A special thanks to Austra for her review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or any of its characters, but I do own all others.

Runrunrun as fast as you can.

I was forced to remember the irony of my life: I was a delivery girl, constantly hurrying from place to place, yet I hated running. I did not relish the stickiness and acrid smell of sweat or the aching muscles that came after running a little too far. They simply were not things to be enjoyed.

My silent complaints fell on deaf ears as I ran away from the horrible probability of jail. That rotten bugger Pulitzer. I should have seen through those deceiving kindly-looking wrinkles – I would have found the schemer inside, the man that not only cheated kids out of hard-earned money, but laughed all the way to the bank.

The policemen ran heavily behind me – from what I could tell they were a good twenty feet behind. I was suddenly thankful to Caroline Woods for having sent me all over Manhattan with a hatbox in hand and only minutes to spare for an on-time delivery. My legs had been preparing for a day like this and I hadn't even known.

Despite my practice, my lungs were still burning from the concentrated effort of escaping my pursuers' grubby hands. I could feel each fiber of muscle expanding and contracting in my legs as they moved, and I knew I would have an abominable soreness later.

I wondered later what everyone shopping in the streets thought as I passed by, chased by two policemen. I didn't have time to think of it in the moment, but how their faces must have looked! The only thing I could concentrate on was the direction from whence we had come in the carriage so I could find that blasted ladder Jack had mentioned.

Speaking of Jack, I thought, nearly crashing into the baker with his basket of bread, where the heck were he and David? Why was I running, all by myself, away from the man they wanted to get to? It all seemed so unfair. So very, very unfair.

I neatly missed crashing into an unsuspecting woman carrying her baby and a basket of fruit. She screeched as I neared her, and only just in time did I skip around her and her cargo. My swiftness helped her not, however, for as soon as I had passed, one of the faster-than-I-had-anticipated policemen ran right into her. I could hear the bruising thud of the fruit on the cobblestones, angry shouting and apologetic murmuring as I ran on, hoping the other would stop and help he who had fallen.

I took one dangerous glance behind me, hoping that perhaps they had been forced to abandon their chase. I smiled as I saw the fatter of the two bending down and helping the woman, who was standing righteously above him and ordering him to pick up the fruit from the ground and place them gently into her basket once again. I was so concentrated on the scene that I nearly forgot about the other. A sharp whistle and a "Stop, you!" brought me back around, and I noticed he was now about fifteen feet away from me.

I snapped my head back, looking around wildly for the World building. I expected to see its gold bravura from the street, but I came upon nothing other than the regular humdrum buildings one was used to seeing around the city. There was no sign of The World, and there was no sign of my newspaper-selling companions. I pondered the fairness of calling them such, as they had clearly abandoned me.

The policeman's shouts grew louder and my legs were beginning to ache from running so far and so fast. I never thought I would meet my sportive match, but he was tall and lanky: I quickly regretted underestimating his athletic prowess. He may have looked scrawny back at the carriage, but his legs were much longer than mine.

And then it happened. The worst thing that possibly could have happened, and what I profoundly feared in the back of my mind since hearing those whistles.

I tripped.

I tripped hard, and fell with a smack against the cobblestones, my hands doing their best to soften the blow under me. I thought I could hear the delighted grin of the man following me as I tried my hardest to pull myself up off the ground. As I pushed, I groaned and felt pain shoot up through my arm. There was a trail of blood running down my elbow. If I had broken something, I was merely thankful I couldn't see it, because the sight of a bone coming out of my skin would have knocked me out once and for all. The pain was gut-wrenching and suddenly I couldn't decide which was worse: having to continue on with the chase or being forced into a clammy jail cell.

Was it a miracle or fate? It could be either, neither or both, but I was saved. The two boys, whom I had imagined were eating happily in Tibby's, forgetting all about their forlorn foreign friend, pulled me up off the ground.

"Jeez, Cuba, ya really are clumsy," I heard Jack's voice say, somewhere around the vicinity of my head. I was already imagining that I was going to jail, and his voice sounded like a dream.

"Whaa?" I said, much to my embarrassment now.

I got no reply, because I was whisked off down an alley. The two boys ran on either side of me, and from the curly hair I could tell David was on my right. Well, my right or my left, depending on how you looked at it, because while they were running forward, I was facing behind.

I cocked my head stupidly at the sight of The World building, gently fading away as I was carried further down the alley. My view was unfortunately blocked by that skinny twig of a policeman, and I scowled, realizing where I was once again.

"Let me go! I can run myself!" I screamed, causing the two to drop my arms immediately. I turned toward the alley and in less than a second we were off again. Jack ran ahead and found the ladder on the right hand side of the alley, just like he had said.

