|
Post by Eragon on Apr 10, 2013 16:57:58 GMT -5
A short nine-year old sat seated in a small room at a table with a few pistols spread out on it. Her curly black hair tumbled around her face as she carefully cleaned the one in her hands, checking to make sure it was in perfect condition for the next time it would be used. She smiled slightly to herself running a fingertip over the cold, hard metal. There was something about weapons that spoke to her, like they were old friends, irresistibly begging her to play with them.
The door opened to reveal a burly black boy of about fourteen step in. "Hey Jackster," he smirked.
"Hi Will," she said. "How did it go?"
"Fine," he said with a shrug. "Group meeting are pretty boring though."
"I wish I could go to one," she sighed.
"Eh trust me you aren't missing much."
She shrugged and glanced back at the gun in her hands.
He pulled a little present out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Got you something," he said.
She looked at him and smiled slightly, "Thanks."
"Open it," he commanded.
Jackie opened it and pulled out a pretty silver-looking hair clip that he could've picked up at a pharmacy store. "Hey it looks like it will be able to actually handle my curls!" she smiled slightly.
He coughed slightly to hide a smile, "Yep. So what've you got over here?" he said gesturing at the pistols.
They went on talking about guns awhile after that, and he gave her some pointers with the enthusiasm only an Ares kid could have on the subject.
------------------------------------------
A seventeen year-old Jackie shook herself as she looked at the familiar section of Chicago where she spent the first eleven years if her life. The gang had fallen to shambles and been locked up, killed or anything else in the six years she'd been gone. She sighed and watched her breath appear and disappear in the cold air. That was a long time ago, before things went bad. Before she found out the hard way that the individual member wasn't as important as the group when business teetered on the line. That was back when the world was a lot simpler and she was a world more naive.
|
|
|
Post by Eragon on Apr 15, 2013 16:08:49 GMT -5
She sighed and shook her head rubbing her temples, trying to stop the rush of memories that she knew would soon follow, or lessen the throbbing in her head. They came in a jagged spree, like a slideshow, only far more rapid. It was impossible for her to think about Will and not recall these somehow.
Jackie sat on her cot in the small storage room in the basement of the small run-down warehouse. It wasn't publicly HQ, just the place most of the goods were stored. The room was just big enough for her miniature cot and a three-drawer side dresser that held everything she owned.
Will burst into her room suddenly and closed the door quickly and silently. He had a furitive, stressed look about him that she was completely unaccustomed to. "We need to go. Now," he said pressing his ear against the door. "Now, Jackie!" he hissed when she still hadn't moved from her spot. "Get some cash and a jacket, there's no time for anything else!"
She jumped up immediately and pulled on a heavier jacket grabbing a wad of saved cash from a slit she had cut in her mattress. "What's going on--" she started to ask but he cut her off throwing a hand over her mouth.
"Shh," he hissed harshly. She gave him a weird look. "I'll tell you on the way, but right now you have got to trust me and do whatever I tell you."
She nodded. Will opened the door and made a quick check down both ends of the hallway before going out and motioning for her to follow him. She walked quickly trying to keep even with his hurrried pace.
"So here's what's happenin," he whispered near her ear as they walked, heading for one of the lesser used exits. "Apparently there was a meeting this morning, but no one gave me the memo. So I listened in, and good thing I did. They can't pay the next shipment. Those bastards are demanding higher than they orginally told us. If the gang doesn't find a way to pay, we're all good as dead." She nodded, "So why do we have to leave?"
"Because you're the payment they're willing to accept," he replied looking at her and then suddenly pulled her further into the shadows with him when footsteps were heard on the metal catwalks overhead. Jackie swallowed feeling her heart stop beating for a full three seconds. "What?" she whispered weakly once it was safe to resume their nearly inaudible communication, her face turning pale, even for her complexion. "But don't they also deal in--"
"Yeah," he whispered cutting her off. "And that's why we've got to go, before they figure out that we're both not in our usual places."
"But don't they usually go after people a little older than me?" she replied, trying to convince herself this couldn't be happening. She had been running with them for four years. They wouldn't just turn her out like that.
"It's called child abuse and they'll do anything to get what they want. The traitors in there are just trying to save their own #%*^ skins," he muttered anger creeping into his voice and giving his eyes a violent glint.
|
|
|
Post by Eragon on May 1, 2013 16:45:08 GMT -5
He waited a few moments before pulling her out and towards the back exit. Ed emerged from the dark corner and blocked the door. "I'm sorry Will, but you know what we have to do." Sweat beaded on his forehead and he wiped his hands on his pants without looking at Jackie. "It ain't my choice." Jackie moved closer to Will.
