Chronograde

Chapter 2 - Years

That night Vim did not come back. Suli lay curled in a swath of rags she'd taken off a clothesline next to Mouse, who was sound asleep with a thumb jammed in her mouth. She was wide awake, unable to wipe the image of Vim's face from her memory. She stared through the pieces of scrap that composed the ceiling, gazing at the twinkling stars above. It always made her feel like a trapped animal, stuck living here when there was so much more to the world.

Mouse shifted beside her, sighing in her sleep. She nuzzled up against Suli's shoulder for warmth. Suli remembered when she'd found the little girl, hiding beneath the bridge over the Slough, mud up to her shins, picking through the bank for shells. She'd been emaciated and near death. She'd been a mute with no name, just another bastard left to the wolves when Suli had found her. Now the younger girl looked up to Suli as a sister. Countless times Suli had protected her, fed her, taught her. Small as a mouse, she was so innocent and pure.

Suli could see the cruelty of the world seeping into the young girl, however, in the way she distrusted mostly everyone and feared everything. The girl never left her side or Vim's. Suli herself had learned the evils of life early on, but she'd tried to keep Mouse from experiencing most of it. She'd tried to shield the girl from the more horrific truths in the life of a gutter rat.

Still, there'd been moments of pain, like when some older boys cornered Mouse and decided to string fishhooks through her cheek, or the time she fell deathly ill and almost died from a simple cold. For the most part , Suli had been able to help her avoid violence. Vim, on the other hand... Vim she could not protect. He was always doing something he shouldn't, getting into trouble, starting fights-- losing fights. He was always trying to prove himself one way or another. Raul didn't like him for that-- Vim was way too smart to control, more ambitious than any regular pismire who'd had his hope beaten from him. Suli didn't know how, but Vim always knew thing-- how to handle anything.

She'd met him once she joined the Shavers. He'd been there two years before she joined out of necessity, when she couldn't find food for herself anymore. She'd been picked on badly by the other gangers who'd made fun of her because of her stutter. Vim, who'd been outcasted himself, immediately came to her rescue, and ever since then she had been loyal to him. Except today.

Suli shifted uneasily. It was getting colder, and Suli knew that if they kept missing their gang dues they'd be out on the streets come winter. The cold did not bother her as much as what would happen to Vim. The cold she could, and had, survived. But without Vim? She'd be lost.

She couldn't let Raul get to him, she knew what he'd do. He was bigger and stronger than all of them, and had twice beat children to death for disobeying him. She didn't know how old he was, but she guessed he could be eighteen. He ran the Shavers brutally and without mercy. Their dues went towards his food, beer, and prostitutes. The only thing he gave was protection and a place to sleep in the winter. His cronies made sure people kept paying. With Vim acting the way he had, Raul would not go easy. Vim would be made an example.

Suli sat up slowly, letting Mouse slide gently to the floor. She gathered her sweater about her, slung her worn old satchel over a shoulder, and crawled through the flap of the shanty house, emerging into the crisp night air. Shivering, she used the light of the moon to navigate the familiar streets, running silently through the alleys past darkened windows and locked doors. Many of these could easily be broken into, but she was well aware of how many slept within. These would not be easy to navigate. At any rate, she would probably find nothing to steal in the row houses, whose tenants were as poor and destitute as she. No, she was travelling north to the wealthier district, where the spoils would be more worthwhile.

It was very dangerous as that area was guarded. But, if she had any chance at finding enough to cover dues, it would be found there.

She crossed the makeshift domiciles and passed through uneven streets with ease until she came upon a change in scenery-- the houses, though lopsided and undignified, were now made of more permanent materials, spaced out in even intervals. The roads were better kept here, and she slowed her pace as she studied each building in turn. One building, which looked as if it were some kind of shop, had heavily barred windows and doors. She passed it, scanning for anything-- an open window, crawlspace, or cellar-- but found that security was tighter. Chains and padlocks secured every door and shed, tarps were pulled over carts, and once she passed a large dog that raised its head in alert, growling softly. People tended to protect their things when they actually had them.