Chapter 4

The other greasers got up and followed Roy without question. The seven friends went into a dark alley and came into a vacant lot surrounded by buildings, alleys, and wire fence. This was the centre of Frank Miller's gangster empire. Graffiti covered the alley walls telling anyone entering what was inside. There were four guys there, who drew switchblades at the sight of the newcomers. Roy and Bill were common sights however, and they were welcomed as was the rest of the gang.

Bill nodded at them, "Frank?"

One spoke for all four of them, "He's been out and around. He'll be back soon."

Dally looked them over. They all had the traditional leather jacket on with the name 'Miller' on the back of their jackets. These were the true hoods of New York, the ones who caused trouble, the ones who were scared of nothing.

Dally, for the second time that day, was caught from behind when he felt two sharp edges on his neck and a handgun muzzle on his back. He smiled thinly, "Back so soon Frank?" the muzzle and edges disappeared and Dallas knew it was safe to turn around. There were around fourteen guys crowding the alley, all holding a switchblade. Dally shook hands with the first three, who were the Miller boys, two brothers and a cousin of the same family.

Jeff Miller was seventeen, tall, all muscle on the outside, and all bitter on the inside. He was the iron fist behind Frank's steel one. Jeff had a burning passion for greaser life and despised all law enforcement. He was a hard guy, but he had pride in the life he led, especially in his walnut-coloured swirls of greasy hair.

Matt Miller was a husky, streetwise hood with a tough but handsome face. He was one of those hoods that were better with his streetwise brains rather than his fists, but he was no slouch of a fighter. Matt had black hair and black eyes and a tanned face. He could sense a cop or a rival gang without even opening his eyes.

There was no denying that Frank Miller was the leader of the Miller gang. At eighteen, with cold-green eyes, ebony-coloured hair, and a scarred face with a broken nose, he was like Bill Florence; tough, bitter, dangerous, and violent. He was one of the most powerful gangsters on the wild side; come to think of it any side, of New York. Jeff and Matt, his two cousins, were his most trusted members, but he was without doubt the leader.

"What's going on Dallas?' Frank Miller was looking cheerful, but you always had to be aware that it was Frank Miller who was talking.

"Not much,' Dally's answer was quick and toneless. Bill and Roy were chatting away with Matt and Jeff and the others just mingled with the rest of the Miller Gang.

Dally noticed something was going on at the end of the alley, 'hey, what's up?"

Two figures came quietly into the lot. One called out, "Hey, look what we found!" Everyone turned to see what was going on.

Two of Miller's gang had stolen a wallet off some guy. It looked like the guy had a couple a hundreds to burn, because the wallet was made out of black leather with gold and silver designs. There was at least four hundred dollars inside. Dally didn't feel too interested, which was understandable because the possibility of getting some of that money was impossible. One rule with the Miller Gang was that you kept what you stole, and you were never forced to share. But it looked like no one would benefit from the loot because there was the sound of sirens in the air, getting louder and louder.

Dallas, Chuck, Roy, Tim, Moe, Bill, and Ralph were the first to react to the cops' noises. Ducking behind a dumpster in the alley they came in, they watched the Miller Gang split into a dozen pieces faster than a cheap wine bottle hitting a sidewalk. Dally could pick out Frank ducking a policeman and running into the nearest alley. The cops got into groups of three, trying to make an organized search. Dally almost laughed thinking about it. Seeing New York's Finest trying to catch the Miller Gang in the maze of alleys and buildings that they knew better than their own names was a hoot. The cops gave up quick enough. They knew when they were whipped. They were on the Miller's turf. No point chasing a pack of rats down their own hole.

Dally and the others got up and started walking away, when out popped Frank Miller and his two cousins and three other gang members right beside them. Even Roy and Bill were shocked at how fast they had gotten away. Frank explained with his usual bitter grin on his face, "We been leading them cops all the way to Chicago and back, the dirty…" he continued by naming the police of New York anything negative and rude he could imagine sounded good.

