Free Companies Inc. Presents:
Brooklyn: One Rainy Day
By Keza: Queen of Procrastination
AN: Oh gawd, I did it again! More than a month since my last update. Gahh! But now it's Christmas break, so I'm going to try and… and… finish it! The whole story! Oh boy! Ok, enough with the crap, can we get onto the writing?
Chapter Seven: Ore.
+
'Like a big wet dog,' Ore mused as he watched Wood enter the restaurant and shake his head madly, trying to get the water out of it. Ore stood and dropped his paper.
"Hey Wood. Where ya been?"
"Manhattan," he answered simply, glancing around at the place's occupants. Ore smirked.
"Yeah? How's me pal Davey?"
"He's missin' ya sorely," Wood replied with a slight smile.
"Good." A pause. "Ready?" Ore rubbed at his temple, a sort of a nervous gesture.
"Of course… and if you're waiting for the rain to stop, then I've got bad news for ya…"
Ore shook his head and moved around Wood, then opened the door and turned back.
"Hell with the rain."
He walked out before he could catch Wood's expression or reply.
Wood caught up with his friend quickly.
"A lot of the Manhattaners didn't know about Jeremiah," he remarked as they wove through the maze of streets. Ore stayed silent for a moment, thinking about the Bronx's old leader.
"Know how he died?"
"Nope."
"Train. Jumping onto one, missed it. Bam - cut in half. Someone pushed him, or something. Or, maybe… maybe he just lost his balance."
Wood scoffed. "Lost his balance? I doubt that. He must have been pushed - probably by Lion."
Ore shrugged. "It's just a theory. It does happen."
"So now you're sticking up for Lion?"
"What? No! I'm just saying that it might not have been Lion's fault."
Silence.
"Never mind, ok?"
"Yeah, ok. So where are we headed?" Thanks to the dark and the rain, Wood was thoroughly lost.
"St. John's orphanage. It's like the refuge, but with nuns," he added bitterly.
"Not very nice nuns, eh?" Wood smirked to himself.
"Naw. Not very nice anything," Ore agreed, then fell silent. Though not used to his friend being so quiet for so long, Wood took the hint and said no more.
Ore had been to the orphanage a large number of times to visit his kid brother, and he had had a good amount of chance to break him out too - but he could never do it. No matter how much he wanted to rescue his brother, the streets were too dangerous for a boy of just eight. Never mind the fact that Ore had been only a year older when he lived out on the streets, telling stories and begging for what little money he could. The first few years, Samus was in a foster home, and everything was just fine. The foster parents even let Ore visit him, no questions asked. Then he had been moved to St. John's, and everything had changed. Ore had been seen a fair number of times by the advisors, and almost caught a few times as well. This wouldn't be too bad, except for the fact that the advisors knew he was homeless. They would take any chance they could get to snatch him up and stick him in the very place he wanted to stay away from. He had Brooklyn's lodging house. But they would never understand.
Not only this, but the last time Ore had snuck in, Samus had admitted to being picked and beat on by some of the older boys. Because of his color and timid nature, he was the perfect scapegoat. Ore fumed about this, but could do nothing. Going to visit him now, with the risks involved, made Ore uneasy - and the rain did nothing to brighten his mood.
"Uh, Ore? This it?" Wood spoke up, awkwardly tapping him on the shoulder. Ore broke out of his reflective trance and glanced at the said building.
"Yeah. Thanks." They paused a moment to survey the forbidding brick building, and wrought iron fence. The latter was clearly more for decoration than to keep anyone out - or in.
"So, do you know where he is in this maze?" Wood asked as they climbed swiftly over the fence.
"Ah, one of the boy's rooms up there," Ore said, motioning vaguely. "We'll use the back door," he added. Wood stayed doubtfully silent. "Trust me. They should be eating dinner about now. We can enter in the back and sneak up to the room. Then they have twenty free minutes after dinner, which is when the kids will return to the room - Samus included. Don't worry, the other boys won't snitch. Anyway, outside the window is a tree. That's where we escape from."
"Right…. Ore?"
"Yeah?"
"If I mess this up for you, please don't kill me."
Pause.
"Sorry, I can't promise that."
Wood followed the boy around the back, troubled by the fact that his voice had been deadly serious.
"This has been strangely easy."
"Shh!"
"Sorry!" Wood hissed. They were crouched behind a bunk, waiting for the occupants of the room to come up once their dinner was over.
"I see what you mean," Ore said quietly after a moment. "But it's to be expected. This isn't like the refuge, they don't have guards or anything."