"Ed. You're my friend, please don't make me do this." Will looked at him with an unwavering gaze. "This is the Jackster we're talking about. And you know I'd die before I let anything happen to her." Ed pulled at the collar of his shirt nervously.
"Look dude if there were any other way . . . "
"Count of three Ed, or I make you move out of the way. One." Ed glanced around furitively for help out of the situation.
"Two."
"C'mon dude we've got no other choice . . . "
"Last chance Ed. Move." Will paused and just as he was about to say 'three' and spring into action, Ed let out a shrill whistle and immediately they were surrounded by three other gang members. He looked apologetically at his friend in response to the betrayed look on Will's face. The members all seemed reluctant to carry out their instructions, but determined to do it anyways.
"So this is what it becomes, does it?" Will pivoted around and looked individually at all of them. Ed shuffled his feet, but when it was apparent that no one would give way, Will attacked the nearest person. The others joined in and had Will overpowered in quick succession. Ed grabbed Jackie before she could slip away during the schuffle.
|
|
|
Post by Eragon on May 21, 2013 13:07:22 GMT -5
One of them had Will pinned down on the floor, a knee digging into his back. Two of the others grabbed him by the arms and hauled him to his feet when the other got off, blood dripping steadily from his broken nose. "Boss said to bring her back to the meeting room," he said wiping it on his sleeve so he could talk. He gave Will a dirty look, "Him too if he put up a fight."
Will glared at him, getting a punch across the face. "Bastard," he spat grimacing, the pain seeming to go down a hotline from his face to broken rib.
Antonio pulled out a pistol and pointed it at his head. "Watch your ugly mouth Sytes. Ed. Start walking. And Jackie," he locked eyes with her. "Try to break away once and I'll put a bullet through his head."
Jackie nodded slightly to show that she understood and reluctantly let Ed start to drag her away.
"Let her walk with me," Will said abruptly. "You'll still have me covered with the gun and we're surrounded, so what's the harm?" The guys holding his arms looked at Antonio for guidance. He clenched his teeth and a vein throbbed in his neck but after a few moments he shrugged like it was not a big deal, "Fine."
Ed let go of her and she ran over to Will who put an arm around her once his captors let go of him. She stuck close to his side, slight tremors shaking her shoulders.
"No funny business," Antonio said keeping the pistol pointed at Will. "Start walking." They started walking with gang members to the front and sides of them, Antonio bringing up the rear with his gun. Soon they arrived at the meeting room, though it seemed to go on like an endless march for Jackie.
They all stepped away from the two of them once the gang lord stood up from his chair. "So Will, you thought you would go your own way did you?"
Will kept his face expressionless.
"Or maybe you forgot the first rule of being a member of the gang. You are loyal to me above everything, and never disobey an order--or suffer death." He got up in his face, obviously trying to provoke him. "What? Your puppy dog sister meant that much to you? Aw, looks like someone's gone soft," he sneered. He smirked with pleasure at Will's clenched jaw. "Well. You can say goodbye now."
Jackie stiffened, but Will seemed to have been expecting it, because no surprise showed on his face. She looked up at him, eyes wide. He pulled her close and hugged her, not letting her see him grimace when she hugged him back tightly. He kissed the top of her head, not caring what anyone else thought. He wasn't ever going to get to do it again.
"I'm scared Will," she whispered in his ear.
"I know," he whispered back in a choked voice holding her tighter. "I know Jackster, and I'm sorry." She clung to him trying not to cry.
"Time's up," the gang leader said impatiently. "Get off of him Jackie." She held onto him tighter and Antonio hooked his hands underneath her arms and forced her off of him, struggling madly. The gang lord pulled out a gun and pointed it at Will's forehead. "Let this be a lesson to anyone else who wants to disobey me," he said looking around the room at all the faces significantly. Jackie was nearly in hysterics, and Antonio had his hands full keeping her under control.
The significantly loud crack of the pistol rang through the room and the last thing Jackie remembered was screaming and crying looking at Will's lifeless body before someone jabbed a sedative in her arm.
|
|
|
Post by Eragon on Jul 12, 2013 22:11:33 GMT -5
Jackie was eleven, sitting on on the bed of the motel room she'd been staying in after she had escaped from that place and made her way to New York City. She still wasn't quite sure how it happened, just that she got a rare opening. Her memory of it was hazy, and try as she might no details would surface to the front of her memory. She checked her phone. Where was he? He was running late, their plane to Heathrow Airport left in an hour and a half, and in the city traffic it would be a push to make it.
