WOW!!! Got a lot more reviews, this past chapter! I guess using a bribe works? ;D Although for some reason this chappie was really hard to write. Maybe it was the pressure? Nah.
Well, it was close, but not quite. Very, very close! So! If any chapter should happen to get 10 or more reviews, I will do my best to release two chapters in one day the following week. Of course, placement exams are coming up, so we'll see how it goes.
typical past disclaimer here
Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, I know everyone was really excited for this scene!
Ch 11 – Strike! (the bullies)
Everyone was buzzing as we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Never had the Bridge seemed so big to me as at that moment. It was like the barrier not only between us and Manhattan, but between being on strike and not being on strike. Was Spot going to cross the barrier? Buzz, buzz, buzz. All these thoughts went swirling around with everyone else's worries. I hate bees.
I had bugged Spot to tell me what was going on, only to be ignored and finally commanded to go walk with everyone else. Colt and Quicksilver had already sprinted over to Manhattan's distribution center to find out more. Hard to believe it was barely into the time when we normally eat lunch.
"Why do we have to rescue Manhattan?" Sparks grumbled next to me. Fiercely loyal as she was, everyone was confused.
"Because it's 'Hattan," Emotions said. During the day, she dressed like the rest of us in boy's clothes. "Spot's good friends wit' Jack. Besides, do you really think dat they could make it out of the crips on their own?"
We all winced. While I had personally never had the pleasure of meeting "the Crips" – although I've met the Bulls more than once – I'd heard the horror stories. Common and not-so-common thugs, hired by whoever paid them to rough up others. Chains, batons, brass knuckles, rocks, whatever they could grab became a weapon. If you couldn't fight or run, then your knees were about to get broken, and possibly your neck. Yeah, I didn't think Manhattan would make it out safely. They were a good sort, but more along the lines of wise-guys than fighters.
Reaching the end of the Bridge, you could feel the tension rising in everyone. I also noticed the feeling of being in Brooklyn had disappeared. Manhattan was a much calmer borough. Why had I started here again?
The distribution center was empty, void of even Weasel. We all hovered around Spot, who stood in front of the gates, observing. I never really noticed, but the distribution center really is a dead end.
"Alright," Spot said after another minute. All our ears perked up. "I want all da shooters up on the roofs. Everyone else is to hide. No one is to interfere wit' Manhattan's strike until da crips show up. Goils, yoah gonna stay back until the worst is cleared up." Spot kept his voice low, but we all heard him.
Sparks and Cat grumbled a little about not getting in on so much of the action, but nonetheless went to find hiding places. Pilot led some of the shooters over the gate as the rest went to find ways up the other buildings.
"Hey, Spot," I said, tugging his shirt as he turned to hop the gate with the other shooters. He gave me a very serious look. "Can't I go up on the roof, too?"
"Can you shoot?" he asked calmly, although I could tell he was itching to get over the gate and hiden.
"No."
"Den you're stayin' with the rest of 'em."
"But then I don't get to do anything."
"I protect my goils, Artemis," Spot said, his voice cool. "I'm not lettin' the crips get anyone. Now get hidden." With that, he turned and scaled the gate, dropping down and quickly getting out of sight. Silently, I fumed to myself.
"Artemis, hey!" Pirate called as I neared the alley where they were hidden. I ducked in with them. Blade and Colt were there, along with Cat, Sparks, and another boy I didn't know so well. I think his name had something to do with knick-knacks?
"Tried to get in wit' da boys?" Blade asked, grinning.
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Yes. So what?"
"Spot never lets his goils get to the front," Cat said, braiding her hair back. "Simple rule."
The rest of them were also preparing for a fight. Blade was spinning two knives around, one in each hand. Colt was loosening up his legs, stretching to one side and then the other. The boy – Gizmo? No. – was fiddling with something in his hands. Pirate watched as I wandered around the alley.
"What are you doin'?"
"Looking for a way up to the roof."
