Just a warning, there will be some mention of blood and abuse in this chapter. Just thought I'd warn y'all if you can't read about that kinda thing. Hold on tight, cause this chapter is a doozy.
I cracked my eyes open, wincing in pain as I examined my surroundings, noticing that I was positioned in the corner of a dark room. There was a faint light coming from a window, one too high up for it to be of any use for an escape, signifying that it was just past supper time. The room was completely void of anything other than me, a single table that was pressed up against one of the walls, and a tall door that was probably locked.
"What if she's not awake yet?" I heard a voice ask from the other side of the door.
"If she's not then we'll wake her," another voice replied. I could hear the noise of a key turning and the faint click as the door was unlocked. It was thrown open, flooding the room with light and temporarily blinding me.
"Morning Sunshine," a voice belonging to one of the men who had kidnapped me said. Maybe if I don't say anything they'll go away, I thought wistfully. The larger of the two of them grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me to my feet. He wrapped a rope tightly around my wrists, his gaze boring into me. So much for them going away. I nearly laughed out loud. That hit to the head must have done a lot of damage.
"We've got some questions ya need to answer girlie."
"Sorry, I's not very good at math," I coughed out, my voice raw from lack of hydration.
"Yous best be watching your mouth, we're the ones in control here."
"Oh I'm sure yas are." He brought his hand up to hit me, but before it made contact with my cheek, the second man grabbed his arm.
"Not yet, Marcus. He told us to bring her unharmed."
"Was knocking me out part of that 'unharmed?'" I asked. The man, Marcus, growled at me.
"Shut ya mouth girl. Let's just go." He dragged me behind him, pulling me through the door and down an equally dark hallway. We passed two doors, both of which were shut, before reaching a large staircase. Marcus didn't falter as he made his way to the top of the stairs where a looming door greeted us. He rapped his knuckles against it and after receiving a shout from inside, he opened the door and shoved me in.
I came face to face with none other than Snyder the Spider.
I probably should have said something, shown him that I wasn't afraid of him or what he could do to me, but I couldn't get past the overwhelming shock of seeing him in any other place than a jail cell. So I stood there, my mouth agape, in complete silence.
"Sit," he demanded, gesturing to one of the chairs that stood behind a desk. There was another chair across from it that he sat down in. When I made no move to do as he had commanded, Marcus pulled the chair back from the desk and thrust me into it.
"Are we having tea? I didn't bring my nice clothes. Oh well," I shrugged.
"Far from it young lady." He pulled a file from out of a bag that sat on the floor beside him. "You have information I need, and you'll give me the answers I'm lookin' for." I didn't really know how to reply so I didn't.
"First question. Where is Mr. Jack Kelly?" Snyder asked.
"In this current moment? Probably telling Crutchie about Santa Fe. Jack's always given that boy too much hope." The snapping of a whip behind me made me whirl around in my seat.
"Miss. Higgins, I'm not playing a game like you're so determined ta think I am. Answer the question and I'll let you leave with minor injuries. Continue on the path you're going down, and I can promise that things will be a lot less pretty." My gaze stayed fixated on the whip in Marcus' hand.
"And why would ya think for a moment that I'd sell my friends out just to save myself?" I asked. It took everything in me not to lose control of my voice and let loose the tremble that wanted so badly to make its way out into the open.
"I'm trying to be civil here, but if you're so determined to ignore it, then I will as well."
"You call beating kids so bad that they die civil?" I shouted at him. "Letting them die of starvation? Allowing them no clean water or supplies to heal their wound, which might I add were all inflicted by you? That's not civility. You might need to find yourself dictionary."
"Marcus," Snyder said, gesturing at me. The man grabbed my collar, pulled me to my feet, and slammed me against the wall.
"I'll ask again, where is Jack Kelly?"
"Santa Fe for all I care," I gasped out. That earned me one strike from the whip. Marcus looked sickeningly pleased when he saw me wince in pain.
"Wrong answer."
"Why don't you go find out for yourself? He's probably somewhere on the streets. He does live in New York." Two strikes.
"How did you win the strike."
"Ooh, an easy one." One strike. I felt a trail of warm, sticky blood slowly drip down my arm. "The governor convinced Pulitzer to half the price raise. I think Jack got him to add him buying back our loses."
