he could about it besides complain to the managers and that never got him anywhere. Besides, not all shops were like that though, and there was actually one café not too far from his shelter, and the guy who ran the counter occasionally had some leftover food for him at the end of the day, which Percy would then take, and if there was enough for more than himself, he shared it with the people who sheltered under Brooklyn Bridge with him.

Anyway, Percy felt like indulging since that storm interrupted his plans last night. When he stopped by the café, his friend was running the counter. The place opened surprisingly early. Percy approached his friend, and Jack flashed a quick smile.

"Hey Percy, sorry but you know the rules, only at the end of the day."

Perseus smiled. "Ah, but I have money Jack, does that change anything."

Jack nodded. "Indeed, so then, what'll it be?"

Percy had his eye on a rather large apple and cinnamon muffin in the display case, which was exactly fifteen dollars.

Percy frowned. "That muffin is a little pricy don't you think?"

Jack shrugged. "I just work the counter. If I controlled the prices, it would be a different story, trust me."

Percy considered other options. But, the muffin giving off a warm freshly baked smell, was messing with his decision making. Eventually, his stomach rumbled, and decided for him.

"I… I'll take it then."

"To go? Or will you have a table?"

"Table, I think."

Percy handed over the money, and Jack plated up the muffin, but he hesitated. As Percy went to get a table, Jack stopped him.

"Percy, tell you what, I'll get you an iced coffee to go with that… I'll pay."

"I… that's… are you… sure?" Percy stammered.

Jack nodded. "Don't worry, it won't be a problem."

"Uh, that would… that would be great… thank you."

"Just find a table and I'll have it to you in a minute."

Percy sat down at an empty table by a window, and picked chunks from the muffin. It was probably one of the best breakfasts he'd ever had, and when Jack brought the iced coffee, Percy couldn't keep the grin off his face.

While he finished up his meal, the sun broke past the horizon, and the next day was starting up again. He was quite content for the time being.

He went up to Jack at the counter. "Hey listen Jack… that was, great. Thank you… I really mean that."

Jack smiled. "Not a problem. I wish I could help more… but I might get fired."

Percy nodded. "I understand. Anyway, I'll… I'll see you later."

"Take care Percy," and Jack turned to serve another customer.

Percy stepped out onto the streets, and wrapped his arms around himself. He really needed to get a coat. Perhaps today, he could take a risk, and 'borrow' one from a clothes store. For the time being, Percy walked the streets, heading to what he referred to as 'one of his fishing spots.' Despite the warm breakfast, Percy suddenly felt downtrodden, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

Percy stood by the side walk, but he wasn't his usual self today. His mind was wandering. Recent times haven't been so bad. At least, compared to his first few months on the street. But the recent two months have been the best. A semi-organized schedule, and a supply from the café where Jack worked, even it was unsteady at the best of times, had made for relatively peaceful times. So why was Percy so 'down'? It was like an empty void at the back of his mind, constantly reminding him that even though he was safer than ever, he couldn't be happy. Something was missing from him, and he couldn't quite figure out what.

But Percy was jarred from his thoughts. A pretty average white van had pulled on the sidewalk, just a few meters from where he was. But Percy had long ago learned that if anything was average looking, it was usually anything but. Take a thief for example, like himself (he wasn't afraid to admit to what he was, at least to himself anyway. He also occasionally took pride in his skills). They looked perfectly normal and blended into the crowd. At least until your wallet went missing, and they were nowhere to be seen.

Back to the van, one side had the logo of some kind of strawberry farm, Delphi Strawberries, it said. The van doors opened, and a rather unusual bunch hoped out of the car, and some of them looked like they were fit for a bout of Live Action Role-playing.

The most normal looking one was a scrawny kid with a goatee and an odd limp. The next was a punk girl with spiked black hair, and eyes that seemed much too blue to be normal. But Percy had to keep his jaw dropping at the nest set of occupants.

Not because the girls were pretty. No, it was because two of them each had a matching set of bows and quivers filled with arrows, strung across their back, and silvery knives strapped in at their belts, like they planned to go for a casual hunt in Central Park. The tanned, older looking hunter-girl had a ferocious look in her eye that made Percy think that their prey of choice were new-born bunnies, and small children.

Percy looked around, and was shocked. Not a single person even glanced at them. Like a fourteen year old getting out from behind the driver's seat of a van, and carrying around a full set of hunting gear was no big deal. He could picture people's conversations.

Hey, honey, those teenagers are carrying weapons!

Probably just animal control, dear.

When the unusual four gathered for a conversation, Percy could just about make out their conversation.

The punk girl had an exasperated look on her face, and spoke first. "I told you guys, cars kind of need fuel to run. We should have topped of before we left camp."

Older-Hunter-Girl sighed. "Indeed, I've had blunder," Her violent glare returned. "But this does not mean thou must be insufferable about it."

Either she's from medieval times, thought Percy, or she's actually role-playing.

Younger-Hunter-Girl spoke up. "So uh, what do we do now then?"

"We have no use for this vehicle. The streets are too crowed to use any fuelling station." Older-Hunter-Girl said. "Perhaps we will find a different form of transportation."

Ye-Olde-Hunter-Girl-seemed to be leading the group, as they all set off down the street, right pass him without even glancing his way. Percy went to follow. Still nobody took notice of their all too obvious weapons, and that was bothering Percy. He could've sworn when one of the bow limbs hit someone, it actually passed through them.

The punk girl had taken something from her pocket, and fiddled with it nervously. It looked like some kind of canister. Too small to be anything other than a personal defence spray, which meant that it would be something like Pepper Spray, or Mace.

Percy sparked an idea. He was lacking any kind of self-defence items, and he'd been in plenty of situations where a spray like that could be useful.

Suddenly, his downtrodden mood was gone, and he was feeling much better. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was after excitement, and this certainly qualified. He knew the hunter-girls could be dangerous, and the punk girl didn't look like a push over at any rate. The scrawny kid, he wasn't too sure about.

Despite the mean looking girls carrying the hunting gear, Percy felt like he could pull this off. He felt like he could mug them.

Yeah. This would be exciting, and today… he was feeling lucky.