Cross My Heart

A Change of Scenery(13)

I had no one.
Nobody. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Goose egg.
I had no where to go. No where to be. Nothing.
And I didn't want to think about why. Not now. I just needed to find someone. Somewhere. Something.
***
I awoke in a wagon, the sun streaming partly on my face, the smell of alcohol significant. Also, on a more important note, my arms and legs were bound and I had a gag in my mouth. After a short investigation of wear the sun was streaming from, I promptly realized that I was not in New York City anymore, and instead in a covered wagon in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. That was when I started to freak out. Where the heck am I?
Anthony's POV
I woke to the sound of the lounging house door slamming open. That can't be good. Then I heard the stomping gate that could only belong to the king of Brooklyn. That's never good.
"What's going on?" I groan from my bunk, sitting upright.
"It's Melody. She wasn't in her bunk this morning."
What the hell?
"Where is she?!?" I ask-shouted, scrambling down from the top bunk. I saw Crutchie doing the same thing. He looked as though he was hiding something.
"How am I supposed to know!?!" Spot countered.
I walked over to him, raising my fist. I probably would have punched him if I hadn't been yanked back by the collar.
"What's going on in here?" Jack asked, his face calm. He dropped the neutral act as soon as Spot told him what happened.
"How?!?!" Jack shouted, glaring at Spot. "She was with you!! She was supposed to be safe!!"
Crutchie looked down at the ground, his eyes brimming with tears. "She snuck out to see me last night..."
"She WHAT?!?!?!" I screeched, storming over to Crutchie. Jack cut me off.
"Look, killing each other won't help anything." He face Crutchie, eyes narrowing. "When?" He asked bluntly.
"Around two in the morning." Crutchie answered quietly, almost in a whisper. Tears were flowing from his eyes freely now. That was four hours ago. She could be out of state by now.
"Forgive me," Spot butted in. "Why did she have to stay at Brooklyn anyway?"
It was a long story.
Melody's POV
I heard my father's voice speak in a low, drunken tone. We were stopping a town. This might be my only chance for escape. As silently as possible, I scooted myself over to a broken liquor bottle and grabbed a shard of glass, wincing as it cut into my hand. I rocked the glass back and forth until I had cut my hands free. I then untied my legs and took out the gag in my mouth. Using the strips of cloth as bandages, I treated my bleeding hands to the best of my ability. Now, I wait.