Disclaimer: Ditto
Chapter 10:
"Newsies soak prophet and all his men!" Snitch shouted. Itey elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Ow…Geez, Itey."
"You can't say stuff like that, Snitch."
"Why not? We do it all the time! 'Sides. Give us a week and it'll be true anyway. Hey! Maybe I'se a prophet…predictin' the future an' all." Snitch grinned.
Itey shook his head and pushed through the crowd, holding up a paper as he went. Even with all of the recent events, the headlines were dull and seemed to overlook that the poor people of New York were in danger. Not that they really cared. No one did.
"Hey kid!" Itey spun around, and so did Snitch. A man hurried toward them, holding a shiny nickel in the air. Itey smiled eagerly shooting Snitch a triumphant look before removing a paper from his stack.
"Any exciting news today?" he asked in a heavy Scottish accent, once he had come to a halt in front of the boys.
"Sure, there's always excitin' news," Snitch said.
"Like what? Any fires?"
"None that were written 'bout. But we know of one. Buy a couple papes, we'll tell you all about it."
The man grinned. "So young. So foolish." He tucked the coin back into his pocket. Itey gulped.
"You wanna pape or not?" he asked.
"I'm not here to make business deals with orphans—"
"We ain't orphans," Snitch spat. "Itey's got hisself a mother and I gots me a father. A little brother too."
The man laughed. "Why don't you boys come with me. Tell me about that fire."
Itey shook his head. "We ain't interested."
"Suit yourself. We'll just have to do this the hard way." He shrugged and then placing two fingers in his mouth, he whistled.
Snitch grabbed Itey's arm and started to pull as other men began to emerge from the crowd.
"Run Itey!" He called over his shoulder, dropping his papers. Itey held tightly to his for a few minutes, until Snitch started to pull away leaving a bigger gap between them. Now, was not a good time to split up, Itey decided. He threw down his papers and increased his speed, keeping his eyes on Snitch's back and dodging people in the streets.
Looking over his shoulder, he realized the men were right on his tail.
"We ain't gonna lose 'em," Snitch shouted.
"Sure we will," said Itey. "Who knows these streets better than us?" He grabbed Snitch's arm then and tugged his friend into a nearby alley. They scaled the brick wall at the end and then continued running, certain the men wouldn't stop their pursuit until they caught what they had come for.
"Come on, Itey," Snitch coaxed, grabbing Itey's arm.
"No fair! Your legs are longer."
"We can fight about this later."
They both looked back at the same time. All four of the men had successfully cleared the wall as well.
The boys darted into another street, hoping to lose themselves in the crowd, constantly looking behind them.
"I don't see 'em," Itey said.
"What?" Snitch glanced behind him, slowing a little.
"You think they gave up?" Itey asked. They were still running, but they had slowed down a great deal.
"No," Snitch said. "They gots somethin' up their sleeves."
Suddenly he ran into a brick wall with a loud "oof" and stumbled backward into Itey.
"Where are you kids off to in such a hurry?" The brick wall asked. Both Itey and Snitch looked from the man, to one another and then back again. At the same time, they started to run.
…
"I ain't seen 'em all day," Boots said, cowering under Jack's desperate stare. Jack clenched his teeth and then ordered boots to turn in.
"Who ain't he seen?" Blink set his leftover papers on a table and looked at Jack expectantly.
"Snitch or Itey…they're the only ones that ain't back yet."
"You want we should go look for them?" Dutchy volunteered.
Jack shook his head. "I can't lose any more o' youse. Skitts says they're gunnin' for us."
"Eh, what's he know?" Racetrack grumbled.
"Enough," Jack said. "Enough to keep us alert and ready."
"He's probably settin' us up for another ambush."
Just then, the jailhouse door banged open and Snitch and Itey ran inside. They slammed it hard and collapsed against it, breathing heavily.
"What happened to youse?" Jack asked, inspecting each boy quickly for any sign of injury.
