*Author's Note* This chapter is dedicated to Kora, whose keen eyes caught the disappearence of our very own comatose Jack Kelly. *grins sheepishly* I must admit that the occurance of all the events striking the Higgins family like plague made us all, (yeah me too) forget slightly about our dear Cowboy. Kora, I'll try my best to get the story finished by Saturday. I can't promise you anything, but I will certainly try. Thanx for your great reviewing Kora!
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Racetrack walked into the hospital room filled with numerous sick people, and his nervous brown eyes sought out one familiar face. He couldn't find it. He walked up and down the aisles of beds before he finally found who he was looking for. Cowboy. He hadn't visited Jack since his last visit, a few days after the shooting. He pulled up a chair and sat down in it beside the bed. His brown eyes observed the body lying before him. It was Jack alright, but half of his head was swarthed in bandages and his shoulder was also bandaged. His face was pale, his black eyelashes standing out against the whiteness. His shallow breathing barely moved the thin sheets.
"Well Cowboy. I'm sorry dat I ain't been ta see ya lately. Tings have been rough. You undastand. But its woise dan woik troubles. It's gotten peisonal. Cowboy, I feel like I don't even know me own kid. Grabs. He's been so distant an' I don't know why. It, it bugs me Cowboy an' I cain't stand it! I mean, he's always eidda told me or his mudda tings, but now he won't tawk at all. I feel like I'm losin' him Jack." Racetrack poured out. "An' den, dere's Fairy. Afta you was shot, she an' Grabs wandered off an' she got frightened outta her wits by sometin'. She won't even say what. She barely speaks. An now, well, she's been kidnapped. What have I done ta bring dis upon my family Cowboy? What have I done? I'm losin' me family Cowboy. Do ya know what dats like?" Racetrack asked, his voiced strained with emotion as he stared at the blank face.
"Oh Cowboy if only you'd wake up. So many tings have happened. Dat stuff wit' Grabs an' Fairy, an' all da kids, all da udda's kids is actin' strange, an' somehow I tink dat Grabs is behind it. Well, Spot told me dat a group of 'em went and told him ta watch his back 'cause dere was a chance of anudda shootin'. Ya know what happened Cowboy? Archer, dat leada from Queens, got picked off dat aftanoon. An' Grabs knows sometin' about dat dat he ain't tellin'. Aw Jack, why am I doin' dis? I mean, you ain't awake. But maybe dere's some part of ya dat can hear me. Maybe. Please come back Cowboy. We all need ya. I gotta run. I promised Bright dat I'd be back before two an' it's twenty till now. Ya know how she is Cowboy. Well, hurry home soon." Racetrack said softly, as he stood from his chair and silently shuffled out of the room.
Inwardly, Jack thrashed at the sound of Racetrack's voice. He could hear him, but he couldn't get that through to Racetrack. He heard it all. Fairy's been kidnapped? Good Lawd. Archer's dead. What is happenin'? Oh Race, I wish I could tell ya dat it's gotta be Osca Delancy. I wish I could wake up and git outta here! Ya gotta help me Race! I cain't do dis alone. But I'll try. I'll try an' fight so I kin git outta here an' tell ya what's goin' on. If only. If only.
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Grabs awoke with a sour taste in his mouth and the aching in his side. He sat up and blinked in the dim light. He wasn't in the alley anymore, but in a small room. It was barely furnished, holding only a table and two chairs, one of which he was sitting in. The room was lit by a lantern sitting on the wooden table. He looked around and tried to stand up on wobbly legs. "Ya don't need ta stand. We'll be witcha in a minute." Grabs plopped down in his seat, not from obediance, but from fright as a voice echoed out of the corners of the room. "Who are ya?" Grabs croaked. A tall figure emerged from a dark corner of the room and sat down at the desk. "Me friends call me Mouse. Yer Grabs Higgins." The person replied. Grabs recognized the icy voice he had heard in the alley, but he couldn't believe who he saw. The boy was about seventeen it seemed to him. He was tall and thin. His brown stringy hair fell about his face and often into his green eyes which stood out from his pale face.
