Ch. 7

            The sun raised its fiery fist and hammered on the cluster of newsboys below.  Streams of sweat bathed the faces focused on their new, hopefully temporarily, slightly unwilling, leader.  Wiping the salted water from his forehead with his hat, Race glanced at the legions of eyes focused on him.  "What?"

            "You're the one in charge," a voice from the crowd explained. 

            Gazing at the picket line, Race shrugged.

            "What d'ya want from me?  It's the same game.  Stay here, don't let anybody through."

            Offering a flickering smile at his friend, Kid Blink moved from his place in the ranks to hold a hushed conversation with Race.  "They wanna know about the rally, it being tomorrow and everything."

            Blink's words resounded on the hollow walls of Race's stomach.  "I don't know.  I now Spot's gettin up there."

            "Are you gonna talk?"
            Drawing a deep breath, Race exhaled, sending with the discharged air his mind to a place farther away, like Sheepshead, where worries and responsibilities died under the beating hooves of the horses.  After a long silence, he said, "I dunno.  If I have ta.  I've gotta…" he looked back up to Blink with steady contact, "I've gotta make sure it goes well.  For Jack."

            "That's another thing," Blink dropped his gaze, glimpsing to the army of inquiring visages.  "Everyone wants…do you know where they are?"

            Closing his eyes and opening them solemnly after a moment, Race shook his head.  "No.  Spot thinks, I think too, that Pulitzer caught 'em and threw 'em in the Refuge or somethin.  They wouldn't just disappear like this."

            Gravity glinted in Blink's eye.  "Dave's family?"

            Race felt his shoulders sag.  His entire body shivered under the massive weight bearing down on him from the trusting eyes.  "They can mange, for awhile, wit' the mother and sister workin."  They went ta the bulls, but just got told that they don't got time ta search for ev'ry kid in this city that goes missin."

            Blink's head lowered, his weary voice floating to Race's ears.  "Whadda we gonna do?"

            Lathering his voice with the prideful, stubborn determination that kept his body humming, Race answered.  "We fight.  We hold the rally.  We don't let Jack and Dave down.  We can't let Pulitzer win."

T.H. –dude, if I inspire you to watch the movie again, rock on.  Popping my DVD into the player is what started this, and I've had the most fun I've had in awhile.  Thank you for all your support.  It's completely awesome, b/c you're like one of my heroes.  Hehe I'm hoping to fit some guy bonding fluff into this, but I dunno if it'll go with the tone of the story.

Rae Kelly—muahaha.  I can do it to you, I can do it to Jack, and Dave and everyone else.  What can I say, Jel's making me morbid, and this is the result.  Hmm.  I think I'll work some more Pulitzer in here before the end, just for you.

Chronicles Baily—I know you can't review, but having you read and reply in the way that you can has just been awesome.  I'm like drooling at your feet as you write right now, just waiting for more of your awesome angst.  You should meet Jel, I think the two of you would really get along…hehe.