"Didn't Spot already tell you not to?"
"He told me I couldn't go with the shooters," I reasoned. "He never said not to go up on the roof. Besides, I'll have a better view, and I'll be out of the way. Now either help me find a ladder or give me a boost to the top of this crate." I pointed to the top of a five foot high crate stacked against the wall. Pirate sighed.
"You know, dis is Brooklyn, but you like fightin' a little bit much."
"It's not the fighting I like," I argued as Pirate made a stirrup with hands. "It's the action. The adrenaline, if you will. I'm not some fight junkie. Hup!" With one easy lift, I was on top of the crate. Shimmying around, I stood up carefully to grab the window ledge above me. With some very careful shimmying about, I managed to finally get myself on top of the flat roof. Mental note: next time, use gloves.
"Thanks, Pirate!" I called down.
Pirate grinned and gave me a mock salute. "Just don't fall, alright?" I waved and scrambled my way over to the opposite ledge. I couldn't see where the shooters or anyone else had gone. The shooters were probably even higher up. Where was Spot? He would probably make a dramatic entrance, the show off.
Weasel walked to the front of the window with his book. Where were the Manhattaners? Oh, there they were. You could hear them now, making a bunch of noise. They formed a human wall in front of the gate, only to scatter as the carriage of papes came thundering out. Poor horse.
The scabbers hesitated at the gates. I smirked. Sure, Manhattan wasn't the scariest or toughest borough, but when they were mad, look out!
"Alright. Everyone, remain calm," the walking-mouth said, looking at Jack as if for backup. None of them were wearing their normal selling clothes. Mostly just plain shirts and pants.
Jack looked back at the new kid. "Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!" he yelled. The Manhattaners yelled, running for the scabbers, who ran for the back. They pounded on the wooden doors, which opened to reveal the newsies' worst nightmare.
The Crips. Mean, nasty, cigar smoking, and armed with chains and batons.
Racetrack was yelling something, looking terrified. Ah, Race. You really should look where you're running beforehand. Oh, and get out of the way of the crips, you smart-mouth newsie!
Pandemonium ensued when I saw someone moving on the roofs around me. Several some ones, actually.
Brooklyn newsies stood on the roofs surrounding the distribution center. I spotted many slingshots out and ready. Then Spot made his move.
"Never fear, Brooklyn is heah," Spot proclaimed, jumping down onto a platform. Pilot hopped – much less dramatically – to his right, as another newsie appeared on Spot's left. The shooters aimed and shot as shouts of "Brooklyn!" went up from below. Gotta tell you, it's amazing, the way being part of this feels. Well, time for action. Spot had grabbed a hook that carried him down, landing on two of thugs. Heh, show off.
I don't remember exactly how I did it, but I got myself down to the ground, knives out and at the ready. One of the thugs saw me land. He came at me with a chain. Too bad for him, he didn't see my knives, and I know how to throw. One landed in the big muscle of his shoulder. The crip went down, blood starting to appear. No time to lose. I grabbed the blade out, wiped it on his shirt and went on to the next foe.
The adrenaline in a fight makes you notice a lot of things you wouldn't otherwise. I noticed Kid Blink made up for his blind side by fighting in a ring with others. Racetrack kicked a guy in his soft spot. Brooklynites pouring in from the gates. All the noise that would make you go deaf. And Jackal beating the life out of a crip about to attack a kid. Funny, the things you see, isn't it?
Someone got me on the side of the head, knocking my hat off. I stumbled, fell, and rolled. I turned to hit the jerk only to see that someone was already there, knocking them back with his cane. Spot knocked him to the ground and turned around.
"You alright?" he practically had to yell. He thrust a hand out to me and helped me up. I stumbled forward a bit, still off balance from the blow. Which meant I landed right up against Spot's chest, my other hand on his arm. His hand that held his cane was placed briefly between my shoulder blades. "Watch yourself," he said, his voice right next to my ear, before disappearing.
