Steel Flight [Completed]

Chapter 2: Skai

~Skai

"Get out, you filthy beggar!"

This was the third time that morning, and I refused to be beaten so easily this time.

"Not until you give me the stale bread you promised." I'd already paid the three copper oblums we'd agreed on. Of course, I could always just take them back, but my stomach was growling and I was going to eat breakfast for once.

"Oh, you think you deserve even my stale bread? Ha!" She took a swing at me (as I ducked I slipped my coppers from her pouch) and threw the bag of bread into the small dumpster.

I took a running leap, landed right next to it, snatched it up, and bolted away before anyone could nab me. Several attempted to block my path, having heard the commotion, but they just served to make my getaway clean. I could never have chosen a more extensive blockade, after all.

Rietta could be heard yelling, "Help! Help! Thief!" up to five minutes' walk away. On a good day she could also often be heard to explain that she only yelled to avoid severe stress. I wasn't sure she understood how it worked.

As I raced away, dodging around people, trash cans, and Cars whooshing by with hardly a glance my way, I caught sight of Madame P.'s Limousine silently gliding through the streets. And judging from the darkened view I got of the interior, she had a new victim. Another poor, foolish kid. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop to ponder on their unfortunate situation, much less risk warning them. This bread wasn't going to eat itself, and admittedly if it could, that would be further motivation, as I intended to do all of the eating.

I took a few turns from the bustling Important People, and found a nice and quiet alley. There, I finally sank to the ground and answered my stomach's pleas. I would liked to have swallowed the loaf whole, but only allowed myself a few bites. If I didn't ration the little I obtained, I would be out here every day, always looking for an extra bite to eat. Still, my body wasn't satisfied with that explanation. My fingers twitched toward the opening of the bag, but I pointedly dropped my hand back to my lap and instead focused on studying my boots. In some places the aluminum gray leather was practically worn white, in others almost black from the dirt and dust I carried with me.

No one noticed my shoes, however, when the rest of me was present. Wildly tangled long hair; unbelievably filthy tunic, belt, and skinny jeans. You get the picture. Beggar wasn't exactly an exaggeration, much as I wished it could be. I owned so little, everything except my newly obtained bread and molding, holey blanket fit inside my boots.

I imagined even life as a thief would be better. Thieves didn't have to beg for stale bread or snatch it from the garbage. They could knick one of those fresh loaves, still warm, with butter melting into it. Though frankly, I was new to this lifestyle, and considered it an accomplishment to be able to steal even a few coins.

With a sigh, I pushed myself up and started walking. This was no place to relax. I'd eaten my breakfast, and now I needed to get back.

When I made it back to the crowded streets, I felt a little flutter in my nearly empty stomach, but forced myself to walk confidently beside the others.

We passed a tall business building and I casually glanced up. My feet hesitated an instant as panic slammed through me. A man was leaning against the building's reflective doors, arms folded, intense dark eyes staring straight at me.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, I told myself. One of the most important lessons I had learned on the streets of Juxtaposition was to stay calm and act confident. It. . . it was probably nothing.

I unclenched my hands. Act natural. I turned down a street. Went along this one longer than I usually would. My heartbeat drowned out all the sounds of traffic. I fought to relax my shoulders, to breathe more deeply, to slow my step. I was starting to get looks. Not, I might add, the usual raised eyebrows and mouths twisted in disgust. These looks meant I was attracting interest. And not the good kind either.

Why was I so panicked? So a guy was looking at me. That didn't mean-

Steel. Were those sirens I heard? Coming my way? At this point I decided to scrap the reasonable approach and run.

"There she is!"

I vaulted over a chain link fence and sidestepped between two buildings into a narrow alley. Howlers were beeping excitedly now. They were hot on my tail.

"C'mon Skai," I muttered to myself. I'd been chased before. They'd never caught me. This one was a close call, but there was still no way I'd mess it up.

I rounded a corner and my eyes lit up at my favorite shortcut: Peb Cottle's Complimentary Footwear. The owner wasn't too bad a guy himself. (Where else would I have gotten the boots?)

I wrenched the door open and shot into the room- right into the waiting arms of the Head of Police. The remaining bread thudded to the floor.

"Well, well, well," Henry rumbled quietly. "What do we have here?"

Peb and Henry's deputy were in the next room over. Peb wasn't looking at me, but even from where I stood I could see the guilt in his eyes and in his shaking hands. I felt a surge of emotion. I wanted to be angry at Peb for selling me out, but I knew what a few extra druples in his pocket would mean to him. However, that didn't stop me from being angry at Henry. I stomped the heel of my boot where his foot met his leg and ground it down. He shouted and let me go, but before I could move more than half a step, he grabbed my arm and other police officers filed into the shop, moving to surround me.

"Oh no you don't," he growled in my ear. "Not this time."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comment below: what did you like? Dislike? Who's your favorite character so far? I'd love to hear from you!