Ragged Army

Summary: Reports of young children going missing has swept through New York City. No clues, no leads to where they are being taken and if they're still alive. Only one girl seems to be attuned to the voices of the missing children…the problem? Everyone thinks she's insane…

Chapter 10

*Asylum dozed after the nightmares, never letting herself fall asleep completely. The memory had shaken her to her foundations and the nightmare hadn't helped at all. She could still smell the burning of the little boy's skin and could hear his screams echoed in her mind. It made her nauseous to think about it but she couldn't get it out of her head.

Finally, the sky began to lighten and she got up groggily and dressed in slow motion. She would have to do laundry in the next couple of days. Slipping on her boots, she made her way quietly to the lobby and sat at her usual place on the counter to wait for her boys. Some mornings she didn't mind waking them, but she did not want to run into Spot Conlon so she left the job up to Kloppman.

Listening, she heard as the old man woke them and as they began to file into the washroom. She could hear Mush, always the morning person, as he chattered away to the other boys who only grunted or replied with one word syllables. Glancing down, she noticed a hole in her shirt. She poked a finger through it and gave a sigh. She'd have to sew as well as laundry which she loathed to do.

Soft footfalls on the stairs caused her to look up and meet the cool blue eyes of the one person she didn't want to see at that moment.

"Mornin', Mi-Asylum." He said, catching himself before he used her real name. He scowled lightly at her as she avoided his gaze.

"Good morning, Spot." She said softly, keeping her eyes on the front door.

It was silent for a second until he cleared his throat, "Ise gonna head back ta Brooklyn. Was dere somethin' ya needed ta say?"

The girl that she thought was broken after he left seemed to be pushing her to tell him everything. He was, of course, the only person who would understand. Maybe he wouldn't judge her. Maybe he'd see that she had lived through hell and had just barely made it out. But, no, he wouldn't understand giving up. He was such a strong person, he wouldn't see that she had taken all she could and had finally broken. They were two completely different people and whoever he had fallen in love with, if he had, was long gone.

She shook her head, continuing to avoid his gaze. He turned to go just as she looked up and she caught a look of frustration in his eyes. Of course he would be frustrated. He just found his oldest friend and she wasn't the person he remembered. She'd let him down.

Well, life was full of disappointments, wasn't it? She thought angrily at his back as he left. Continuing to glare at the door, she swung her legs as the boys started down the stairs. Racetrack was usually one of the firsts down to meet her.

"Heya, 'Sy!" Mush said as he came down, smiling at her sweetly, "Race is up in da bunkroom waitin' foah ya."

The brunette furrowed her brows, "Alright."

"I'm going to sell with Snipeshooter, alright 'Sy?" Fang asked as he went skipping by her.

She narrowed her eyes, "Sell with an older boy. I don't want you by yourself while those guys are still out there."

"I'll take 'im." Mush offered, pulling the small boys hat down low over his face.

Fang laughed and skipped ahead giving her a quick wave of good bye. She quirked an eyebrow, but shrugged and went up the stairs to the boys bunkroom which was now empty. "Race?" She called out, and then noticed he was sitting by the windows.

"Hey, 'Sy." He said, rubbing his eyes, "Look, Ise sorry. But…I went up ta tawk ta ya last night and I kinda…hoid da t'ings between Spot and ya." The sudden admission floored her for a moment until she felt her anger begin to boil.

Folding her arms across her chest, she stared the Italian boy down, "It's come to eavesdropping, Race?"

He stood up, "I didn't mean ta! I hoid da windah close and den he said somethin' about ya not telling him and I…I couldn't help but listen…" He trailed off, running a hand through his dark hair, "Look, ya haven't exactly been an open book, 'Sy. Ise was curious and I couldn't help it."

"Yes, you could have. You could have turned around and walked away. What's between Spot and I is in the past and certainly none of your business." She told him sharply.

"I know believe me, 'Sy, I know. And Ise sorry. I coulda kept it ta myself, but I felt guilty and if ya needed someone ta tawk ta, I'm here foah ya." His big, brown eyes pleaded with her blue ones and she felt herself sigh in defeat. She never could stay mad very long.

"It's fine. You could have asked, though." She told him grudgingly.

He gave a tentative smile, "So we good?" When she nodded, unable to hold grudges long, he threw an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the bunkroom, "Awright! Ready ta get sellin', den?"

So they headed out, the day passing quickly and without incident; at least as far as they knew. They had lunch at Tibby's as usual and there was no mention of the previous night or of Spot Conlon. For that, Asylum was thankful because she honestly did not know what to do about it, if there was anything she could do.

