The buildings flew past me.
Taxi cabs in the distance sounded like nothing over the roar of my pounding heartbeat. My feet slapped the sidewalk. I pumped my legs harder, faster. A voice shouted out from behind me. In a split second, I disappeared onto a different street. But I wasn't free. Someone else darted in from another street. I had less than a second to get out. It wasn't going to happen so I got ready to put up a fight. But then an opportunity for freedom presented itself.
I squeezed through a metaphorical crack in the wall. Somewhere that only I would be able to get in. It spit me out to another street. New York was a maze. A cold, asphalt filled maze, and there was always a place to hide. Well, if you looked hard enough. Before I picked up the pace again, I stopped in the shadows. My lungs burned. They were filled with fire. And the god awful pollution that the Bronx never ran out of.
No one concerning was around. In fact, no one was around. The city was sleeping for a split second. Perfect. I bolted out of my hiding spot. A taxi came down the street and stopped as I ran past. it came to a rapid stop, and someone stepped out of the door, their eyes trained on me. I had to move faster. that was the only way out, to be free. another alleyway was to my right, so I took a detour.
I wanted to stop.
But my heart told me not to. Our entrance to the pit was right there. My legs took over. I ran just a little harder, the people on my tail ready to catch me by my hair. I ducked under the broken fence, and the world slowed down.
"Dammit Cammie, every time!" Macey panted, walking up to me. I had won the game of tag. It was more like glorified hide and seek. Or run fast and don't get caught.
"The cab was a great idea. How'd you do it?" I already knew because I was the one who had taught them the trick. But it wasn't practical most of the time unless you had a tail.
"You sure as hell already know." she rolled her eyes, the infamous Macey McHenry look. "Did you ever see Bex?" no one ever saw Bex if she didn't want to be seen. But I had caught a glimpse of her on my tail down First Street.
"Of course not. And you have to pick up the pace, or boss is gonna kick your ass. What if that was a raid?"
"God I know. I fucking know. And I need to sneak away faster, shoot straighter, and be quiet. Some of us weren't bred for this Cam." I took off my leather jacket.
"Hey, you're not talking to Bex. And it was a game of tag."
"Guess you're right." she sighed and disappeared into the shadows. I stood at the entrance, waiting for Bexs arrival. I guess she would take long enough to give you an explanation.
My father is a respected man in the Mafia business. He's one of the biggest leaders in the American branch. And I'm following in his footsteps at 16. Trust me, it's not dangerous. If you're on the right side.
At age 8, I remember the first mysterious man that stood in our living room, having a quiet conversation with my parents.
At age 10, I found the first gun in my father's dresser. Three months later, I was taught how to shoot it. I've only gotten better since.
When I found the gun, questions started coming to my mind. They didn't stop.
So at age 11, my father walked me down the crumbling sidewalks of the Bronx, New York. He led me into the alleyway that I now sit in. He took me through a door, revealing punching bags, old mats, weights, and terrifying men. From every day on, I ran to that musty old alleyway to learn the ways of the trade. How to aim a gun, snatch that bracelet on the counter, and pickpocket that poor unsuspecting guy standing on the corner.
It had become my way of life. I lived and breathed the gang. I was on track to take over my father's spot when the time came. Everyone respected me, but there was just a level of mutual respect for whoever you were. You didn't get in for no reason. Most people think I got my spot for free just because of my legacy. But that shit is the farthest from the truth. I've earned my spot as everyone else has.
Nothing that I was lined up for had changed. But then one night, my entire life was shattered.
At age 11 and a half, I watched my mother get murdered in cold blood. We tried to hold him off, but I was still frail and uneducated. So I did what I know best and hid. My father fought hard, but he wasn't good enough. No, he wasn't fast enough.
Neither of us have been able to track down who did it. Others think it was a rival gang, trying to send a message. So while we focused on that, we dove into training. After school, that was the only thing that consumed my thoughts. Now its all paid off.
But at age 13, I learned how to kill a man and make sure no one would bat an eye. They also help you live with that weight on your shoulders. That part still terrifies me. I realize how much power I truly do have at my fingertips. People here did it all the time. Their hearts were iced over. You learn to suppress the emotion, and eventually, it will disappear. I am still too much of a human to this day. I know the day will arrive soon, and that's what scares me the most.
Bex had come to us off the streets. She just had the look of someone who could make it on her own. And she was also 12 years old. We immediately bonded, and no one handles a mission better than us. I've taught her almost everything she knows. She is the best pickpocket, and has the best fighting skills. If she doesn't want to be seen, she won't, unlike me. I blend in perfectly, I can become just an average person on the streets, which is a power of its own. She was a natural in her own way. She was one of the best theifs I had ever seen. And sometimes I was worried that she was coming for my spot. But she has never been the leader that I am.
Macey, on the other hand, was a different case. Her parents had moved here a year ago from France. They were loaded with money, and one day it all disappeared. I met her in class one day, she told me about the tragic stories of her designer bags getting snatched from her own hands. I didn't like her at first but knew it could turn into a project. Find the guys who stole the money.
But then her mom hit the bottle hard and her dad just left. They had all lost hope. So Macey turned to us. She had barely made it in.
She was average with everything, which in some cases were good. But the leaders, including my father, wanted people to excel in things. That's why we worked in groups because someone would always be the best for one task. I didn't want her to leave or not make it through initiation. There weren't too many girls here, so I took what I could get.
Every day, I ran drills with her, trying to see if something stood out. Speaking of standing out, that's exactly what Macey did. No one would look past her, they would stop and stare because she wasn't some average girl. She was built like a supermodel, and her black glossy hair was iconic.
She had some hope for running and fighting. She just needed to get better. I had to prove there was still hope for her. Because if someone goes on a single mission, they don't leave without becoming a member. They would have already seen too much. And I couldn't let her get killed.
"I saw you dash across the street. You're getting sloppy." Bex appeared from the shadows, being Bexxish.
"No, we've just taken that route too many times. Both of us know what to expect, where we go. I'm getting bored. Anyways, she seems to be getting better."
"We'll see tomorrow."
"Want to go shoot some stuff?" I pulled a gun out from the back of my pants and we ran to the building. I guess regular girls got manicures together. But all of us were far from normal.
This may become a new story! I've had this idea for a while and finally did something. If you are reading my other story, when would I learn, and are waiting for the spy edition, that will be out soon. The motivation for this came first. and don't worry, the chapters won't be this short.
Tell me what you think. Let me know if I should continue. It'll probably take at least another chapter to get anything going, so give me a chance :)