Blitz: A Newsies Story

Chapter 13: Traitor

((Hey Fansies! Sorry I took such a long hiatus, life has been crazy! In an attempt to make up for it, this new chapter is nice and long. Thank you so much to everyone that commented and voted on the previous chapters, because that really inspired me to take the time to sit down and write some more for all of you! I love you all! Enjoy the new chapter!))

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Chapter 13: Traitor

As we neared the Manhattan World Distribution Center, I could hear familiar voices shouting over the noise of the city.

"Stop the World! No more papes! Stop the World! No more papes!" The shouts of the newsies echoed loudly, causing me to cringe slightly, knowing exactly what I was in for.

"Relax, sweet face," Oscar murmured, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me up the steps that lead to the back door of the distribution center. "We won't let 'em touch ya."

"I don't want you touchin' me," I growled under my breath, shrugging off his hand.

He rolled his eyes, but I couldn't help but notice that both Oscar and Morris had a sort of protective look on their faces. I narrowed my eyes, but could do nothing but follow them into the distribution center.

The center was relatively messy, with old papes piled in the corners, and stacks of today's papes near the window itself. The window had bars spaced every few inches vertically, with gaps near the bottom that allowed for the transfer of money and papes between the newsies and the workers in the distribution center.

Through the barred window, I could see a group of scabs lined up to buy their papes for the day, willing to comply with the raise in the price. Not far off, giving the scabs the dirtiest looks in the world, were my friends. They clustered near the gates, shouting insults and making rather rude gestures. Multiple police officers stood between them and the scabs, holding them back.

Oscar pointed to a stack of papes near the window. "Your job is ta help Morris count the papes foah da newsies, got it?" he said.

I bit back a sharp retort and simply nodded, quickly moving behind the towering stack of papes. I did my best to hide behind the massive pile, hoping the group of newsies outside wouldn't see me, and I was lucky. All eyes were on the scabs at the window, not on me. I let out a sigh of relief and glanced at the day's headline.

"Trolley Strike Broken" glared up at me from the front page. "Fabulous," I grumbled, "Anotha stinky headline."

"Tell me 'bout it," growled a familiar voice. I looked up and found a face I knew well staring hopelessly at me through the bars of the window.

"Jack," I choked out, "there was nothin' I could do, I," I said, starting to defend myself and why I was here, dressed the way I was. Then I stopped. "Jack," I whispered, realizing why he hadn't started accusing me of being a scab. He looked as much like a scab as I did.

"Got ya too, did they," I murmured with a sigh. Jack was dressed in the nicest clothes he had ever had to his name. His hair was combed, his face washed, the whole deal. He just stared at me forlornly, and nodded. "I couldn't put those boys in danger because 'a me 'n my big ideas no more," he mumbled, avoiding my eyes now.

I nodded. "It's gonna be okay, Jacky Boy," I whispered, counting out one hundred papes for him and holding them out.

It was then that Oscar and Morris came up, Morris snatching the papes from my hand. "Thanks, Princess!" He said cheerfully, a fake grin plastered on his face. "There ya go, Cowboy," he then said, still grinning, and shoved the papes at Jack through the window.