The others laughed. Frank had never even gotten close to getting caught. Chuck looked at the setting sun as they got out of the alley, "Its getting dark. I better get going." As he was leaving, Roy ran after him.

"Hey wait up, Chuck, I gotta go the same way as you, anyway,"

Dally curiously looked at Frank, Jeff, and Matt, " Where are you going?"

Frank nodded at Jeff and Matt and turned to leave, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." He said this cheerful enough, but Dally knew that he should keep his mouth shut right about now.

He turned his attention to Bill, who at this point was the only guy left, "Say Bill, instead of the streets, lets go to my house. All we got to deal with there is a moron who once called himself my father."

Bill looked at him for a second, then nodded, "alright"

Chapter Five

Dally's father gave no objection to Bill's staying. In fact he wasn't even there when they arrived. He came in just as they got into their beds, and as usual, ignored his only son. Bill was sitting upright on his bed, and Dally contemplated on whether to ask or not. He didn't need to, because Bill smashed his fist into the wall in silent fury. Dally stood upright, "Hey Bill, what are you…"

"I hate it!" Bill screamed and lowered his head.

Dally was surprised, but not shook. Bill was capable of having a temper like this, and he had good reason. He had been rumoured to have killed a guy to avenge his father's death, his mother had abandoned him, and everyone except other hoods disliked him.

"Hey man, what's wrong?" Dally asked.

If Bill had never cried in his life, this was the closest he'd ever get, "I just can't stand this bedroom!"

Dally was puzzled, "Why?"

Bill looked down. "The last time I was in a bedroom was when… when… Look just shut up alright!" He got up and was about to leave, when he turned back, fighting to keep his voice level, "Sorry Dal. Its not you." He then turned around and left. He would probably get drunk, as Dally knew he was capable of doing, and if he got drunk enough, he'd rob a corner store on the street, or do something against the law, which was quite likely. Dally got up and followed Bill into the local park. Bill was sitting on a bench. He looked cooled off now, but looks were deceiving.

Bill saw Dally coming, "What are you doing here?"

Dally shrugged. Bill didn't pursue the subject. "Dal, have you ever just wanted to do something big, something that lashes out at a lot of people?"

Dally thought about it. Come to think of it, he had sometimes just wanted to let out the anger against his father out on something or someone. Like that teenage boy he had beaten up. "Yeah"

"Well someday I'm just gonna snap and take as much out as I can." Bill had a feverish voice, and Dallas couldn't help thinking about what he knew about Bill.

Bill had always seemed tough and unfeeling. Dally couldn't help wondering about the famous rumour that had turned Bill into a killer. "Bill, did you really kill a guy when you were eight years old?" He immediately wished he hadn't said that, because the long look that Bill gave him would have been enough to send a full-grown grizzly bear running home. Bill finally spoke, and when he did, it was like the sound of two rocks grinding together. "Listen Dal. You or anyone can think whatever they goddamn want about me, but I am never going to tell the truth. Ever!" Dally was convinced that Bill was going to crack any time soon. He looked ready to at least. "All right Bill all right."

Bill looked away, with that look on his face not changing a bit. Dally got up and left.

Chapter Six

Bill looked much better the next day. He was back to normal, for the moment at least. Dally and Tim decided to go to Central Park. Bill, however, claimed he had other plans, and only Roy went with him. Moe was at work, so Chuck joined Dally, Tim and Ralph.

Central Park was a huge place, like a forest. Dally never went there often, but it was a great place for the average New Yorker, to be away from all the hustle and bustle for a few minutes.

The four hoods caught a few stares, some in admiration, most in disapproval, hate, or even fear. They didn't seem to notice.

There was this one place in the whole park that Dally liked best. It was this huge tree, maybe the oldest one in the whole park. He had always loved to climb it and view New York City. He didn't hesitate, and was staring over the tops of the trees in a minute. Tim was halfway up, seeing if he could catch a squirrel. Chuck was reading a book at the base of the tree, and Ralph was walking around, trying to look for cardinals' feathers, which was a strange hobby he had taken up while he was still in school.