With half of the ten grand she had stolen from the safe at the brothel she had hired someone to go along with her and act as her "guardian" since an eleven year old would never be able to get on a plane to the UK by herself. Maybe it was chancing a wild card to go so far, but she just wanted as much of a new start as possible--and her mother had been from Britian, though she had been a US citizen at the time she was born, otherwise she wouldn't have gotten into the US foster care system. At least what she'd heard from someone when she was little. She pulled her fleece on and fingered the handle of her suitcase for what felt like the twelfth time. Finally there was a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole she saw it was him and opened the door.
"Traffic hold up on the way here," he said and closed the door. He handed her a fake ID. "Like we rehearsed, you're my niece whom I'm taking to London to see your grandmother for the first time."
She nodded and he took her suitcase and took it out to the cab and put it in the bag with his. Jackie's eyes flittered everywhere, taking in the construction project across the street, the kid spray painting the stop sign, and the skin-and-bones stray cat poking at an overturned garbage can. Nowadays there was no going anywhere without having her eyes in constant motion--she couldn't help it, it was something she did without thinking. She sighed and looked up at the sky, wondering how many other things about her gave away that she'd been abused. Why couldn't she be normal? When people saw her, was it obvious that she wasn't?
Jackie got in the car and they made it in time for their plane. She leaned back against the seat looking out the window as the world beneath her grew smaller and smaller until it looked like a clay module. She liked the way takeoff made her feel like her stomach was floating. Once they were traveling across nothing but the ocean she pulled the bill of her NY Yankees cap over her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but the background noise kept her awake. What would she do when she got there? What if the authorities got her and sent her back to foster care? 'Oh that's bound to to well,' she thought. 'Once people learn about where I was when I was "missing" for four years they won't want anything to do with me. It's not like I would've gotten a foster family anyway...no one wanted a pantry thief before.'
Her gaze slid over to "Uncle Frank" who was fast asleep. He was in his mid-thirties maybe, with prematurely graying hair. Of all the people she could have hired to do this for her, she was glad it was him. He was likeable and as far as most criminals go, pretty trustworthy.
When they got out of the airport they caught a cab to a motel in a different part of the city, in a denser section where she could blend in better going off by herself for good. "Uncle Frank" closed the door and looked down at her. "You sure you're gonna be ok kid? You said you had some kinda plan."
She shrugged and shoved her hands in her pockets. "I got it."
He raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Look...I just don't know about this anymore. Bad things could happen. To you."
"I'll be fine!" she said her temper suddenly flaring as her cheeks reddened. "I've gotten this far, haven't I? I can take care of myself."
"You're in a foreign country, and eleven."
"What're you gonna do about it," she said in a challenging tone. "You can't send me back."
"I know, I know," he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, momentarily at a loss for what to tell her. "Okay look. I know a friend here, he's a retired teacher. Just check in with him once a week so I know you're ok."
"Why do you care so much? You're not my parent, you can't tell me what to do!" she half-shouted at him, her eyes flashing a glare.
"Stop shouting!" he said quickly. "You'll attract someone's attention." She shut her mouth but the line she set it in said she was still mad.
"I just want to make sure you're not leaping from the frying pan into the fire, all right? Have you thought about where you're going to stay? You can't continue to rent a motel room as a minor." Jackie avoided his gaze.
"I thought so," he sighed. She rubbed at her arm.
"Pretty stupid plan kid," he muttered.
"I could find someone and pay them to let me rent a motel room with them."
"And who are you going to find willing to do that?"
She shrugged, "Another street rat trying to stay under the radar?"
"Fine. Just don't pick some kinda freak, yah got it?"
She nodded, as if she would pick a freakazoid. He gave her the name and address of his friend and looked down at her with mixed feelings. For once he felt bad leaving someone on their own--maybe it was because he could see how scared she was on the inside. How badly she wanted someone to protect her.
"Thanks for helping me," she said handing him the envelope that held the rest of his money, shuffling her feet slightly.