Three words that became hard to say: I and… Why was a song running through my head?
I watched him go before turning back to the fight. No time to think about what happened, just dodge, land blows, receive a few, and keep moving.
At last the crips were pushed back. The newsies were all rejoicing, creating new kind of pandemonium.
"Hey, Artemis, you okay?" Pirate popped up. "You've got yoahself a pretty good ding there." Carefully he pushed my bangs back. Pirate's eyes are a very deep brown, in case you were wondering. And his blond hair has a way of flopping in his face. Just, you know, as a little f.y.i.
"I'm fine. There any blood?"
"A little. Shouldn't scar, though."
"Oh, good," I said weakly. "I've always worried about appearances."
Pirate snorted. "C'mon, I'm takin' you over heah." He scooped me up easily, despite my protests.
"Pirate! Someone will see!" I hissed.
"Who's ta care?" he asked, putting me down on a crate. "Now hold still." I winced as he wiped the blood away. The cut wasn't so bad, just a small one above my eyebrow. Cat showed up and she grinned at me.
"Got hoit again, Arty?" she asked.
I stuck my tongue out at her. "That's a horrible nick name of my nick name, and you know it!" She just grinned.
"Yeah, well, get used to it. We're spending the night here in 'Hattan," Cat said, looking around. "You know your way around here?" I nodded. "Good." She took off, no doubt to find Colt.
"So where's the food?" I asked, once Cat was out of earshot and Pirate was done cleaning off the blood. Pirate looked at me.
"I thought you just said you know yoah way around?"
I shrugged. "Maybe?" Pirate rolled his eyes.
"Yoah comin' with me," he said. I jumped up, ready for the food. Food! It's very important to eat after a fight. "How long did youse live here again?"
"A week, give or take a few days. What's the name of the restaurant again?"
"Tibby's. It's like Rays, only a little nicer. Smaller, but a little nicer." We kept up the random chatter until we got to the restaurant. Inside, Colt and Cat had of course already arrived and snagged a table. I slid in next to Cat, who was taking her braid out. Then the thought occurred to me.
"Wait," I said, slapping my hands down on the table. They all stared at me. "I'm now going to have to buy myself lunch, not just once today, but twice?!" Blank stares.
"We're not here to eat, Arty," Colt said. "We're here ta find out what Spot wants us ta do for tonight."
"Oh, good," I said meekly, blushing. Pirate snickered. "Shush, Pi-pi."
When Spot and Jack entered, all the newsies cheered. It was so loud and deafening that Sparrow and I covered our ears. Holy scha-moly but newsies are loud! Then everyone settled down as the two leaders sat down together. They were seated with Racetrack, the mouth - now known as David, but hey - and Pilot. All us of Brooklynites perked our ears while we faithfully awaited our fate.
I think Spot looked at me once, but then again I'm not sure. Plus, I'm not sure I could handle it if he did. I mean….eurm….well….
There was an adult who sat next to David. He had the polished, clean, edumacated look of a businessman. Mush said he was a reporter named Denton. Ahhhhh, lovely. Wait what? Okay?
"Brooklyn, you can take any of da open bunks," Jack called out. "Spot's got his usual bunk, so you can fight ovah da rest of 'em."
Mush laughed. "If you can find 'em!" A couple others laughed. Well, I'll be out in the alley again, thank you.
We all dispersed, mostly to hang out where the Manhattaners seemed to be spending time. It was back in front of the statue of Horace Greenly. That old guy on a chair. Race was beating a bunch of kids a poker, and trying to get some of the Brooklynites to play. I'm going to guess they're used to playing with Race, because I've played with some of them and they do not like to lose.
"Hey, Arty! C'mere!" Racetrack yelled as we neared. He waved me over to where they were sitting.
"You serious Race? I can barely play!" I laughed. I could see the money signs gleaming in his eyes. Race grinned around his customary cigar.
"Aw, c'mon, I've never played against you!" I rolled my eyes and sat.