As she munched on a roll, she looked over to Race, "Race, do you think I'm weak?"

Race swallowed his mashed potatoes and looked at her thoughtfully, "Nah, 'Sy, ya not weak. Ya wouldn't have survived when ya got ta da lodgin' house if youse was weak."

Asylum mulled that over as she slowly finished the roll and stared out the window. It was still raining. It was going on near two and a half weeks. The sewers were starting to back up, and it wasn't a pleasant aroma.

Finishing their lunch, they headed back towards the Lodging House. "What about da evenin' edition?" Race asked, slipping a cigar between his lips.

Asylum groaned, "I slept poorly last night, the Spot business and the rain are all bringing me down. I can't really afford to skip it, but at the same time I just wanna curl up on my bed and be warm and dry."

Race nodded, throwing an arm around her shoulders, "Take a break, 'Sy. Ya been workin' like a dog since ya came ta da lodgin' house."

She laughed, "Thanks, Race. I think I will just lay down for a bit."

They walked the rest of the way in silence and she stayed true to her word and went up the stairs to the attic, stripped off her wet clothes before putting on dry ones and crawled into her bed, praying for a little dreamless sleep.

Of course, someone up there wasn't listening to her and she found herself hovering over the same cell, the same little boy who was branded just last night, now fully clothed, back cowering in the corner.

This time, instead of staying in one place she attempted to leave and found she could wander around as much as she liked. Just the merest thought about which direction she wanted she'd immediately turn. So, she wandered. In almost no time at all she knew the exact lay out of the building. There were about forty-five boys, some in clumps and some in single cells. Asylum couldn't quite understand the reasoning for some of them, but then Blake was probably the craziest man she'd ever had the unluckiness to meet.

There were even one or two girls, no older than nine, in different parts of the building. She glanced in on them, but couldn't bring herself to stare too long. These children were likely never to be the same.

She wondered briefly if she was just dreaming this, or if this was real. Were these the missing children?

Suddenly, to her left, a door opened and a man came in dragging a boy. He pulled the kicking boy roughly across the ground, "Blake!" He shouted dumping the kid to the side as Blake came through another door.

"Hello, Joe. What have you brought me?" He glanced at the boy, measuring him, "A little older than I like, but I'll make do. It'll be quite a challenge. Fifty dollars."

"Ya tol' me seventy-five!" Joe growled.

Blake crossed his arms, "Yes, but I expected someone younger. I'm giving less because he will be more difficult."

Joe growled, "Sixty. It woulda been more if dat goil hadn't attacked me. I had t'ree small boys dat woulda been poifect."

Blake feigned interest, "Yes, but you didn't bring them did you? Fifty-five is my final offer. How did a girl manage to get one over on you, Joe?"

"Fifty-seven or I'll dump him in da rivah. She was a maniac, she was. Tiny little thing, but strong as a bull. Nearly beat the life outta poor Frank. Not ta mention the kick she threw at Paul. Nevah seen a goil go that fast." Asylum realized Joe was the guy that had gotten away just the other day.

The dark-eyed man said flatly, "Let's make a deal." He moved over to the boy lying on the ground and turned him over, "I'll give you sixty if you describe this girl to me."

Fear washed over Asylum as she realized what was going to happen.

"Real small, maybe five foot. Brunette hair, blue eyes." Joe told the man.

Blake stared at the boy, "Flecks of yellow around the iris?"

"I wasn't exactly staring deeply inta her eyes, but shoah dey coulda. Ya gonna give me my money now?" Joe ran a hand through his hair impatiently.

Blake ignored him and stared at the boy, "What do they call you, street rat?"

The boy went to spit at him, but he grabbed the boy's cheeks and raised a cool eyebrow.

"Snipeshootah."

Asylum felt a cold, icy fear wash over her as she blinked her eyes open. Recalling the dream, she jumped up and ran down the stairs, "JACK!"

Her piercing shriek caused the noise in the lobby to stop. "Asylum?" Jack asked looking up from the table where they played poker. "Whatsa mattah wit ya?"

"Where's Snipeshooter? Has anyone seen him?"

Fang looked up from playing toss penny with the boys, "Not since dis moinin' when ya told me ta sell with Mush."

"Snipeshootah!" Race called up the stairs in case the boy had come in and they had missed him, "Snipeshootah come down 'ere!"

Silence.

The boys went into a panic. Asylum had never seen them so frantic as they rounded up all the younger boys and sent a few of the older ones out to check some of the spots such as the statue of Horace Greely they liked to hang out around all to no avail.

It seemed as if one of their own was missing.*

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Tell me how much in a review!

Truly,

Joker is Poker with a J~