Wood grunted in agreement. The sound of many pairs of feet tromping up the stairs could be heard. A few moments later, the door opened to admit a variety of boys, all between the ages of seven and eleven. Wood and Ore stayed still. Samus came in last, and made his way to the back of the room dismally. Ore glanced at Wood, and they moved off behind him. Hearing footsteps, Samus turned quickly, then his face broke into a mile-wide grin. Ore wore one to match it. Samus ran to tackle his brother, then broke away for a moment.
"You haven't come for awhile," he said in a scolding voice. Ore's near-black eyes flashed mischievously.
"Well, I don't see you coming down to the Lodging House for a visit!" he countered. "How're things?"
"Ok," Samus shrugged neutrally. He glanced at Wood and the grinned returned. "Are you gonna break me out this time?" Ore looked away from the hope shining in his brother's wide eyes and shook his head.
"Why would we break you outta here? You have food, a bed to sleep in - every night. You have friends, you're learning math, and reading, and-"
"Speaking of friends," Wood spoke in a low voice. "Is that kid that just ran outta the door your friend?" he looked nervous. Samus ran around them and peered out the door.
"Justin. Shit!" he squeaked.
"Samus," Ore said. "Watch your mou-"
"Justin's gonna snitch on you!" Samus interrupted. A few of the other boys rolled their eyes, or shook their heads. Nobody liked a snitch. Wood looked around the small space frantically, while Ore just sighed.
"Guess we have to leave a bit earlier than expected," he grumbled to Wood, then swept Samus up into a huge bear hug. "Gonna be alright, kiddo?" Samus squirmed until he was let down.
"Yeah. 'Course."
Angry heels clacked up the stairs.
"Ore!" Wood said in a panicked voice from across the room. "The window's jammed!"
+
"Samus!"
Samus stood tall and looked straight ahead.
"Yes Ma'm."
"Justin tells me he saw two older boys, not from this orphanage, inside this very room. He says you were talking to them."
Samus stared stubbornly forward. No eye contact.
"I didn't see them, Ma'm." The advisor searched the room quickly. In a matter of seconds she had Justin by the ear.
"Another of your lies, Mr. Foley?" she spat. Justin trembled.
"I saw 'em! One was Samus's brother!"
"I don't have a brother, Ma'm," Samus said blandly. None of the other boys spoke up in defense or protest. The advisor was about to storm out, dragging Justin along with her, when something caught her eye. A shard of glass.
"Boys. How long has that window been broken?"
+
"What's going to happen with Samus and the window?" Wood asked breathlessly as they jogged down a main street. It was getting darker and darker, and both wanted to be back as soon as possible.
"He's a smart kid," Ore replied. "He'll think of something! Here, shortcut!" The duo turned into an alley, then froze.
"Hear that?" Wood whispered. Faint talking omitted from the way. Ore nodded. He recognized a voice. Someone approached, running, from behind, and they quickly stepped out of sight and into the shadows.
"Is that Ruin?" Ore murmured the question as quietly as he could. What was Ruin doing out late?
Ruin froze as well, staring fixedly at something in the distance. Wood took a few steps out to see for himself - at the far end of the alley, he spotted three silhouettes in the light of a street lamp. The rain cloaked most sound, but not Ruin's worried whisper.
"Spin…"
Wood tried anxiously to see what else was happening. More muffled noise was heard, and he recognized another figure - was that…?
Sling. Surrounded.
Wood backed up quickly. "Ore."
"Hmm?"
"Go find Mercy."
"Why? Wh-"
"Just do it! I dunno, try the Lodging House or something… but you gotta find him, and bring him back here." Ore nodded doubtfully, then ran off in the opposite direction. If there was a fight, there was no way he was getting involved.
"The same goes for you," a voice said, louder and clearer than the rest. Wood saw Ruin look up, and copied his movement. Someone on the roof? He stepped forward and tapped Ruin lightly on the shoulder. Before he could get a sound out, he found himself in quite a bad position. Knife poised at his throat, and Ruin's sneer staring him in the face.
"Dammit, Ruin! It's just Wood," he snapped. Ruin paused, then took down the knife and stepped back.
"Don't do that," he said quietly. No questions asked. No 'what are you doing here?' or 'where have you been?' That was just Ruin's way.
"What are we going to do about this?" Wood asked, motioning to the alley. "I just sent Ore to find Mercy," he added. Neither had entered yet, and the talking was beginning to get louder. The silhouettes had disappeared. Ruin noticed.
"Damn. I gotta get Spin," he told Wood, looking him in the eye.