"Whaddya got wit' me?" Grabs asked uneasily. Mouse smiled. "It's really not me. I'm jest a representative of me boss. I'm standin' in his place speakin' da woids dat he'd say. We ain't stupid enough ta jest let him tawk ta ya." The boy said, still smiling. "Why's dat?" Grabs stuttered. " 'Cause you'd rememba him. I must say fer a little kid ya got brains." Mouse remarked, and to Grabs surprise, the words were filled with respect. "Well I jest obseive. Me fadda taught me dat much." Grabs stuttered. Mouse nodded but didn't speak. He just eyed him. "Ya know why yer here?" Mouse asked quietly. Grabs shook his head with a gulp and instead stared at the boy's intense green eyes.
"Yer here 'cause me boss tinks ya know more dan ya say. He's been followin' ya so ta speak. All of us have. We watched ya, an' how ya tried ta save dat Queens kid." Mouse said solemnly. Grabs bristled. "You guys were behind it? Dat was a big piece of doity woik ya did! Killin' off Archer dat way! An' shootin' me in da process!" He said angrily. Mouse stared at him, waiting for the end of the tirade. "It was fer yer own good. Yer in too deep now Grabs. Ya've trespassed on an important business matta. Well, me boss' business matta." Grabs stared at the boy, his eyes angry and filled with spite. "I did what I had ta! An' plus, all dis ain't gonna do much good, 'cause I know who yer boss is!" He said triumphantly.
Mouse's green eyes froze and his jaw went slightly slack. Grabs glared at him in triumph, but it was quickly silenced when Mouse grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to his face. "Whaddya know?" He said, his voice bristled and icy. "Jest dat his name is Osca an' he's got a ting against me fadda!" Grabs said, his bravado suddenly gone. Mouse released him then stared at Grabs for a long time. "Ya sure dats da extent of yer knowledge?" He asked dryly. Grabs nodded, feeling the red spot on his neck. "Well, it ain't my business what happens to ya. Dats me boss' business as I'm sure I've said before." He said, his iciness disappearing as quickly as it had come. He stood up and began to walk towards the door. "Dats it? What happens ta me? What happens to me sista?" Grabs called out, twisting in his seat to look at the boy. Mouse stopped and his green eyes penetrated Grabs' brown gaze in something Grabs might have recognized as pity. "You'll jest hafta wait kid. I ain't supposed ta act yet." Then he walked out the door and closed it quietly.
Grabs sat in his seat for a few moments more before he leapt out of his seat and opened the door quietly. He peeked around the corner both ways. The hall was empty. He dashed out into it, his quiet pitter-pattering echoing slightly off the walls. He looked at the broken windows and crumbled buildings in careful observation. "Must be an abandoned house or buildin' or sometin'. Where am I?" He muttered to himself. Voices stopped him and he pressed his body in a slight niche in the wall. They were coming from another room that was also dimmly lit. "Ya sure dats what da boss said ta do?" A resentful voice whined. "Look dats what I was told alright. Ya don't hafta stawt yer whinin' again." The familiar voice of Mouse echoed out. "Look, we got da kid! Why Osca jest let us git Racetrack an' his little gang of sissies down here an' slaughter 'em?" The angry voice continued.
"Because DICE, Osca said not ta. It ain't in da plan." Mouse said insistently. "An' I suppose dat Osca told YOU all 'bout it." Mouse was silent for a moment. "No he didn't. He jest said dat it ain't what we're gonna do." The angry voice, identified as Dice, snorted. "So we're jest gonna sit down here an' twiddle our thumbs waitin' fer Osca an' Morris ta give da woid?" Dice said. "Dats about da size of it." Mouse replied patiently. "Well I cain't do dat! Look Mouse, here we are, part of one of da most powerful undaground societies, jest waitin' ta show ourselves ta da whole woild, an' Osca wants ta waste dat moment by pickin' off dumb forma Newsboys? It's insane!" Dice was angry, more than angry, his pride was hurt, Grabs realized as he listened with bated breath. "I know Dice, but if dats da way Osca wants it, dats da way its gonna be." Mouse said quietly. "Well I cain't wait dat long Mouse. I'm gonna leave an' stawt new if dere ain't some action soon!" Dice yelled. "Cool it Dice! Jest cool it! If ya woulda let me finish before, I woulda told ya dat its almost time. We jest need a little more time." Mouse retorted.
