Chapter 3
Cowboy's long legs covered a lot of ground with each step. Most of the other boys have to do a sort of double step to keep up with him, even if he wasn't in a hurry, or he would have to make a conscious effort to stay with the group. But Chris was tall, just a few inches shorter than Jack, and though he had to hurry, he easily kept to the pace that Jack had set.
As the boys walked, the city came to life around them. Shopkeepers and street vendors peddled everything from walking sticks to fresh fruits and vegetables that had been grown just outside of the city. Business men stopped to have the dust of the streets buffed from their expensive leather shoes. Jack seemed to know or be known by everyone. Though he was in a hurry, he acknowledged every hello and wave.
Even from blocks away, Jack could make out the forms of the fellas gathering at the Distribution Center gates of The World. Snitch, Skittery, Kid Blink and Mush, were front and center, saving a place for Jack and the other boys. The absent boys were most likely making their way after stopping at the Sisters of Mercy bread wagon, as was their daily ritual.
Jack was pointing out some of the Newsies hangouts: Tibby's Restaraunt, Irving Hall, etc. As they entered the far end of what was known as Newsies Square, Chris stopped abruptly grabbing Jacks arm.
"Did ya hear that?" the boy asked, turning to his left, scanning the nearby buildings for the source of the sound that had made him stop. Chris pointed to an alleyway that ran next to one of the shops.
Sounds of a struggle reached the boys. A sharp painful cry split the cool, early morning air.
"Crutchy!" Specs voice gave a name to the cries.
"Ah, Hell!" Jack muttered and took off running in the direction of the alley. "Stay here!"
Jack's order went unheaded. Chris followed just one step behind. Not about to be left standing alone in the middle of the street looking around like a fool.
The narrow alley opened up to a larger courtyard of sorts. A beady eyed boy, Oscar Delancey, with an ugly crooked nose, from being broken more than once, had his arm around Spec's neck, choking him. Specs was struggling, for air, his face turning from dark crimson to purple, fingers digging into Oscar's arm, legs kicking wildly.
Behind the struggling boys stood another thug, Morris Delancey, a thick necked goon, over the broken and battered body of an unconscious Crutchy. He was kicking Crutchy hard in the ribs, taking pleasure in causing as much damage as he could.
Jack glanced at Chris.
The boy nodded and picked up the discarded wooden crutch that lay near his feet. "I got it!" He yelled and motioned for Jack to help the fallen lad on the other side of the alley.
Jack lunged at Morris, taking him to the ground in a flurry of entangled limbs and dust.
Chris shifted his weight and swung the crutch like a club, hitting Oscar across his back. This did little but enrage the thug. He pulled back and swung again, this time connecting so hard with Oscar's shoulder, the death grip was loosened on Specs throat. Specs dropped to all fours gasping for air. Oscar kicked Specs in the face, smashing his glasses and knocking them to the ground. Chris brought the crutch down again, but Oscar, his anger seething from his rat eyes, caught the crutch and yanked on it, pulling Chris close enough to him that the foul smell of unwashed male stung his eyes, then slammed his fist into Chris's left eye.
Jack was wailing on Morris. They were close to the same height but Morris outweighed Jack by at least twenty pounds, so when Morris managed to get a dirty fist to connect with Jacks ribs, with a loud CHRUNCH it definately had an effect on him, though Jack would never allow Delancey the pleasure of this knowledge.
Crutchy whimpered softly, but didn't move.
Specs, bleeding from a jagged three inch gash that ran through his eyebrow to his temple, pulled himself. "Jack?" He sputtered, then spat a mouthful of blood into the dirt. He couldn't see, not only from the blood flooding the side of his face, but because of needing his glasses too. Thick fuzzy images replaced the formerly clear ones.
"Specs! Ya awright?" Jack shouted, just before a meaty fist connected with his jaw.
"Yeah." Specs didn't feel all right. He wanted to lay down and close his eyes.
" Get help!" Jack yelled, punching Morris with an uppercut as he exhaled the words.
