Chapter 12

A Run-of-the-Mill Beat Down

October

Shouts echoed off the walls of the dimly lit alley way and Flash could tell they were not of the friendly sort. Things had been relatively calm in Harlem since she started doing surveillance there. It wasn't quite as bustling as the rest of New York, sleepy and slower in comparison. The shouts were out of character. Flash knew that she should ignore them. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile after all. But... Against her better judgement, she went to investigate anyways.

She turned the corner and watched the scene unfold in front of her. There was a small newsboy, maybe near ten, tiny for his age. Couldn't have been taller than four foot and that was a generous assumption. He was facing off with two other newsboys of much bigger stature. They were practically twice his size and looked to be at least fifteen. They had him cornered and the boy was swinging wildly to try and get them to back away.

"Leave me alone! I didn't do nothing!" the boy screamed. "You just go away!"

The burlier one of the two chuckled meanly. "We don't take orders from tiny shrimps like you. Just give us the damn money kid. Don't be a hero."

"B-but it's mine. I earned it!"

"Yeah? Well now it's ours. Hand it over before I break you in half." This came from the other one. He wiped a chunk of greasy hair out of his face. It lay plastered across his forehead. Flash could practically see the oil dripping from it.

The young boy darted forward, trying to squeeze through the small gap in between the two older boys but he wasn't fast enough. Greasy snatched him up by the collar and pinned his arms behind his back. "Stupid. Get him, Whip!"

The burly one-Whip from what Flash gathered- pulled out a set of brass knuckles and slid them onto his fingers. The young boy started screaming and thrashing, trying his best to break the grip that the older one had him in. Flash had seen enough. One wrong hit with those and this kid could end up dead.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" she shouted, her voice a roar, echoing throughout the small space. She stomped her way toward the three of them, her anger solidifying with every step she took, until she was practically nose to nose with Whip.

Whip glanced over at Greasy and let out a deep belly laugh. "You see this, Taper? Little girl wants to stick her nose somewhere it doesn't belong." He gave her a menacing smile, stepping forward slightly. "Beat it, this doesn't concern you."

Flash gritted her teeth and glared up at him. "Except it does concern me. Two against one hardly seems fair. Add brass knuckles and the size of this little kid into the mix and you got yourself a run-of-the-mill beat down. Gotta even the odds. I suggest you let him go before I make your chances of walking your way out of this fight slim to none."

Taper laughed this time and held the boy's arms even tighter to combat the way he was struggling. This kid was a fighter, Flash would give him that. "I don't know who you think you are, but you definitely don't scare us. Run along before we make you regret coming up to us. We aren't above soaking a-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence before Flash whirled around and knocked his legs out from under him with a quickness that made her head spin. He buckled and let go of the kid, throwing his arms out to try and catch himself while Flash tried to gain back her equilibrium.

"You little bitch," Whip yelled and lunged at her, taking a swing. She ducked out of his reach and slammed her fist into the side of his face. She felt her pointer finger knuckle pop but she didn't care. He was stunned for a second and Flash smiled a little to herself. She didn't look like much but her years of being picked on and schoolyard fights had taught her how to carry herself.

Her victory was short lived. She felt a hard blow to the side of her mouth and she could taste the blood as it poured over her teeth. She spit and saw red on the grey cobblestone. Another blow came down, this time connecting to her stomach and her breath was gone. She crouched slightly, trying to pull in air and she could hear the two boys laughing. This made her angry.

Flash grabbed a board that was laying by her feet and swung, but they had predicted this. Taper grabbed it from her and counter attacked, hitting her in the leg with it. It must have had a nail or something sharp in it because she could feel a burning sensation and more blood coming from her calf where he had hit. He went to hit her again, but she saw it coming and jerked her body out of the way. He missed and got the board caught up in-between the rungs of a fire escape ladder.

She used this opportunity to run towards him and threw all her weight on him, knocking the board out of his hand and slamming him into the brick wall. He stumbled and lost his footing, tumbling to the ground and Flash pounced on top of him. She grabbed a hand full of his hair and began smashing his head into the cobblestone, cursing him with every hit.

"I... told...you...to...walk...away...and... you...didn't...listen...you...grimy...piece of..."

A hard blow landed to the side of her head and it blurred her vision and stunned her just long enough for Taper to grab a broken piece of glass and jam it into her shoulder. She let out a grunt and grabbed him by the ears this time, slamming harder than before. "You absolute piece of dog shit! You're making me bleed on my favorite shirt!"

