AN: Alright, moving on to chapter 3. Thanks to all my reviewers…a small but devoted group so far…and keep reading!
Skittery
"Lucky Seven not to compete in next race!" I shouted out, making my way among the crowds at the racetrack. Race was off making a bet, and I didn't feel like I had time to sit around and wait on him, so I continued selling. Luckily, there was a good story about a favorite horse that was dropping out, so selling at the tracks seemed to be a blessing in disguise.
A man suddenly grabbed my elbow, and I spun to face him. "Would you like a paper, sir?" I asked, trying my best to look pitiful.
"No. I want you."
Another man seemed to appear out of nowhere and grabbed my other arm, and I was about to scream and struggle until I felt the muzzle of a gun press into my side. I automatically realized- these had to be the same goons that attacked Mush yesterday!
They led me through the crowd, and even though I could see Race talking to a fellow gambler just twenty feet away, there wasn't any way I could alert him to my predicament without running the risk of getting shot. And before I knew it, I was being led onto a deserted dock with an old boat station shack on the end. They shoved me inside, closing the flimsy door as they followed me in.
"So, they call you Skittery, huh?"
I didn't answer. I wasn't about to answer any of their questions.
"Let's see just how 'skittery' you are when we're done with you."
A well aimed punch landed right in my stomach, and I dropped to the ground, gasping for air like a fish out of water. This was followed by a swift kick to the jaw that sent me flying back into a stack of wooden crates.
I groaned but stood back up, and then I put up my fists. If they weren't gonna tie me up, I wasn't going down without a fight.
"Oh, so you want to fight back? Tony, take care of that."
A gunshot shattered the air, and a blinding pain in my leg sent me to the floor once again. The bullet had hit just above my knee, and I was in agony by the time the man stepped forward and began kicking me in the ribs over and over.
In the midst of the beating, he reached down and just tore my shirt open, hastily slashing a large 'X' across my chest. Just like we'd found on Mush. His calling card.
After at least twenty more kicks and punches, they dragged me outside and just threw me off the dock. I was almost unconscious by then, and certainly not able to use my left leg.
And for a moment, I considered just letting myself drown.
You selfish idiot. Think of Mush! He didn't give up, did he?!
I suddenly began fighting to get back to the surface, every struggle for air sending coursing pain through my whole body. I was only inches from the surface and I was quite certain that I wasn't going to make it when a hand grabbed onto my shirt and pulled me up.
As soon as I broke the surface and coughed the water out of my lungs, I knew I was done for. I could practically feel death tugging at me, willing me to give up. Only one thing made me hesitate: Race's voice pleading with me as I was laid down on the shore.
"Skittery, hang in there. We need you. Don't die on me, Skitts!"
I let the darkness take me, and the whole world went black.
Racetrack
"So I asked this guy if he'd seen Skittery, and he says dat a couple of guys took him out onto the docks a few minutes ago. That didn't sound right ta me, so I ran all da way to the dock just in time to see 'em throw Skittery off into da water. They ran right past me, didn't even try ta stop me or nothin'. And I was too worried about Skitts ta follow 'em." I explained to everyone.
Kloppman was sitting by Skittery's bed- or rather, Snipeshooter's bed that he had given up since Skittery had the top bunk. Kloppman had told us that Skittery was gonna live, but by the way he was acting, we knew he was worried. We knew Skittery may die.
"This is bullshit. They're pickin' us off, one by one!" Snitch said, his anger surprising us all. He usually didn't get this mad, or this loud.
Jack suddenly turned to face Kloppman, his frustration shining through in his eyes. "Kloppman, tell us da truth. Is Skittery gonna die?"
"If…if he makes it through tonight, yes. Tonight is going to be the night that decides it." Kloppman said with a sigh, brushing Skittery's hair back from his face. Skitts was just as pale as a sheet of paper, and he was feverish and shaking. It was scary to see a fellow newsie like this. Itey had passed out cold when I brought him in.
"What are we gonna do, Jack?" Snipeshooter asked, his normally tough exterior fading away. Skittery was like a big brother to him- as unlikely as it seems, Snipes made a role model out of Skittery. And now he had to go through all this, maybe even watching Skittery die.
"I don't know. We can't stop sellin'…we gotta make a livin'." Jack said, deep in thought.
"We set a trap."
Everyone turned to face Mush, who was sitting up in bed and looking a whole lot better than yesterday.
"How are we gonna do that?"
Mush thought for a moment, and then continued. "They attack when we're alone. What if we make it look like one of us is alone…but they really aren't?"
I saw a smirk come onto Jack's face. "That's a great idea, Mush! They been jumpin' us, but we can try jumpin' them for once!"
"But who's gonna be da bait?" I asked, and everyone fell silent. After what happened to Mush and Skittery, no one wanted to volunteer, even if they had newsies on all sides.
"I'll do it."
It figures Kid Blink would volunteer to do something like this. He was always up for a dare, even when we weren't even playing truth or dare. He looked around the room, determination set on his face. "I wanna get 'em back for what they done."
"We all do, Blink. We all do." Dutchy said quietly as Skittery coughed violently for a few moments, and then went back to his irregular and shallow breathing. Kloppman looked like he just wanted to break down and cry, but I knew he wouldn't. Not in front of us, at least.
"Who are these guys, anyway? What do they want from us?" Specs asked.
"I have the feelin' dat this is about da strike. I think Pulitzer's gettin' his own 'private revenge' on us." Jack said.
Somehow, we all knew he was right.
And from that same instinct, I knew that Skittery would survive that night. Don't ask me how…I just knew. Call it a 'gambler's sixth sense'. I woulda bet my life savings on it.
We stayed up late, taking shifts watching Skittery and plotting our trap for the next day.
AN: Time for a big scene in the next chapter! Stay tuned and review!
