Writer note: It's almost over! One more part!!! Yay! Thank you to everyone who has read this the whole way through :)
Part 6
The chaos in the bunkroom ceased to exist when Spot appeared in the doorway. He'd been given the news from one of his newsboys that something bad went down at the lodging house. He walked in long strides to the two newsboys he'd posted as guards for Kathryn. The sight revealed everything. Baxter wrapping Trapper's broken arm before tending to the gash on his cheek. Rip was lying on someone's bunk, another newsboy helping him down a bottle of whiskey to forget about the stab wound to his side.
Spot looked at Trapper. "What happen?"
Trapper blew a long heave, keeping his gaze to the floor. "These men ambushed us - one of 'em had to be Scottish" he started in a lowly voice. "We didn't have time to think. After they wopped us over, they took Kathryn." He finally gained the nerve to face Spot. "I'm sorry, Spot. We couldn't do anything."
The pause left Trapper nervously awaiting for his leader's response - whether it be anger or understanding…you could never tell. Spot took a long glance at Rip then back at Trapper. He met Trapper's eyes, nodding once, and walked away.
All too sudden though, Doodle ran in like a banshee out of hell. "SPOT! Come quick! The girl is on the street!" Spot was gone in an instant down the stairs and out to the street. Some of his newsboy were crowded around a figure lying on the ground. He pushed them aside to find Kathryn there, face down. He turned her over to find blood on her face and her ripped clothing.
"We were coming in when this carriage rode by and she was flung from it" someone said, but Spot only heard distant murmurs.
He scooped her up; her limp body heavy in his arms. His newsboys peeling away from him as he carried her into the lodging house.
***
Spot waited impatiently outside Baxter's room for word. Baxter had been in there for about fifteen minutes examining Kathryn. Spot snapped his head up, hearing the door open - Baxter stepping out wearing a somber face. That told the tale.
"She'd dead, isn't she?"
Baxter nodded. "From what I can tell, she was dead before they even brought her here."
Spot lowered his head then walked in the room, bending down at the bedside. Kathryn lay, still and cold. The blood that dried under her nose had been wiped away by Baxter. The older man stepped back in as well, and sat on his chair next to the bed.
"She'd been beaten badly," he gestured to her lower body, "and it looks as though someone had forced their self on her. What's horrible is, she was most likely alive during all that. From the marks around her neck, she was choked to death." Baxter sighed. "Such a waste of life. I know she meant something to you."
Spot drew his eyes up from the body to meet his landlord's. "I was only trying to help her. She needed a lesson and I tried teaching her. She almost had it too."
"Do you know who did this to her?" Baxter asked.
Spot nodded, a dangerous spark shining from his eyes. "I know" he replied then stalked out the room - fist clenched.
Baxter sighed again, and shook his head in dismay. "Poor child." He pulled the extra gray sheet from his small closet, covering Kathryn's whole. "Never had a chance to live."
Part 6
The chaos in the bunkroom ceased to exist when Spot appeared in the doorway. He'd been given the news from one of his newsboys that something bad went down at the lodging house. He walked in long strides to the two newsboys he'd posted as guards for Kathryn. The sight revealed everything. Baxter wrapping Trapper's broken arm before tending to the gash on his cheek. Rip was lying on someone's bunk, another newsboy helping him down a bottle of whiskey to forget about the stab wound to his side.
Spot looked at Trapper. "What happen?"
Trapper blew a long heave, keeping his gaze to the floor. "These men ambushed us - one of 'em had to be Scottish" he started in a lowly voice. "We didn't have time to think. After they wopped us over, they took Kathryn." He finally gained the nerve to face Spot. "I'm sorry, Spot. We couldn't do anything."
The pause left Trapper nervously awaiting for his leader's response - whether it be anger or understanding…you could never tell. Spot took a long glance at Rip then back at Trapper. He met Trapper's eyes, nodding once, and walked away.
All too sudden though, Doodle ran in like a banshee out of hell. "SPOT! Come quick! The girl is on the street!" Spot was gone in an instant down the stairs and out to the street. Some of his newsboy were crowded around a figure lying on the ground. He pushed them aside to find Kathryn there, face down. He turned her over to find blood on her face and her ripped clothing.
"We were coming in when this carriage rode by and she was flung from it" someone said, but Spot only heard distant murmurs.
He scooped her up; her limp body heavy in his arms. His newsboys peeling away from him as he carried her into the lodging house.
***
Spot waited impatiently outside Baxter's room for word. Baxter had been in there for about fifteen minutes examining Kathryn. Spot snapped his head up, hearing the door open - Baxter stepping out wearing a somber face. That told the tale.
"She'd dead, isn't she?"
Baxter nodded. "From what I can tell, she was dead before they even brought her here."
Spot lowered his head then walked in the room, bending down at the bedside. Kathryn lay, still and cold. The blood that dried under her nose had been wiped away by Baxter. The older man stepped back in as well, and sat on his chair next to the bed.
"She'd been beaten badly," he gestured to her lower body, "and it looks as though someone had forced their self on her. What's horrible is, she was most likely alive during all that. From the marks around her neck, she was choked to death." Baxter sighed. "Such a waste of life. I know she meant something to you."
Spot drew his eyes up from the body to meet his landlord's. "I was only trying to help her. She needed a lesson and I tried teaching her. She almost had it too."
"Do you know who did this to her?" Baxter asked.
Spot nodded, a dangerous spark shining from his eyes. "I know" he replied then stalked out the room - fist clenched.
Baxter sighed again, and shook his head in dismay. "Poor child." He pulled the extra gray sheet from his small closet, covering Kathryn's whole. "Never had a chance to live."