"Sling is out there!" Wood protested, a little too loudly. The talking ceased. Wood gulped. The figure on the roof took advantage of the situation, and a painful yelp from below was heard.
"Slingshot," Ruin said. "See, you won't be the only one. You have Sling, and that's probably Spot up there. Now, I have to find Spin!"
"Fine!" Wood spat.
"I'll come back," Ruin assured him over his shoulder as he jogged off. Wood sighed, then stepped into the alley, praying he wouldn't get hit by a stray stone.
+
Ore ran smack into a familiar figure near the bridge. Familiar, but he couldn't place a name to the face… it was a Manhattan newsie, he knew.
The figure picked himself up, then gave Ore a hand up as well.
"Alright, Ore?"
"Fine. Damn, you were running fast. I didn't even notice - ohh…." The name finally came to him. "Swifty?"
"Yeah," Swifty confirmed, looking eager to be on his way. But Ore wasn't about to let him go just like that.
"Where are you headed? What's happening?"
"Manhattan," Swifty replied impatiently, nodding to the bridge. "Spot sent me to get some of the newsies there to come and help. Apparently you guys are under attack," he said.
"Under atta- what?" Swifty shrugged.
"We were just playing poker, and some scrawny kid comes in and tells Spot that the Bronx is attacking. Pie-eater, Snoddy, Skittery, Mush - they're all with Spot now."
"Scrawny kid…. Mouse?"
"I guess."
"Who are you going to get?"
"Jack, Blink, some others…." He trailed off, giving Ore a pointed look.
"Sorry to keep you! Thanks!" Ore watched as Swifty picked up his sprint and went off down to the bridge. Then he resumed his own journey to the lodging house.
+
"Mercy!"
Mercy paused at the sound of his name and glanced over his shoulder. Ore caught up to him and leaned against the lodging house wall, breathing heavily. Mercy grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face him.
"What? What?" he asked worriedly.
"Bronx… Spot… alley… fight… Manhattan… helping… Wood-"
"Wood and Spot are fighting the Bronx in an alley while we wait for Manhattan to come help?" Mercy guessed quickly. Ore nodded weakly. Ever ready for some action, Mercy's immediate question - "can you take me there? No? Directions then?" Ore nodded again and worked on regaining his breath for a few more seconds.
"Side street off of Lower Bridge… the one across from Eddie's?"
"I know it," Mercy interrupted, then disappeared inside. Ore followed and collapsed onto the nearest bunk. Mercy emerged a minute or two later sporting a new addition to his wardrobe.
"Nice scarf," Ore remarked. "Don't think it's gonna keep ya warm though."
"Ha," Mercy smirked on his way out. "If anyone else comes in, tell 'em where to go."
"Right," Ore agreed, already scheming up an excuse for Mr. Montgomery. The head of the lodging house would probably be curious about all the missing boys.
+
Wood had one chance to use his 'element of surprise.' He grabbed a stray board leaning against the wall and used that chance to take out the nearest boy - a smack in the back of the head and he dropped like a fly. He used the remaining few seconds he had to scan the boy's face. Doesn't look like anyone from the Bronx, he mused. Lion probably brought in new people, another part of his brain reminded.
Alerted by the hard to miss 'thwacking' sound of the board, some of the other boys took notice of the Brooklynder. One shouted something, and two others advanced towards him.
Stones continued to rain down, but not as heavily. One of the attackers had found his way onto the rooftop, and it wasn't long before someone "lost their balance." Wood heard a sickening crunch, followed by a groan of pain, and he shuddered involuntarily. What are these people doing? He noticed a knife held out in one of the boy's hands, and prayed that Mercy would arrive swiftly… because at the moment the only weapons he could brag about were his fists. Oh yeah, and that board….
Thwack! Wood slammed the board down on knife-boy's hand, and the blade clattered harmlessly to the ground. The other boy used this to his advantage and barreled into Wood from his left, knocking him to the ground breathless. Wood gasped for air and half crawled to the brick wall behind him. His board lay a few feet to the right. Knife-boy kicked it away and reclaimed his knife, cursing as he held it awkwardly in his left hand. Wood stood up with his back against the wall and held out his fists threateningly. The boy who had tackled him leapt forward again, but halted suddenly in mid-air and then went crashing to the ground. Wood had a moment to catch a glimpse of a tall boy, one hand on the boy's collar and the other messing up his face, before he was dodging away from the blade-carrying minion.
