All is fair in Love and Strikes (Sprace)

Chapter 23 | Race

TW: REFERENCES BACK TO RACE'S SU1C1D3 ATTEMPT

also enjoy the fluff, we don't get a lot of that 'round here

It'd been a couple weeks since the less than honorable de-throning of Spot Conlon, and as I suspected, his absence from Brooklyn had only made matters worse. Hotshot's command wasn't much of anything, just permission for the boys to run recklessly through the streets of New York. At this point, it may have been considered an overstatement to call it war, just lawlessly raucous and messy brawls on every block corner and alley way. The streets were running red, and as for the press, it might as well have been Christmas for them. More than once I had seen the headlines plastered with the news of the "dangerous savages roaming our beloved streets", and with each name and photograph I recognized, I was filled with a new kind of righteous anger.

It was getting progressively harder to sell. Which, in a way, made sense, as the dangerous low lives the papers warned against were the very boys hawking them. Anyone in their right mind would do well to steer clear. So, the ones that ate the best were the corner stores and the lucky few with trusted regulars. Jack had gotten even stricter on the shared funds of the lodging house, and in true Jack fashion, was even giving up what little he could afford to eat to feed the kids, growing thinner by the day. Davey was coming around less frequently too, and Les had stopped all together. He was kept home by his mother, who, as the rest of the city, caught wind that things were getting treacherous and was set on keeping her boy safe. We'd seen him once since his lock up, only when he'd snuck away rebelliously, determined to be a part of whatever was outside the sheltered bubble his folks wanted him stashed in. He only stayed away when Jack made him swear he'd go home and listen to his parents, and when he saw the damage laid upon his fellow newsboys. Sarah, like Davey, had also been seen around less, and rumors of the potential strain the war had taken upon her, and Jack's relationship were quick to float about. This, and the steady flow of injured brothers were the rumored blame of our leader's increasing irritability and restlessness. However, if you asked me, it was more so the latter. The latter, and the fact that Davey hadn't been by in almost a week. The others didn't realize it, and to be honest, Jack probably didn't either, but Davey was his rock. The only one who could ground him, calm him amongst all the chaos that had ensued since this whole mess began.

Selfishly, I was sort of glad of Spot's removal from power. It had nearly driven me insane not knowing if he was okay, three hours away in Brooklyn. At least with him here, I could keep an eye on him. Unlike Mush and Blink, we understood the danger we'd be in if seen selling together. After all, this whole thing was, in a manner of speaking, our fault. We were targets enough as it was. I wasn't allowed to sell often. I could usually be found inside tending to the injured, kept company by Crutchie, tasked with taking care of the kids. This ugly Thursday however, I was allowed out to work.

It truly was a hideous day. The clouds were dark and heavy, threatening to spill at any minute. Low rumbling from the sky issued an alarm out to any of the few people still wandering the street; get inside or get caught in what was sure to be a harrowing storm.

"Hey, ya think we should start headin' back?" Boots squinted up at the sky, as if trying to make sense of a particularly unique piece of art. "That thing's 'bouta leak more than Skittery when the maya's daughta walks by."

"Yeah," I agreed, "'bout time to head out. Ain't nobody in they'ah right mind would be out in this. Aye, speakin' of leaks, you go ahead. I'mma just take a piss real quick." I gestured to a nearby bush and Boots nodded, turning on his heel in the direction of the lodging house. I scurried over to the bush and looked around, making sure there was no one watching. Who was I kidding? The street was practically empty. I did my business quickly. I didn't want to be caught alone out here. When I finished, I made my way down the sidewalk in the direction of home. I was walking past the entrance to an alley - one I had ducked into many a time in my life for various reasons - and heard voices. Startled, I jumped back behind the wall and peeked around the corner. One was one of Spot's old boys, though I had never bothered to figure out his name. The other I didn't recognize. That's not true. He did look oddly familiar, in a sort of nostalgic way that I couldn't quite pinpoint. He definitely wasn't Brooklyn, that much was certain. Maybe Harlem? Or the Bronx. It unsettled me just how familiar this boy looked without me being able to remember. He was handsome, strikingly so. With messy dark hair and a pointy nose. Though, he did have a nasty shiner on his right eye. He could only have been older than me by just a few years. The two were speaking in hushed whispers, just loud enough for me to make out what they were saying.