Specs nodded, then, with the wave of dizzy nausea that rewarded him for his trouble, he wished he hadn't, and stumbled down the alley toward the street. Please, God, let Crutchy be okay.
Racetrack Higgins was making his way through the square, 50 papes in hand, when Specs stumbled onto the sidewalk twenty yards ahead of him. Specs! Race dropped his papes, made the sign of the cross and ran toward his injured friend. For what Racetrack lacked in stature, he made up for in heart. He reached the mouth of the alley just as Specs dropped to his knees. "Stretch!" he shouted at one of the three Newsies behind him. "Yer gonna wanna git ovah heah!" Specs was in bad shape, but managed to motion to the alley where the other four boys still faught. "Now!"
Race glanced up to see the tall thin girl, dressed in black trousers and a tattered blue shirt, shove her bundle of papes at Mayo and Ershey. Her blonde pony-tail swishing from side to side as she ran to them. He propped Specs up against a brick wall and as soon as Stretch was at Spec's side, Race sprinted down the alley to join in the action.
Oscar's fist plunged deep into Chris's belly causing him to double over.
"Now, now fellas," Race crowed. "How many times da I gotta tell youse not ta fight wiv out me?"
"Check on Crutchy, Race." Jack growled as he wrestled with Morris.
Oscar, distracted by Racetrack's sudden appearance, turned his eyes away from Chris. Chris, taking full advantage of this mistake, brought his knee up, sharp and quick, into Oscar's groin. The older boy sank to the ground. Chris grabbed onto Oscar's shoulders and brought the knee up a second time catching him at the bridge of his nose,blood splattered across both boys. He shoved him, sending him sprawling onto his back, grabbed the crutch and pinned Oscar to the ground with it at his neck and sat heavily on Delancey's chest.
"Ye fancy yersel' a big man d'ya?" Chris hissed through his teeth, spraying blood into the beaten boy's face. His deep green eyes flashed dangerously and narrowed. "Beatin on crippled bairns an' the like." The broad Scottish burr made the words sound even more sinister. "Weel, 'ow d'ya feel noo? Nancy-boy! Fancy another go?" He taunted.
"BULLS!" came a shout from Ershey.
Jack, about to clock Morris upside the head again, let go of his shirt collar, dropping him to the ground. Racetrack, had wanted to get in on the action, but had been more entertained watching the new kid soak Oscar. He had toyed with the idea of pulling the new kid off of him, but decided against it. Happy to watch Oscar Delancey get what he had deserved for so long. "Youse two, beat it!" He said excitedly, "I'll take care a' Crutchy...an' these two."
Jack, stumbled just a bit before finding his feet and grabbing Chris by the waist. "C'mon kid, we gotta skin out!"
Chris reluctantly dropped the crutch and allowed Jack to pull him to his feet. They ran then, Jack half pulling Chris, down an adjoining alley that ran behind a row of shops.
*************************** End Chapter 3 ************************** Author's note: WOW! I know that was a long one. But the last 2 were short so.... Disclaimer blah blah..... I do not own Young Guns. (Darn!) But I have always loved the line. "We gotta skin out!" and have wanted to let Jack say that! If you are confuggled...it means they need to get outta there REALLY FAST! If you haven't seen Young Guns....RENT IT! Keiffer Sutherland and the others are so cute in it! I don't own the Newsies or the characters (though I think Jack and Mush would make great house bois) I do own Chris/Chloe. The following characters (making their debut) are owned by their creators. THANKS FOR LETTIN ME HAVE THEM COME PLAY WITH ME! Hee hee: (Combining list with SOs) Stretch- Twinny! I hope you have a blast at the beach! I told you I would intoduce you before you left and there you are! *Nod nod* Get back safe so ya can tend to yer man!
Ershey- Thanks for bein my reader and lettin me bounce Ideas off yer noggin! Mayo- You need to tend to your man too....poor Crutchy! No more SOs tonight. Too tired. Please read and review! I need all the feedback I can get! Thanks!