"Hey, stop! Stop! Get off of him you fucking lunatic!" Whip roared. He grabbed Flash by the middle and yanked her off of Taper. She clawed at his hands, trying to get back to him. Whip held her up against the wall, one hand on her chest and the other on her throat. "Taper, get up, let's go! We'll get money some other way. She's fucking crazy."

Taper stood up and staggered his way to the end of the alley, clutching the back of his head. Flash could see that his hair was stuck and matted and could only assume he was bleeding too.

Whip kept his eyes trained on her for what seemed like forever before smirking and letting her go. She buckled at the weight of her own body on her messed-up leg, falling into a sitting position. She watched as Whip turned to follow Taper muttering something under his breath. She didn't speak until they were out of eyesight.

"You can come out now."

The boy peaked his head out from around a large empty keg, his red hair sticking up under the sides of his newsboy cap. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were darting around, making sure that there was no more danger.

"You alright?" She asked him. "Come here, let me get a look at you."

He slowly crept his way out of his hiding spot, sidling up next to her on the ground. She gazed at him, taking in the sight of his face. He had a small scrape on the left side down by his lip, but other than that, he seemed generally unharmed.

"Don't ever let someone corner you like again. These streets are rough," she managed to squeeze out. "You have to... stay vigilant. Always be aware of your surroundings. And if someone is chasing you, never ever run into a quiet place. Or a place that isn't well populated. You run like hell to somewhere with a lot of people. And you make as much noise as you can. You want to be heard. Do you understand?" She paused and looked at the boy again, waiting for an answer.

He was quiet and then slowly nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, I understand." He was silent again for a bit before reaching out his hand and offering it to her. "I'm... I'm Robert. Thank you."

She gave him a small smile before taking his hand and shaking it. "Hey Robert, I'm Flash. It's a shame we had to meet under such... grim and troubling circumstances. Where are you staying at?"

"I'm about two blocks over. On Haggerty. I live there with my mom. I... I've been trying to make money to help her take care of my little sister. Those guys were going to take everything I made today..." Robert trailed off.

Flash stood up and winced. Those no-good shitheads really did a number on her. She was still seeing stars. Flash reached down to Robert and gave him her hand to pull him to his feet.

He hesitated, glancing at her leg before letting her pull him up. "You're um... well your leg is kind of bleeding." He stammered, gesturing towards her calf.

Flash bent down and examined it. The gash was pretty deep. It would probably need stitches, but she didn't have anything on hand at the moment. "So it is. Well that won't do. That won't do at all," she sighed, grabbing a hold of her sleeve and ripping a piece off, tying it around the wound. The shirt was ruined anyways. She wouldn't be able to wear it again if she wanted to.

"Let me walk you home," she said clearing her throat.

Racetrack ambled his way up the stairs to the second floor of the lodging house, his feet sore from the walk. He usually could find a wagon to hitch on the back of to make the journey shorter, but no such luck today. Seemed about right. Really matched the luck he had with the ponies. He wanted to fill a bucket up with some ice and soak his feet. His dogs were barking.

He reached the top of the staircase and went to the supply closet to dig around for the pail that Kloppman kept in there when the sound of low cursing caught his attention. Looking behind him, he spotted Flash under the windowsill on the floor, holding a damp cloth to a rip in her pants leg.

"What happened to you? Trip over your feet while reading and walking again?" he started to let out a chuckle but caught a glimpse of her face. She had dry blood caked on the corners of her mouth. A knot was steady raising on her left temple and she had blood on her left shoulder. A mark on her face was blossoming into what Race could only recognize as the start of a fairly nasty bruise, the edges folding out like some sort of ugly purple flower. "Whoa seriously, what the fuck happened? You look... well you look awful." His eyebrows shot up halfway into his hair as he shuffled towards her.

"Ah. Race. Didn't expect you to be up here. Had a bit of a tussle, you see. Fucked up my nicest shirt," she winced, gesturing toward her torso with her left hand. "Do me a favor will ya? Find me some thread. And a needle?"

It took Race a second to process what she said before he trotted over to a small chest that Kloppman kept on top of an end table. He dug around in it, pulling out the only thread he could find and a pack of needles. "All I could find was this brown thread. Will that work?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm not making a dress, am I?" She chuckled and then winced again. "Toss them here."

Race went back over to her and placed them in her outstretched hand. He kneeled down next to her to get a better look at the rag she was clutching against her calf. "What did they do, pull a blade on you?" he tutted.