"Take care kid," he said putting the envelope inside his suit jacket and looked at her. "You know how to find me."
|
|
|
Post by Eragon on Jul 24, 2014 17:56:08 GMT -5
The morning after Toby left Jackie headed out onto the streets. She needed to find a heavier coat, and that would cost money. There was a busy cross section at the light down the block so she went and stood with the other pedestrians waiting for the signal. Without anyone noticing she was able to take bills out of wallets while never taking the wallet out of her target's pocket. She walked down the street to a cafe for breakfast with a hollow feeling in her gut. That was the first time she had gone pickpocketing without Will in two years. To the gang, he was just there to keep an eye on her and make sure she did not run or get caught by the police, but she knew he was there to make sure she did not get herself into trouble. If she did he would get her out of it. He actually cared about what happened to her, and that made the difference. 'Big girls don't cry,' she reminded herself blinking rapidly. 'Especially not Ares kids . . . ' It was bad enough that she had bawled her eyes out in front of the gang when Will died. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Exactly a week later Jackie found herself standing at the wrought iron gate of a brick mansion in a wealthy neighborhood of London. A high white wall covered in neatly-trimmed ivy ran the length of the sidewalk. She opened the gate and walked around a low fountain with a tiered centerpiece and ascended the couple of steps to the imposing oak door and hesitated. "Uncle Frank" had paid the rent at the motel in advance for a week (the owners did not pay much attention to the occupants as long as they paid), but now that was up and she realized how impractical her plan of sharing a room with someone over eighteen was. She would probably end up with a druggie or another gang and by this time she realized she was lucky to have spent four years with one and be alive, especially as a kid. "Uncle Frank" was supposed to have called ahead and informed his friend she might stop by once a week. She fidgeted with the strap on her backpack realizing that if she could not figure out what she was going to do after this, she was deep water because she had already cleaned her stuff out of the motel room. Jackie took a deep breath and lifted the handle of the ornate knocker and let it drop. A moment later the door opened to reveal an older man with balding silver hair. He was surprisingly fit for his age, which looked to be his mid-fifties. He wore a rumpled burgundy polo and khakis; his expression bemoaned someone generally bored with life. "You must be Jackie," he said. "Yeah, that's me . . . " she messed with the ends of her ponytail awkwardly. The ponytail looked all right, but it really disguised the fact that she did not know how to best take care of her curly hair. "Excellent," his eyes lit up and he ushered her inside quickly before shutting the door. "Don't mess with your hair like that, it's an awful nervous habit." She immediately put her hands at her sides and tried not to look uncomfortable. He looked her up and down before nodding. "Roger Taney," he introduced himself, putting forth his hand. She shook it. "Jackie McElveen, but I guess you already know that." He shrugged and nodded. "Yes, Toby told me all about you." "What exactly did he tell you?" "Oh, just that you might need a place to stay at the end of the week and that you had a rather deft hand at pickpocketing," he shrugged nonchalantly and put his hands in his pockets. "Come sit down," he said quickly showing her to the living room. It was furnished with new Victorian-styled pieces around a fireplace with a large flatscreen TV over the mantelpiece. Jackie inwardly fumed at Uncle Frank for setting this up but kept her face expressionless. 'I don't need him to babysit me!' the sentence roared in her head but she took a seat in a chair by the fireplace without a word and Roger sat on one end of the couch. There was a pause as he stared at her, apparently lost in thought. "Where are you from?" she asked at last to break the seemingly long silence. "Your accent isn't British." "My accent is somewhat British since I spend a lot of time here. Most people don't notice that it isn't actually British--you have a good ear. Excellent," he said, more to himself than to her. "And to answer your question I am Austrian. My mother married an American, hence the name Taney." She nodded. "Now, to get to the point. When did you start pickpocketing?" "Seven," she replied. "Why do you want to know?" "Well if you're as good as Toby thinks you are I might be able to help you hone your skills. Can you do anything else?" "Umm I can make a small bomb and crack a couple kinds of safes." "A good start," he said drumming his fingers on the arm rest of the couch. "Are you afraid of heights?" "No." He nodded. "Are you reasonably athletic?" She shrugged. "Depends on what you call reasonable but I like to run." "Good, good," he said to himself. "How do you and Uncle Frank--I mean Toby, know each other?" "We used to work together before I retired. He was the hacker, Elaine was the hitter and I was the thief," his voice trailed off and the hard mask of inscrutability returned. "But that was before Elaine died. Now, understand that I will have to kill you if you go to the authorities." "I'm not in the habit of going to the police." "I expected as much." "So you want to teach me how to become a professional thief? If that's what you call it . . . " she trailed off putting her hands in her coat pockets to keep from messing with her hair. "Call it whatever you want," he smiled with amusement. "Do you accept my offer? You can stay here as long as you want and I will teach you all you need to know." Jackie thought it over and eventually nodded. It was not what she had expected, but her resentment towards Toby began to fade when she thought of alternative situations she could be in. "Yeah I'd like that." "Good," he smiled again. "Retirement has gotten very boring very fast. We can start tomorrow and in the meantime you can go put your stuff away and I'll give you the grand tour before dinner."
|
|