"Fine, but you better not be betting big." Racetrack shrugged. A win was a win.
Pirate joined, as did Kid Blink and Badger. I scooted a smidge closer to Pirate. Badger's a good guy, he's just really huge and slightly intimidating.
We played a few rounds, not really betting since I was rusty at the game. Race won most of the games, with Pirate winning one. Then we started playing for bets. It was small bets, only a penny for two rounds. Still, Racetrack kept winning.
"Alrigh' guys, final round," Race said. He has one heck of a poker face. He dealt out the five cards again. "Dis one's gonna be three cents for dis round. You in?" He looked around the circle. Mush had also joined and started fishing out the money. Badger chucked in his bits while Pirate stared at his cards for a minute. Then he shrugged and put in three cents.
"Artemis?" Racetrack asked, looking at me. "You in?"
I shrugged. "Sure," I said, putting in my bits. I hadn't even looked at my cards yet. We all looked at our cards, Mush putting one back and taking a new one. His poker face wasn't so great. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that by the small frown on his face, Mush's hand wasn't so good.
My cards confused me. I knew the names for hands. Flush, straight, Royal flush, doubles…now to try and remember exactly what they were, and which one won the most. Hmm. I put a card back and picked up a new one. Ooookay. The card gods must be playing with me. That, or the deck was stacked.
We had a bit of a crowd now as everyone had finished their food, and there wasn't much to do. Most of them stood behind Mush, looking at his hand and betting amongst themselves who would win. Race had strategically stationed himself with his back to the statue. Emotions sat down just behind me and Pirate. Someone stood behind me, but I didn't bother to check who. Actually, there were several someones. Grar.
Looking at my hand, I discarded another two cards, just to test my luck. Come on, come on…I pulled just the two cards I had honestly never thought to pull.
"Anyone backing' out?" Race asked. We all shook our heads. "Alrigh', put yoah hands down. Pirate, we're startin' with you." Pirate rolled his eyes and put down his hand: a pair of threes, a pair of Jacks, and an Ace. Not too bad.
"Badger?" He put down a three, four, five, and a pair of sevens. Race just nodded and went on.
"Mush?" Mush sighed and put down his hand: a pair of fours, a two, a Queen, and a ten.
"Alrigh' den. Artemis?" Racetrack looked at me. I frowned at my cards.
"Why don't you put yours down first?" I asked. Race smirked.
"Here dey are," he said, putting down a three and four of clubs, a five of hearts, a six of diamond, and a seven of spades. "Now what's yoah hand?" He grinned, confident he had won.
"I don't know how good it is," I said, shrugging. Then I put down my hand: ten, Jack, Queen, King, and an Ace, all of hearts. I heard some whistles as Race frowned at my hand.
"That bad?" I asked.
"Artemis, you just won," Badger laughed. He slapped me on the back, which nearly knocked me over. I grinned.
"Oh really?" I said, being evil.
"Dat's some luck," Pirate said. "All of hearts. Maybe you've got good luck with love?" He grinned mischievously at me. I shook my head.
"Not likely, my nickname's Artemis for a reason," I said. Pirate shrugged and stood up. I gathered up the bits and tucked them away. I'd return everyone their money later. With the strike going for who knows how long, everyone was going to need everything.
"Someone wanna give me a hand up?" I said, laughing. "My legs are asleep." Pirate was stretching out, himself.
"Here, give me yoah hand," said the person behind me. I think I levitated.
"Um, sure, Spot," I said, turning around. Spot had been standing there with Jack, watching. For the second time that day, I put my hand in Spot's. This time I noticed that it was cool.
"Merf." I stood up and shook my legs out. Jack was grinning.
"Nice last hand dere," he said. "Been a while since I've seen Race beat like dat." Spot stood smirking at Race, while I stood there and tried to pretend to be invisible. Which was slightly hard, because it's hard to ignore Jack or Spot already, and after today…Luckily Jack got distracted by someone else and left.