Wood ducked a wild swing, failing to see that the badly-thrown punch was just a distraction. The slash on his right arm would be a harsh reminder for awhile. His left hand immediately came up to clutch at the cut below his shoulder, his eyes glared dangerously at the leering boy, who had backed off for a time. Blood seeped slowly through his fingers.
His savior from before had finally succeeded in knocking the other out cold, and moved over to join him.
"Pie-eater," he said between breaths, eyeing the knife-boy. "Manhattan."
"Thanks for your help," Wood muttered back. Knife-boy yelped as his legs gave out from underneath him. Another Manhattan newsie appeared.
"Back of the knees," he reported gleefully, holding up Wood's lost board. "Turn's their legs to water. A great effect."
"Hey Mush," Wood nodded, glad to recognize someone. "What's happening over there?" he glanced towards the far end of the alley.
"More people coming in, we're lost if no one else shows," he explained, moving away. Wood and Pie-eater followed closely.
"No one else is here?" Wood asked, glancing around at the shadows. The rain continued to pound relentlessly down. What a night for a confrontation.
"We sent Swifty to get some Manhattan boys - they'll show. Spot sent that skinny kid…."
"Mouse?"
"Right, to round up Brooklyn people. And apparently Mouse sent someone to get Harlem. It's pretty bad," he finished.
As if to prove his point, a larger group entered from behind the trio. All three turned.
"Shit," Pie-eater whined. "I gotta girl waiting in Manhattan, you know…."
"Yeah, well, this isn't the time to brag Pie!" Mush growled.
"What?! That's not what I m-" he was silenced with a blow to the jaw. Mush managed to trip the one responsible, and Wood moved in to deliver a hard kick in the face. Something cracked.
"Like a fucking assembly line," Pie-eater groaned from the ground. Relieved he wasn't out, Wood lifted the taller boy up from under his arms, giving him enough height to nail the next boy in the forehead. "Damn heavy boots come in handy sometimes," he informed Wood as he was allowed back onto the ground.
"The sooner Sling gets on a roof, the better," Wood wheezed, searching the building tops for signs of the small marksman. His arm was throbbing horribly and still bleeding. Mush hopped painfully over.
"Yeah, well I think your Sling just broke my toe!" he said, holding up a good sized marble in one hand, his foot in the other.
"Don't complain to me about it!" Wood raised a hand to alert him of an approaching fist, but the threat was cut short as the boy brought back the hand to press to his head, where blood was trickling sluggishly. He spewed profanity like a hose. Mush spun around and noticed this.
"Complain? Me? I have no idea what you're talking about."
A moment or two later a gold tipped cane pushed the injured boy down, and Spot Conlon appeared to greet them cheerily.
"Glad you could make it. Wood. Remind me to beat Lion's arse into the ground. Very soon."
"Only if I can help you. Where is everyone?"
"Hell if I'd know! Mouse said he'd round them all up."
Grumble, grumble. "Mouse. No wonder."
"I trust him," Spot said simply. As if it answered everything… which it did, really.
"But where's Ruin? Wait, never mind - is that Jack?" Spot dealt out one last whack and then moved away, screaming 'BROOKLYN!' like it was a war cry.
"Yeah, dat's my trademark move righ' dere," a familiar mocking voice said. Wood didn't have to look to know that it was Racetrack, most likely maiming some poor guy's ability to reproduce. "Not you again," he said, spotting Wood. "But jeez, you look 'orrible!"
"Thanks, Race," Wood said, noting that the other didn't look to good either. Race couldn't have been there for more than a few minutes, but was already sporting a split lip, bad looking mark on his chin, a developing black eye and an endless array of bruises.
"Dirty bastards have knives!" he growled, jabbing a finger to his chin.
"Tell me about it," Wood answered, nodding to his arm. A second later he was on the ground, head spinning and lights dancing before his eyes.
"Whoops, guess I shoulda told ya about dat guy behind ya instead," Race jeered, hitting the said boy in the knee with some blunt object. He collapsed on top of Wood with a yell. Wood stabbed an elbow upwards, then managed to roll out from under the figure.
"Hit 'em in the knees," he said, trying to regain the focus in his eyes. "Perfect height for you, eh?"
+
End Notes: Sorry it ends so abruptly, but it was starting to get long (and it's starting to get late - 11:20) and I have to leave the rest of the confrontation for the end. -_^
Yeah, these end chapters (except for maybe the next one) are going to be fairly long. There's going to be more fighting coming up, and the conclusion of the day is drawing near. I hope I'm not horrible at writing this fighting stuff. Ark. Only ten chapters to this story, so don't fret, I'll finish writing it soon. In theory. Review!