"Come on, come on," he said, with a sweeping motion of his hand. "We ain't got time to mess around."

Who did he think he was talking to?

David reached him first, and Jack tried to push him up the ladder. David gave a bleat of protest, but he finally climbed up. I went next and Jack brought of the rear of our trio. It was an unfortunate place for Jack to be: not because of the trailing police officers, as one would imagine, but rather from my constant complaints that he had a clear view up my dress.

"I ain't lookin' anywhere!" he claimed, but I was not convinced.

"You better not be! If I catch you looking I'll –"

"Izzie, just shut up and climb!"

The building was taller than it had looked, and I imagined I was scaling the side of a bookstore catering to giants. The policeman looked like a paper doll below us and I almost laughed, but was scared once again as he cursed and threw up his arms as he ran toward us.

I let out an embarrassing squeal and stopped momentarily on the ladder.

"What the hell is wrong with ya, Cuba, keep goin'! " I heard Jack yell below me.

David was perhaps a bit more subtle. He turned and looked down at me, eyes pleading. "Please, Izzie, you have to keep going!"

I nodded and kept up the ladder, focusing my eyes on the brick wall in front of me. One hand after the other, one brick above the next, one rung left behind, and we finally made our way to the top of the building.

The time of day had completely flown over my head and I was shocked to see the sun setting over the tops of the buildings. It would have been a nice sight, unfortunate as the situation was, but I was pushed forward as soon as I stood up by an anxious Jack Kelly.

"Go!" he commanded, and I had no choice (no other good choice, that is) than to keep running. We dashed under clotheslines, tearing down more than a few starched sheets. I turned around to see how far we had come and nearly doubled over – David had a pair of silky undergarments on his head, flapping around like a sort of feminine hat. He growled when he saw me and I decided to be gracious and keep running.

At any moment I was expecting to hear gunshots ring out against the early evening sky, but what I heard was much worse. From behind I heard the expected whistle, but I didn't expect to hear ten more ring out below. How had they managed to catch up to us so quickly? Where had ten more police officers come from? I ran faster, because thinking made my panic worse.

In a minute, I was next to Jack. I had forgotten how fast he was since the first day we met and he brought me to Mrs. Parker's mansion. I almost cried at the thought that I would have happily welcomed one of her lectures at that moment. Only too happily.

"This way," Jack said, jerking his head to the left. He ran in front of me and I saw what he was planning. No thinking, Isabel, no thinking. Not the time to think. So stop. It won't do any good.

We jumped. Well, we all must have jumped, because we all made it to the next building with nothing more than a couple darkly unattractive bruises and a few rosy scratches, but I wasn't focused on "we" in that moment. I was focused on seeing an alley pass below me, in the slowest motion possible, as my legs sprawled out like an awkward chicken in front of me. I landed on my bum, and was embarrassed when David jumped next to me and had to pull me up. My bruised bottom was only second compared to my bruised pride.

I hoped the policeman would be too chicken to jump himself. We were daredevils, risk-takers, fools. What self-respecting police officer would do the same as a group of crazy kids, right?

Wrong, as usual. I heard a thud behind us and realized he had caught up quite quickly. I didn't dare turn around to face him, for that would waste more time and my nerves would slow my legs down, so I just kept on. I could tell David was getting tired: his breathing was growing heavier and heavier as the rooftops wore on and on. Were we even in Manhattan anymore? Strange how a city can look so different when you're on top of it.

"Davey!" I heard Jack yell from in front of me. "We've gotta hide in yer house!"

My head jerked towards David, who was a few feet behind me.

"No, Jack!" he said, and I could see the panic in his eyes. "I'm not going to get my family involved in this!"

I couldn't see Jack's face ahead of me, but I knew what it looked like. It was the same determined look he had when he cornered me in the theatre, cajoled me in the restaurant, and wheedled me in the alley. Pure, utter decision.

"We ain't got no choice, Davey. They're gonna follow us 'round all day if we don't. They know we're newsies – they'll go to the lodging house. Ya want them to catch everyone else, too?" I could feel David cringe. Hell, I cringed. I didn't like being in the middle of their spat. "We'll do it fast. They'll never know where we went."

I stopped paying attention. Partly because I had no say in the matter, and mostly because we were coming up on a building that was much higher than the one we were on. Only if we had been monkeys would we have been able to scale that building, and I was confident we could not change species so quickly.

I stopped, skidding a bit across the roof. We were at the edge, and the only direction to go was down (see note above). David stopped next to me and looked across me at Jack, who was on my other side.