"Nothin'…we was…sellin'…and a man started chasin' us…"
"Him and his whole gang…we finally lost 'em on 44th, but we ran all the way back just so to make sure."
"But they didn't touch you? No cuts, no bruises? Nothin'?"
"Nothin'."
Jack grinned. "Welcome back boys. Turn in now. Its late." Snitch and Itey nodded and then moved to their cots.
Jack turned to Racetrack who sat in a chair in the corner, habitually shuffling his old deck of cards.
"I know what you're thinkin', Cowboy."
"Oh you do?"
"Yeah I do." Racetrack stood up and crossed the short distance between them. He had to tilt his head up to look Jack in the eye. "Stop thinkin' it. He's two faced. Nothin' but a scab."
"Two faced or not, he warned us, Race. That counts for somethin'."
"Yeah well," Racetrack turned away. "He's lucky I'm charitable is all."
"I think deep down, Race. You know he's still one o' us."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Race replied simply.
…
Skittery cringed as the jail house door creaked. He turned around quickly to make sure the noise hadn't woken anyone up, and then pushed himself through the small opening into the cool night air.
His body ached all over as he pulled the door closed.
"Goin' somewhere?" A voice to his right asked.
"Jack." Skittery tried to keep the alarm out of his voice. "I was…just comin' out for a smoke."
Jack stepped closer to him, obvious distrust written all over it. "A smoke huh?"
"That's right."
"So smoke."
Skittery narrowed his eyes and then reached into his pocket. It was empty. He reached into the other one only to find it just as bare. "Whadda ya know," he said tartly. "I'm all out."
Jack smiled slightly and then handed Skittery his half smoked cigarette. "Help yourself. It's my last one."
Skittery shook his head. "Nah. I ain't gonna take your last one."
"No big deal. I'll get more from Snitch in the mornin'. Go one. Take it." Jack pushed the cigarette closer to Skittery but Skittery shook his head again.
"I ain't in the mood for smokin' no more."
Jack shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Skittery watched him closely, edging toward the steps leading down to the road. "I think I'll just take a little walk," he said.
He hurried down the steps and into the street and thought for a fleeting moment that maybe Jack was going to let him go.
Until he felt a tug on his collar and nearly fell over as his feet struggled to keep their balance.
"Not alone."
Skittery pulled himself free of Jack's grip. "I can watch out for myself," he growled.
"Oh? Is that why you came back to us, half dead? You were out for almost a week, Skittery."
"That was different. Ain't no one gonna see me."
"Where are you goin' at least. You know, in case you ain't back by mornin' we'll know where to look for your dead body."
Skittery shoved Jack hard, and the taller boy staggered slightly, but righted himself and then grabbed Skittery's arm when he tried to abscond.
"Let go a me," Skittery said.
"Not until you tell me what you're up to."
"This don't concern you, Cowboy. This is between me and him."
"Him? Loffstetter you mean?"
Skittery narrowed his eyes, angry that he had slipped up. Jack wasn't dumb. He would figure things out.
"Yeah. Loffstetter. You got a problem?"
"Yeah I got a problem. Why are you runnin' off to him in the middle of the night when a week ago, he tried to kill us, and he left you for dead!?" Jack's eyes were wide with anger, but Skittery felt just as livid. "Does a warm bed mean that much to you that you'd go back to him?"
Skittery pushed Jack away again, harder this time, and Jack didn't try to hold him back.
"You don't know anything! I have more reason than any of you to hate Jacob. If anyone gets to declare war on him, its me!"
"He's after us all, Skittery."
"But he didn't kill your parents!" Skittery snapped him mouth shut and looked down at the ground.
"What are you talkin' about?"
"What part don't make sense? Jacob killed my family because they were poor, just like me. And somehow I got away. I have to stop him. Not you. Not Spot. Not anyone but me."
Jack didn't move to stop him when he started to run again, his bones aching and his eyes threatening to spill tears of fury and hate.