"A board," she mumbled, taking the cloth off her to exposed a gash. "I think it had a nail or something in it. Maybe a sharp chunk of wood. I dunno. Got me pretty good. Nothing I can't fix though." She took out one of the needles, threaded it and held it in between her lips as she peeled her pants leg up. Clamping the gash together with her pointer finger and thumb, she took the needle out of her mouth and pushed it through her skin, forming a stitch.

Racetrack felt his stomach turn and he shifted his eyes back up to her face. Her eye was starting to swell a bit, her eyelid pulling tight over one olive-colored iris "You need ice on that goose egg sprouting on the side of your head. Gimme a minute, I'll be right back."

"I can assure you; I won't be going anywhere. You'd be able to catch me if I tried," she called out to him. She pushed the needle through again, holding back the prickling she felt behind her eyes. She'd done this many times. The formation of tears was just a reflex. She finished up the stitching before Racetrack had made it back. Flash pulled down her shirt a bit to get a look at the wound on her shoulder. It was superficial at most, hardly deep at all. But man did it bleed a lot. She was picking out the leftover shards of glass when Racetrack came barreling back up the stairs, a makeshift icepack in his hand.

"Here," he said, setting it down on the floor beside her. "Get that on there now."

"Sit down, Pony boy. I won't bite. Not hard at least," she smirked, patting the spot next to her. "You missed the rest of the good part."

Racetrack sat down begrudgingly and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and took a drag before he offered it to her.

"Thanks. But you're gonna have to hold it to my mouth. Don't wanna get my blood on it."

He held it to her mouth, his fingers grazing over her lips slightly. She nodded when she was done and he let his arm find its way back to his lap. "So, how did this come to fruition? Who made you look like that?" He could hear the concern creeping into his voice and he silently cursed himself.

"These two guys were messing with this little kid. I tried to be a hero."

"Serves you right. You should've just left it alone."

"Yeah, well I didn't." she snapped. She was quiet for minute before speaking again, her tone changing. "I couldn't really. Didn't have it in me."

Racetrack scooted so his back was parallel to hers and rested up against the wall. He took in another sharp drag and let the smoke roll from his lips. Moments like this were hard to come by with Flash. They were never serious with each other, their conversation usually oozing with sarcasm and a touch of annoyance. But this time he felt like he was on the cusp of learning something real. He just had to push a little harder.

"And why is that? You didn't know that kid. And you paid a price for sticking your nose in it."

Flash took a side glance at him and sighed, wincing a little as she did. "That kid reminded me of myself. When I was younger... Well, I'm not going into the nitty gritty of it all. And I'm not looking to tell a sob story. Let's just say, I didn't really have the best time growing up. There was a lot I had to learn by the time I hit my eighth birthday. Self-defense being a main thing. And constant vigilance. The only person I had to help me was Trooper. And he could only do so much. I wanted to help that kid because... I didn't know if he had someone out there. I didn't know if he had his own Trooper to look out for him." She cleared her throat, messing with the hem of her shirt. She pulled it off in one fluid motion and tossed it across the room. Grabbing the damp rag, she began cleaning the cut on her shoulder.

Racetrack tried to maintain her modesty and grabbed at another piece of cloth, busying himself with cleaning the crusted blood from one side of her face. He couldn't help but to steal tentative glances at all the scars that had come uncovered along her shoulders and back, some thin and some drastically thicker. They were pink against her stark skin and Race had to bite down on his bottom lip to avoid audibly gasping. He felt her body tense and then still under his sudden touch before she took in a breath and forced herself to relax. He wasn't sure what caused all of these marks, but he knew better than to pry. He could tell that he had reached his limit of information for now. But whatever it was, it definitely wasn't good. And some pieces about Flash were starting to fall into place.

"You don't have to do that, you know," she mumbled as he wiped the corner of her lip. "I can clean myself up. I've done it before."

Racetrack cleared his throat quietly. "Yeah. I know I don't have to." He tried to think of something witty to say but he was drawing a blank. But Flash seemed to accept that answer well enough because she shrugged slightly and went back to doing what she started. They had formed some kind of unspoken agreement between the two of them. One where they don't push too hard and just accept things at face value. "I'm gonna go get some more water for these rags. We're gonna need it."

Flash watched Racetrack stand up and walk out the door, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. Maybe he didn't hate her nearly as much as she thought after all.