"How's yoah head?" Spot asked.
"Fine." I did my best to look him in the face. I settled for looking sometimes at his eyes and otherwise at his nose. It's a sarcastic nose. "Pirate cleaned the cut. I'll be good."
Spot nodded. "Make sure you keep it clean." I nodded.
"Sure, Spot."
"Youse know where you'll be later?" he asked unexpectedly.
"A-yup," I could say with confidence. "The small alley next to the lodge house."
"Is dat safe?" Spot asked a little sarcastically. I laughed.
"Spot, I've got knives. And if anyone thinks they can get me…well," I let it end there, grinning mischievously. Spot just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Blade called him over and he left.
"You look a little winded," Pirate said behind me. I squeaked. The bad thing about talking to Spot is, I tend to forget what's going on around me sometimes. "Forget to breathe?"
"No, I did not forget to breathe," I snapped, indignant. Really, forget to breathe just because I was talking to Spot!
"Good. I was getting' worried there." I stuck my tongue out at him.
"You don't have to worry about me," I said. "Besides, people worry too much."
"An' you don't worry enough," Pirate stated. "Or have you forgotten about Jackal? And what was that, passin' out in da water?" He crossed his arms and looked at me. I sighed and walked over to the statue, leaning against the base. We sat, Pirate still waiting for an answer.
Finally I said, "I do worry about Jackal, and other things," I started. "As for the water…let's just say I've got heart problems and leave it at that."
I showed Emotions some simple hand holds and grips to use against an attacker. Then Blade wanted to compare knives and throwing styles. Of course, we couldn't actually throw the blades anywhere. Sparks and I traded notes on jerks in Brooklyn and the best places to get food. Sparrow and Lark sang together, with Sparrow playing someone's guitar. Next to each other, they really do look like twins. Only Sparrow's got freckles and Lark keeps her hair shorter. The afternoon passed quickly, and soon enough we were dispersing to find dinner. Lark showed us a few places to get food while others went to the Lodging House to eat. Bleh. Someone needs to show the newsies how to cook.
Later, as everyone else was heading inside or finding somewhere outside to sleep, I crept into the little alley. There were still boxes and crates pilled up, which made for an acceptable bed. I leaned back and shut my eyes. Two seconds later someone knocked on the wall right above me. I squeaked and opened my eyes. Lark was looking at me.
"Y'know, dere's an empty bunk downstairs," she said. "Some of the girls have set up cots in the kitchen, too."
"Oh." She stared at me.
"I'm sayin' you don't need to sleep out here," she drawled. "Now get inside."
"Yes ma'am," I grinned, ducking around her and speeding for Manhattan's kitchen. No way was I sleeping in the same room as the boys. I don't care how comfortable the Manhattan girls are with it, I'm staying out, thanks.
Cat was reclining on a cot already, and Sparrow was asleep on another in the tiny kitchen. There were two more left. I quickly grabbed one and plopped down on it. The cots were mostly just extra mattresses, a lumpy pillow, and a thin blanket, but they worked.
I was out in seconds.
So, didja like it? I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. ;P Oh, and anyone else want me to read and review their fic(s)?
And now, for thanks!
Eavis: Thanks for the long review! I know I already replied to it, but I thought I'd do so again. Artemis is working on making Spot fall for her...maybe. I'm not so sure what she's doing myself.
Switchblade: I know I ended at a bad spot. It was intentional. ;) Hope you liked this chapter!
elleestJenn: Yup, the kitchen scene was good, I think. Maybe something like that will show up again?
RandomRiter: Did you like the scene? Artemis was trying to watch everyone do everything. XD
LucyofNarnia: Thanks for reading! I always love getting new readers!
Austra: Awww, thanks love! I do my best to write quality fanfiction. I'm so glad you think it's good! Maybe I should start a community for quality SpotxOC fics? And thanks for the +alert and favorite! :D