Dally looked at the horizon due south. He knew that was where Tim Shepard's family lived, but why would they live down there? New York had all the action in America rolled up into its dark alleys where fights were common. Dally remembered his first organized gang fight, where he had beaten up two at once, standing over the unconscious leader of the gang that Dally had been with. It had gained him a reputation, as well as Roy and Bill's respect.

Dally's thoughts were broken by girls' screams. Tim must have stuck his head out at the wrong time. He now lay hidden behind a clump of leaves. He wildly mouthed to Dally to come over, and when he did, they listened to the girl. "You son of a…!" she went on until she ran off, still swearing. Tim was looking half shocked, half dazed, and when he turned to Dally is face had a surprised triumph to his face, "Come on. Let's beat it before she comes back with the fuzz!"

"Hey, you two up there?"

Chuck and Ralph had wisely bolted when Tim had been yelled at, and were now looking for the two of them.

"Yeah, alive and kicking!" Dally yelled, laughing as he swung down from the tree. Tim followed. The four went to the southern end of the park, which was darkening as the sun was setting. Dally looked at Tim, who was describing the beautiful sight of an angry squirrel he had seen in the tree. Dally shook his head.

They had all gone their separate ways a few minutes later, so now only Tim and Dally remained. The two were walking down the street, when two girls came walking the other way.

These weren't the average girls in New York. If God made female hoods, these were his creation. Dally figured that most girls made bad hoods, with a few exceptions like these. Tim liked them because sometimes if they got drunk enough, they would do anything for a pickup. Some however didn't need to get drunk to want a pickup, and these two were plainly sober. Dally and Tim sped up, because these girls were giggling and pointing at the two hoods coming their way. Dally looked at Tim, and could tell what was going through his head. Dally decided that he wanted the same thing. And it was right in front of him.

The two girls came up, looking them down. Dallas and Tim did likewise, with more eagerness and interest. The girls were obviously related, as they had the same eyes, hard and hazel-coloured. One had short, orange, bushy hair; the other had brown, wavy hair down to her shoulders. They were both around the same size and age. Dallas guessed they were either fourteen or fifteen. The redhead had a jeans jacket and a pair of jeans pants. The brunette had on a thin, buttoned-up shirt, and jeans pants. Both were really attractive-looking.

Tim was in the dream of his life, "So, what are you two fine ladies doing here?" he asked in mock courtesy, hinting that he knew perfectly well what they wanted, and he wanted it too.

The redhead, who had developed an interest in him, giggled and responded, "Ooooh aren't you a cutie? What's your name?"

Tim put up what he thought was a drawn in and mysterious face, "Even I don't know." He whispered, and then joined the redhead in her peals of laughter, "Tim Shepard, and that there's Dallas Winston. And you?"

The brunette, who had been staring at Dally, answered, "I'm Lucy, and that's my cousin, Sandy.' Sandy turned back to Dallas and commented, ' I haven't seen you before, handsome, where are you from?"

Dallas, who had begun to look tough, shrugged as if he didn't have a care in the world. That was his strategy tonight.

Sandy giggled and, for some reason, nudged Lucy. She looked at him for a split second and looked away again.

Dallas smiled, and he folded his arms, "Well now, aren't you gals are beautiful? What do you think Tim?'

Tim acted as the big toughie again, "You sure you two want to go into the alley with two dangerous hoods like us?" He laughed.

Sandy smiled, "What could happen? We're asking you guys." She laughed.

Dally and Tim exchanged glances. Bill and Roy would turn green when they heard about it! The four went into the alley. Tim and Sandy went out of sight.

Dally watched them, and then turned to face Lucy, who pulled him around so that he had his back to the wall. Lucy faced him. Dally studied her face. He could somehow tell that she was using the same tactics he had been. She now seemed to have a look of hesitation in her face. Then he smiled warmly at her. It wasn't part of his strategy, he had suddenly felt a strong affection for Lucy, who smiled and slowly brought her head close to Dallas. Time flew after that, until Dally didn't know how long it had been. He didn't care one little bit.