-Sage-
Cowboy's long legs covered a lot of ground with each step. Most of the other boys have to do a sort of double step to keep up with him, even if he wasn't in a hurry, or he would have to make a conscious effort to stay with the group. But Chris was tall, just a few inches shorter than Jack, and though he had to hurry, he easily kept to the pace that Jack had set.
As the boys walked, the city came to life around them. Shopkeepers and street vendors peddled everything from walking sticks to fresh fruits and vegetables that had been grown just outside of the city. Business men stopped to have the dust of the streets buffed from their expensive leather shoes. Jack seemed to know or be known by everyone. Though he was in a hurry, he acknowledged every hello and wave.
Even from blocks away, Jack could make out the forms of the fellas gathering at the Distribution Center gates of The World. Snitch, Skittery, Kid Blink and Mush, were front and center, saving a place for Jack and the other boys. The absent boys were most likely making their way after stopping at the Sisters of Mercy bread wagon, as was their daily ritual.
Jack was pointing out some of the Newsies hangouts: Tibby's Restaraunt, Irving Hall, etc. As they entered the far end of what was known as Newsies Square, Chris stopped abruptly grabbing Jacks arm.
"Did ya hear that?" the boy asked, turning to his left, scanning the nearby buildings for the source of the sound that had made him stop. Chris pointed to an alleyway that ran next to one of the shops.
Sounds of a struggle reached the boys. A sharp painful cry split the cool, early morning air.
"Crutchy!" Specs voice gave a name to the cries.
"Ah, Hell!" Jack muttered and took off running in the direction of the alley. "Stay here!"
Jack's order went unheaded. Chris followed just one step behind. Not about to be left standing alone in the middle of the street looking around like a fool.
The narrow alley opened up to a larger courtyard of sorts. A beady eyed boy, Oscar Delancey, with an ugly crooked nose, from being broken more than once, had his arm around Spec's neck, choking him. Specs was struggling, for air, his face turning from dark crimson to purple, fingers digging into Oscar's arm, legs kicking wildly.
Behind the struggling boys stood another thug, Morris Delancey, a thick necked goon, over the broken and battered body of an unconscious Crutchy. He was kicking Crutchy hard in the ribs, taking pleasure in causing as much damage as he could.
Jack glanced at Chris.
The boy nodded and picked up the discarded wooden crutch that lay near his feet. "I got it!" He yelled and motioned for Jack to help the fallen lad on the other side of the alley.
Jack lunged at Morris, taking him to the ground in a flurry of entangled limbs and dust.
Chris shifted his weight and swung the crutch like a club, hitting Oscar across his back. This did little but enrage the thug. He pulled back and swung again, this time connecting so hard with Oscar's shoulder, the death grip was loosened on Specs throat. Specs dropped to all fours gasping for air. Oscar kicked Specs in the face, smashing his glasses and knocking them to the ground. Chris brought the crutch down again, but Oscar, his anger seething from his rat eyes, caught the crutch and yanked on it, pulling Chris close enough to him that the foul smell of unwashed male stung his eyes, then slammed his fist into Chris's left eye.
Jack was wailing on Morris. They were close to the same height but Morris outweighed Jack by at least twenty pounds, so when Morris managed to get a dirty fist to connect with Jacks ribs, with a loud CHRUNCH it definately had an effect on him, though Jack would never allow Delancey the pleasure of this knowledge.
Crutchy whimpered softly, but didn't move.
Specs, bleeding from a jagged three inch gash that ran through his eyebrow to his temple, pulled himself. "Jack?" He sputtered, then spat a mouthful of blood into the dirt. He couldn't see, not only from the blood flooding the side of his face, but because of needing his glasses too. Thick fuzzy images replaced the formerly clear ones.
"Specs! Ya awright?" Jack shouted, just before a meaty fist connected with his jaw.
"Yeah." Specs didn't feel all right. He wanted to lay down and close his eyes.
" Get help!" Jack yelled, punching Morris with an uppercut as he exhaled the words.