The only way across was to jump – onto the fire escape. Sure, we had hopped across the tops of buildings just minutes before, but not onto a flimsy wire ladder. Besides looking painfully feeble, there would be three bodies on it, and from Jack's height I could tell my bony frame wouldn't compensate for much of anything.

"Stop!" It didn't take a genius to realize who was calling after us. The gravelly voice and pattering footsteps said enough.

I could feel David's breath against my neck. "Go," he said, and I felt myself being pushed forward.

I did the stupidest thing I could possibly do. Yes, I closed my eyes as I jumped. Although instinctive, closing one's eyes is not a good idea when jumping from one building to the next. I can't even imagine how ridiculous I must have looked. It's probable that neither Jack nor David saw me do it, but I like to imagine the horrified expressions on their faces as I careened toward brick and cement.

My eyes were still closed when my hands gripped metal and I winced. I had forgotten about my elbow – but I could worry about that later. Was the distance less than I had thought? Theoretically, it must have been a short jump, but my flight through the air felt as long as the unfortunate dinner party my aunt had prepared one Thursday back in Cuba.

I stood gazing at the metal grating below me. I heard one pair of feet jump beside me, and then another. I looked up and David was nearly skipping down the stairs, jangling the entire contraption. Jack pushed me and I followed David down the fire escape: two wobbling stories. I ran into David as I came to a halt and pushed him right into the window he was trying to open.

He glared at me for a second and then opened the window entirely. He jumped in, holding out his hand to help me. Jack leaped through behind.

"What is going on?" I heard a woman say, or rather shriek. "David!"

David closed the window tightly and turned.

"Ma, it's all right. We're just playing a game with a couple other newsies and had to hide."

I choked on my guffaw. Jack glared at me.

"We don't mean to cause any problems, Mrs. Jacobs," Jack said, looking uncharacteristically meek.

Her eyes softened and I was surprised. She didn't see right through this?

"It's quite all right, Jack dear," she said, folding her hands. Then she looked at me, clearly confused. "And what is your name, dear?"

A whistle cut off my answer and I nearly fainted. I could feel my eyes rambling around the room, looking for a makeshift escape from an even more uncomfortable situation.

Mrs. Jacobs (how nice she seemed, and how horrible I felt!) narrowed her eyes and looked out the window, then turning her gaze to us three. I heard David shift on his feet, but Jack remained silent. Could she see the panic in my face? It was likely.

No one spoke as the whistles came nearer. Had the officers on the ground somehow flown up to the rooftops? I waited with bated breath for the sound of boots on the fire escape, but it never came. The whistles went on unceasingly. If they thought they would drive us mad enough with the noise to show ourselves, they might have been right, had it not been for the woman glaring in front of me.

Finally, the noises died away. I tried to sneak a glance at David, but he was still looking at the floor. I felt my heart lurch for him.

I looked at his mother. She was staring at him, hard too, and her arms were crossed. Was it worse to be in prison, or to get your friend in trouble with his mother? It was not clear to me then, and it remains unclear now.

After a painful moment of utter silence, she cleared her throat.

"You two must be starving," she said, and I saw her look at Jack and me. "Let me see if I have anything here for you." Had she really not mentioned David? The guilt was really setting in.

So Jack and I sat at the table with a contrite David, who was determined not to meet our glances. Mrs. Jacobs didn't ask any questions, but I don't think she needed to. Our faces were proof enough. Even Jack, who I had thought was used to such situations, had a guilty wrinkle in the corner of his mouth.

Mrs. Jacobs gave me a towel to wipe the blood of my elbow and a cup of tea. It would have been a pleasant evening, under different circumstances. When it was finally dark, we thanked Mrs. Jacobs and nodded goodbye to David, who closed the door after us a bit too slowly. Jack walked me home.

"I take it Pulitzer didn't like what ya had to say."

I kicked a stone that was lying in a crack in the street. "I guess not."

He was quiet then, for a while. I certainly didn't feel like talking. I had to plan how I was going to get to work every day without the police on my tail.

"Doesn't matter," I heard him say.

"What?" I stopped and turned to him.

He looked at me straight on. "Doesn't matter. He had the chance to get out clean. If he won't listen, we'll make him listen."

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?" It came out snottier than I had anticipated.

Jack didn't notice and continued walking. "We'll have a rally. Get all the newsies in New York to come." He turned and looked at me. "And you'll bring all the Cubans."

I cleared my throat and widened my eyes. "All the Cubans? To the rally?"

"Yeah. Start lookin' for people tomorrow and come to the lodging house."

I looked at the street, barely making out my feet in the darkness. "I guess I'll see what I can do."