Frankie felt the bile raise up in her throat and she coughed in her sleep. The sun glared brightly in her line of vision as she stood up. Her bag was sitting beside her and didn't look as wet as she felt. Looking around, she could tell she was still on the pier but the man was gone. How long had she been in the water? Who fished her out?
Looking around for her cell phone and mp3 player she realized they were fried from water damage and probably floating in the water. She was rubbing at her eyes, contemplating taking out her contacts, when she heard loud male voices. Running under the walkway she wedged herself between a few low beams and waited. A large group of boys dressed in cloth overalls or brown pants were stripping down and jumping into the water below. She noticed that a few of them wore Newsboy caps. "I didn't know those were still in style up here." Frankie said to herself. She checked her watch but it was somehow stuck at 4:30pm. "Waterproof my ass!" she hissed bitterly. She saw that most of the boys ranged from what looked like 12- 20 but acted about the same. Frankie positioned herself more comfortably and figured she'd wait until they left.
It was getting dark and she was getting hungry. She climbed her way down to the opposite end of the walkway and shivered in her wet skin. Her clothes weren't dry yet and the heat of the sun was fading. Looking around she saw a large pile of rags wedged between some beams. She changed quickly and noticed that there were a few newsboy caps in the pile. Frankie picked the cleanest one and shoved as much of her dark brown and grey green hair into the hat. She couldn't check her reflection but she figured nobody would give her any trouble. Using the last bit of light left, she quickly inspected her bag and noted the loss of her phone, mp3 player and her New York map. "Figures", she thought. After putting her jeans and jacket into her bag she emerged from beneath the walkway in time to run into someone.
"Oi, watch where you going." The boy said in a thick old fashioned New York accent. He reminded Frankie of the movies about early 1900's and such. She stifled a giggle and stood, only inches shorter than he. She didn't look up but stared at the person's adam apple. "Yo Conlon, we got ourselves a mute here." The boy said loudly. He laughed and soon a larger group emerged from various parts of the pier, some wet and pulling on their clothes, the others looked as it they could use a dip in the water. The group was let by a boy who wasn't one of the tallest or biggest but carried a cane and was hold a slingshot. "Why do I feel like I'm in the Disney version of Gangs of New York." Frankie muttered as the group formed a semi circle around her.
Frankie backed up under the walkway and into the dark shadows of the beams as the boys moved in. "Looks like a spy." Said one. "One of those Harlems I bet." Said another. "Let's soak 'im." Said the boy Frankie had bumped into. She had a bad feeling that soaking didn't have nothing to do with water. They were closer than she realized and she was about to topple into the water below, again. "I didn't do nothing." She yelled loudly in as manly a voice as she could muster. She climbed back up into the beams and onto the walkway and started running. She didn't know where she was running to but anyplace was better than here. She heard whizzing sounds and then felt a sharp pain in her right calf. She let out a yelp as a few more pelted her back and legs. She turned to see what was hitting her and another one bounced off her cheek. They felt like rocks being shot out of a canon and hurt a hell of a lot like frozen paintballs.
Frankie didn't know how long she had run but she just ran forward. She found herself in a town square like area with a big statue in the middle. There were a few kids sleeping on it with signs that read "Strike" in various spellings. Her legs felt like jelly and she ached where she had been pelted. Her vision was hazy and her chest burned when she breathed. She stumbled forwards into the city, trying to find a place to hide for the night. Her vision was shifting and it made her want to vomit. She found a door that wasn't locked and she stumbled inside. It looked like the back stage of an old theater. "How many times do I have to tell you newsies, I don't do free shows." Said a woman with bright red hair and rouged cheeks. Frankie opened her mouth to explain and the world went black.