Dice was finally silent, subdued by Mouse's patient remark. "So, we're gonna go through wit' da plan?" Dice asked finally. "Yeah. Jest as long as sometin' don't go wrong." Dice scoffed. "What else could go wrong?" Mouse laughed, but not a pleasant laugh. "Huh, jest a few minutes ago you was slammin' da plan. Makes me question yer loyalty." Mouse said quietly. "I ain't questionin' nothin' Mouse. It's jest," Dice was suddenly cut off by a blow of gunfire. Grabs gasped and pressed himself harder into the wall. "Sorry Dice. Had ta do it. Boss' ordas. I told ya not ta question his authority." Mouse said quietly. Grabs watched with wide eyes as the slight shadow of Mouse stood over the dead body and placed his gun back in his pocket. Mouse walked out into the hall and began to shuffle down it. Grabs breathed out slightly and nearly gasped aloud as Mouse halted midstep. He whirled around to face the dark corridor. He listened, then began to walk down it slowly, watching and listening. Grabs held his breath as Mouse came within a few feet of him. "Hey Mouse. C'mere. Ya do da deed?" A familiar voice came to Grabs' ears, accompanied by an inaudible sigh of relief.
Mouse stopped within a few feet of Grabs hiding place and turned back down the hall. "Yeah, I did it. Wish we didn't hafta." Mouse said regretfully. "I know, but he was a weak link in da chain. Had ta do it. Wouldn't have been good fer da team. Pity he couldn't wait. We're goin' through wit' da plan." Grabs heard Mouse's quick intake of breath. "Boss, what are we gonna do? I mean, ya haven't really told us anytin'. We've been followin' ya blind, an' sometimes, if ya don't mind my sayin's so, it ain't da best way ta go." Mouse said quietly. "I know. Ya need ta git da boy. Bring him ta my place." Oscar said. "Boss, do we really need ta mix children in wit' dis? I mean, dat little goil ain't done anytin' ta us." Mouse's voice was pleading, which was another surprise to Grabs, who thought of the boy now as a cold blooded killing machine.
"Mouse, dey saw us. Chances are dey know our plans. Dat boy saw us afta we shot Cowboy, an' he saw us kill Archer. He cain't stay alive an' ya know dat. What betta way ta git Racetrack an' his gang down here dan ta send him his first born's bloody body?" Oscar's voice was cold as steel as he spoke about the idea of murder matter-of-factly. "Boss, I don't kill kids." Mouse said quietly. "No you don't. But I do. Yer jest da delivery boy. Dis is da way ta git Race, Bright, an' probably even Spot down here. We kin kill two boids wit' one stone. Now, git da kid. It won't do no good for him not ta see me, since his pitiful life is gonna end soon." Oscar said maliciously.
"Boss, dis is a big intrusion, but why do ya hate 'em so much." Mouse asked after walking a few steps away. "Because dey was joiks ta me. Dey teased not only me, but me brudda an' da way we woiked. I might not be able ta count, but at least I kin make livin' an keep me kid safe. Dat's more dan I kin say fer Race an' Bright. Look at 'em. Dey're gonna lose a kid, dey're foist born, an' possibly dey're daughta. Dey're awful parents. Plus I've got some scores ta settle wit' big mout' Race an' his equally big mout' wife Bright Eyes." He said, speaking the names with a tone of flint. "So dis is not only da comin' out of our organization, but yer revenge." Mouse said, a tone of understanding coming to his voice. "Yeah, now git da kid. Now." Oscar walked down the hall and Grabs listened as his footsteps disappeared in the distance.
Grabs gulped air and pressed himself up against the wall again as Mouse walked down the hall. He walked slowly, increasing Grabs' chance of being found greatly. But he passed by Grabs and didn't even notice his presence. He walked down to the room where he thought Grabs was and entered it. "Awright kid. C'mon out. C'mon kid dis ain't funny. Osca wants ta see ya." Grabs breathed in and out quickly and took off down the hall, his footfalls sounding loudly in the halls. "Kid! Stop! Git ova here! Don't make me shoot you!" Mouse yelled, sliding out into the hall and drawing his pistol. Grabs didn't turn around but kept running as if his life depended on it. A bullet whizzed past his shoulder and narrowly missed him. Another cut a flap in his shirt as it blew past him. Grabs saw a door and he ran towards it, but stumbled and fell, at the feet of a man. He looked up and squinted in the darkness at the face. As realization overcame him, Mouse slid up to the two, his face pale. "Welcome ta da place Higgins. Hope you'll be happy here, for da time bein'." Oscar said cooly.