Specs nodded, then, with the wave of dizzy nausea that rewarded him for his trouble, he wished he hadn't, and stumbled down the alley toward the street. Please, God, let Crutchy be okay.
Racetrack Higgins was making his way through the square, 50 papes in hand, when Specs stumbled onto the sidewalk twenty yards ahead of him. Specs! Race dropped his papes, made the sign of the cross and ran toward his injured friend. For what Racetrack lacked in stature, he made up for in heart. He reached the mouth of the alley just as Specs dropped to his knees. "Stretch!" he shouted at one of the three Newsies behind him. "Yer gonna wanna git ovah heah!" Specs was in bad shape, but managed to motion to the alley where the other four boys still faught. "Now!"
Race glanced up to see the tall thin girl, dressed in black trousers and a tattered blue shirt, shove her bundle of papes at Mayo and Ershey. Her blonde pony-tail swishing from side to side as she ran to them. He propped Specs up against a brick wall and as soon as Stretch was at Spec's side, Race sprinted down the alley to join in the action.
Oscar's fist plunged deep into Chris's belly causing him to double over.
"Now, now fellas," Race crowed. "How many times da I gotta tell youse not ta fight wiv out me?"
"Check on Crutchy, Race." Jack growled as he wrestled with Morris.
Oscar, distracted by Racetrack's sudden appearance, turned his eyes away from Chris. Chris, taking full advantage of this mistake, brought his knee up, sharp and quick, into Oscar's groin. The older boy sank to the ground. Chris grabbed onto Oscar's shoulders and brought the knee up a second time catching him at the bridge of his nose,blood splattered across both boys. He shoved him, sending him sprawling onto his back, grabbed the crutch and pinned Oscar to the ground with it at his neck and sat heavily on Delancey's chest.
"Ye fancy yersel' a big man d'ya?" Chris hissed through his teeth, spraying blood into the beaten boy's face. His deep green eyes flashed dangerously and narrowed. "Beatin on crippled bairns an' the like." The broad Scottish burr made the words sound even more sinister. "Weel, 'ow d'ya feel noo? Nancy-boy! Fancy another go?" He taunted.
"BULLS!" came a shout from Ershey.
Jack, about to clock Morris upside the head again, let go of his shirt collar, dropping him to the ground. Racetrack, had wanted to get in on the action, but had been more entertained watching the new kid soak Oscar. He had toyed with the idea of pulling the new kid off of him, but decided against it. Happy to watch Oscar Delancey get what he had deserved for so long. "Youse two, beat it!" He said excitedly, "I'll take care a' Crutchy...an' these two."
Jack, stumbled just a bit before finding his feet and grabbing Chris by the waist. "C'mon kid, we gotta skin out!"
Chris reluctantly dropped the crutch and allowed Jack to pull him to his feet. They ran then, Jack half pulling Chris, down an adjoining alley that ran behind a row of shops.
*************************** End Chapter 3 ************************** Author's note: WOW! I know that was a long one. But the last 2 were short so.... Disclaimer blah blah..... I do not own Young Guns. (Darn!) But I have always loved the line. "We gotta skin out!" and have wanted to let Jack say that! If you are confuggled...it means they need to get outta there REALLY FAST! If you haven't seen Young Guns....RENT IT! Keiffer Sutherland and the others are so cute in it! I don't own the Newsies or the characters (though I think Jack and Mush would make great house bois) I do own Chris/Chloe. The following characters (making their debut) are owned by their creators. THANKS FOR LETTIN ME HAVE THEM COME PLAY WITH ME! Hee hee: (Combining list with SOs) Stretch- Twinny! I hope you have a blast at the beach! I told you I would intoduce you before you left and there you are! *Nod nod* Get back safe so ya can tend to yer man!
Ershey- Thanks for bein my reader and lettin me bounce Ideas off yer noggin! Mayo- You need to tend to your man too....poor Crutchy! No more SOs tonight. Too tired. Please read and review! I need all the feedback I can get! Thanks!
-Sage-