When I finally climb out of the duct and onto the roof, I stop to catch my breath. My stomach aches because of the lack of food in the past week. Though the feeling has grown somewhat normal, it still tires me out whenever I do anything strenuous.

However, I barely notice it when I breathe in the cool fresh night air. The wind feels so soothing against my skin. So playful and wild. So free. I am free.

Then I remember the real reason I risked our necks to actually leave the cellar. Without wasting anymore time, I leap onto the next roof. Luckily, the buildings that surround the complex are relatively close to each other and are easy to jump across. Unfortunately, I don't see the landing very clearly and I almost slip on the gravel covering the roof. Brushing myself off, I move on to the next one. Several roofs down, I spot a complex up ahead built up around a group of restaurants and I climb slowly down the ladder into the alley beside an old building with the paint worn away at the creases. The thing about New York City is that people throw away whole pizzas and any other kind of food that they don't care for.

One of the trash cans is already open, the lid having fallen off because it is overflowing with two huge white trash bags. The first bag I open contains nothing much, but a pile of what smells like moldy old meatloaf that reeks of rotten eggs and spoiled meat. It is so bad I drop the bag and kick it to the side of the trash can. Opening the other one, there are a few half eaten pizza slices. Whether or not the people who ate off them had some kind f disease or not, we need whatever I can find. Hopefully I can salvage at least a handful of something edible for Jo and Kat. They need it more than I do.

The trash bag full of old meatloaf falls over bumps into a bin of glass bottles. Without warning, two sewer rats are flushed out from behind the trash cans and stop a few feet away to glance at me watching them; their dark black eyes filled with mockery as they carry away two large pieces of fresh pizza crust. 'At least someone children won't starve tonight.'

We are no better than them. Hustling through the scum-filled rotten underbelly of the city to survive. Three misfits that wouldn't last one day in the hustle and bustle of New York. Three pizza crusts and two apples fairly a few days old with a few bites missing end up in my little knapsack.

"Well well well," says a low male voice to my right. My grip tightens on the bag in my hand and I whirl around to see a man standing in the mouth of the alleyway as he waves an empty beer bottle in my direction. "Look at what I've found boys?" Three more emerge from around the corner and join him.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming. I've seen and experienced enough of city gangs to know that this is a horrible situation to be in. I try not to look afraid, but it doesn't stop my heart starts beating twenty times more quickly. The alley I'm in is a dead-end and my pleasure has just been tripled!

"What's a pretty lil' thing like you doin' out here all on ya own?" Asks one of the other men, his words cold and slurring together; just like Allen after he has blown a good fortune on booze at the bar. "Lookin' for ya lunch?" If I was not so starving hungry and have such weak muscles, I would kick all of them up their dong. Sadly, it isn't the case now.

"You punks are wasting your time. I swear I don't have anything, not even a phone."

All of them start laughing, the first one advancing forward, too close for my comfort, "We're not gonna fall fur that ol' trick girly. Ya lying." chuckles the man on the left.

I slowly edge toward the ladder, hoping that they don't notice. "I promise it won't hurt, if you cooperate." A shimmer of silver light catches my eye and a long double-edged blade appears in the punk's hand. A horrible feeling boils to life in the pit of my stomach and I make a break for the ladder!

Ignoring the stinging pain in my arms and stomach, I grab one of the bars, but only make it up three rungs before hands grab hold of my legs and the bag wrenched from my hand! My fingers slip off the wet metal and I fall back onto the concrete. My head throbs as it hits the concrete full force, right where I had bumped it earlier. My vision is blurred in the noise of drunk men laughing and yelling as the one with the knife stands over me, all four of my limbs glued to the ground.

"Let me go, you stupid thugs! Let me go!"

"Quit yer cringing!" I let out a shriek and he presses harder, a stab shooting through me like electricity! The sound of tearing fabric and the cackle of drunk men fills my ears as I scream louder, but is cut off as something is stuffed into my mouth. My cries break against the cloth and tears that I would not let fall pool from my eyes as the metal enters my skin and moves farther down!

"Step away from the girl." Another voice raises over the pandemonium. Definitely male, but a young male. The men stop laughing and the knife pauses. A tall dark figure emerges from the shadows. A giant...turtle-like creature, brandishing two shimmering blades.

A gasp escapes the one holding me, his grip loosening a little. "What...what the heck are you?" I notice a hint of fear in his quivering voice, even under the influence of the alcohol.

"I won't ask you again. Let her go and I won't hurt." The voice is definitely male, but a young male.

One of them charges at him, but the turtle knocks him to the ground with a swift kick. The sickening sound of bone shattering against stone reverberates in my ears as the guy smashes full force into the wall!

"Jack!" The man pinning me down lets go of my hands and scrambles onto his feet, abandoning me and following the others around the corner and out of sight.

The turtle sheaths his swords and hurries over to me. I gasp for air as he removes the cloth from my mouth. "Are you alright ma'am?"

I'm at a loss for words and can only stare up at my savior. This strange being who just risked his own skin to save me, and most definitely my siblings.

He looks down at me with his glistening sapphire blue eyes. "Don't be afraid," he says calmly, "I know I look kind of different and strange, but I promise I won't hurt you."

He leans down beside me, my eyes following his every move. "Lie still. I'll help you." He slips a hand under my back and one under my knees, lifting me up bridal style. When I my posture shifts, a soft whimper escapes my mouth as the fire in my stomach flares through my tired limbs, the bottom part of my shirt starting to turn bright red.

"Shhhhhhh. I'm sorry." He looks me in the eyes, his face written with concern. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you." He's so strong, more built than any other person I'm ever seen. His hands are four times larger than mine, with only three fingers. But they are so gentle as he cradles me in his arms and hugs me to his smooth hard chest. Solid as a rock.

He carries me to the ladder, but I then remember my stash bag and spot it lying on the ground a few yards away where I was jumped. I tap his shoulder and he looks at me again.

"What is it?"

He follows my gaze as look back at my knapsack on the ground.

"Is that yours?"

I nod. He kneels down and then hands it to me.

I can't stand it any longer. No longer afraid, I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, hiding my face in his chest. I feel his body tenses in surprise, but in turn wraps his arms tighter around my small form, gingerly rocking me side to side. The comfort and security of his arms is overwhelming. Happy tears stream down my cheeks.

"Thank you."