Trapped Where There Ain't No Future

13

"A'right, Eva, youse has a point. Why kill da King o' Brooklyn when I can keep 'im instead? From now on Spot Conlon an' his goil ah da slaves o' da Queens newsies."

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How long we spent in the dark basement, I didn't know. It was an awkward, uncomfortable night, with both Spot and I dozing intermittently, neither of us getting a full sleep. We stayed huddled together for warmth, our thin clothes not providing much protection against the cold hard ground.

Eventually neither of us could try to sleep any more, and we sat in silence before Spot said, "We has ta t'ink of a plan. We ain't tied, so we has dat on ouah side, but we dunno wheah we ah oah how ta even get out o' da buildin'."

"Only thing I can think of is jump 'em and run." I said after considering the matter.

"But should we?" Spot asked, shifting next to me.

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I don't want youse ta get hoit, Eva." he mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of my head.

"We can't stay here!" I said. "Besides the obvious, how long d'you think it'll take for Fox ta realize that we're more trouble than we're worth? Feedin' us and all? We has ta be outa here before that happens!"

Spot sighed. "I guess youse right."

"Course I am, Spot, ain't'cha learned that by now?" I smiled, leaning into his arms. "Ise always right."

"Always?" Spot said, and although I couldn't see him I could tell he was raising an eyebrow.

"Always." I said confidently.

"What about when ya thought dat yoah brudda was dead?"

"...fine, not always." I said after a second. That one hit a little close to home. "But I'm right about this."

Spot exhaled. "Prob'ly. Dey took my cane an' slingshot though, so if any o' em have weapons it'll be tough."

"D'you wanna use the knife?" I asked, touching my boot where I had replaced the knife.

"Nah, youse prob'ly bettah wit' it. An' I don' wantcha gettin' hoit, so ya gotta promise me somethin'."

"What?" I asked.

"If you has da chance ta get outta heah, ya take it. A'right? Even if I ain't wit' ya. Ya run as fah as ya can."

I stayed quiet. How could I promise something like that?

"Promise me." Spot said, pulling back so we were facing eachother. Even though it was pitch black in the cellar, I could picture his face perfectly, determination etched into every line of it.

"I promise." I said softly, feeling horrible as I did so.

"Good." Spot drew me to him again, his hand stroking my hair.

"Should we move to the side? So that when Queens opens the door they don't see us right away, an' we can get the jump on 'em." I said after a few minutes.

"A'right." Spot said, and we stood up, shuffling awkwardly to the side a few yards, shuffling our feet so we didn't trip on anything. As we were doing so, the door at the top of the stairs opened. We froze. Fox stood silhouetted against the yellow light, peering down into the blackness, before Stone's outline blotted out Fox's from behind.

"Wheah ah dey?" Fox said, fury in his voice as he descended the stairs. I drew the knife from my boot and looked over at Spot. He motioned for me to follow him as he drew closer to the stairwell, while still remaining hidden in the darkness where the light from the hall did not penetrate.