"How did Crutchie get polio?"
"Your obsession with us Newsies seems a little unhealthy." That one got me three strikes. I gasped in pain. "I have no clue. He doesn't like talking about it."
"How many of the Newsies have been to the Refuge?"
"I don't know." One strike. "No one talks about the Refuge. Those aren't the best memories."
"Albert DaSilva has a sister, am I correct?" I froze. One strike. Apparently I was silent for too long.
"What does that matter?" Two strikes. I groaned. Everything hurt. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Blood flowed from numerous cuts the whip had left on my body and the room was beginning to spin. The bruises on my torso ached, and there was a ringing coming from somewhere in my head.
"Answer the question," Marcus jeered.
"Had."
"What?" Snyder asked, his head shooting up.
"Are you deaf?" One strike. And a fist to my cheek. That wouldn't leave a pretty bruise. "You killed her. Don't ya remember? With all your talk of civility, the least you could have done was keep a record of all the kids you mercilessly murdered." Three strikes. I couldn't hold on for much longer.
"Interesting," Snyder mumbled. "Who is Samantha?"
"Samantha, what? I don't know a Samantha." One strike. Now I'm sure he's just hitting me every time I open my mouth. Snyder retrieved another file from his bag.
"We'll come back to that one." I sighed.
"I don't know any Samantha's." One strike. A tear ran down my cheek. But it was too thick to be a tear. I flinched when I realized what it was.
"What do you know about Joseph Pulitzer's workers?"
"Are you talking 'bout the Newsies? Cause I mean, don't know if ya knew this or not, but I live with them." Two strike. My vision was momentarily clouded. I quickly blinked it away.
"His other workers."
"Nothing. They write crappy headlines though." One strike.
"Do you know any of them personally?"
"How many times do I have to say it. No, I don't and I could care less to." Two strikes. The darkness was like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Soft, encouraging, safe, painless. I wanted it so bad.
"What are the schedules of the Newsies." I did a double take.
"What?" One strike. I winced.
"Their daily routines. What they do each day. Where they go, who they hang out with."
"Why on earth would I give you that kind of information?"
"Because I can do worse things to you than you can dream of." I hesitated before pulling myself together and answering in the strongest voice I could muster.
"Go ahead. I'm not selling my friends out." Another hit to the head and my body crumpled to the floor, draping me in the warm and protection of the blanket of darkness. But falling asleep isn't always the safest option.
Pain. Everywhere. That's all I felt. I didn't even know that it was possible for a person to hurt this bad, but apparently it was. Any movement sent rippling tides of pain that cascaded over my entire body, flooding every crack and crevice. I wanted to cry, but even that hurt. I had no clue how long I had been out for, but with the amount of pain I was feeling, I was willingly to bet that Snyder hadn't just let me sleep in peace.
I slowly cracked my eyes open, attempting to ignore the pain that this simple action called before glancing around at what I could see with out moving. I nearly shrieked.
I was sitting in a dark room, apparently Snyder doesn't like windows, that had rats scurrying across the floor, looking for scraps of abandoned food. There was blood staining the walls and floor and even some of the furniture. But worse than all that was the smell. Something had definitely died in here and I wasn't entirely convinced that it was an animal.
I sucked in a deep breath through my mouth, my lungs screaming for fresh air. I needed out of this place. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream until I had no voice left. I wanted to scream for everyone to hear. But no one would. No one except Snyder and his goons, that was.
"I see you're awake," a voice said beside me, causing me to jump. I nearly cursed at the pain.
"Who are you?" I spat.
"Ya don't recognize me?" The voice asked.
"No nitwit, I can't see ya." The figure that the voice belonged to took a step forward to stand in front of me.
"Peter?" I gasped. "What are you doing here?"
"Same thing as you. I have information they need. But my information is a little more important than yours."
"Snyder said the same thing. What kind of information do I have? For that matter what kind of information do you have?"
"You don't have any, Snyder just doesn't know that."
"Great, so I'm here because some crazy old man think I know things that I don't. That's just wonderful." I paused for a moment, before glancing up at Peter. "You didn't answer my question."
"Can't."
"What do you mean you can't?"
"Confidential. Besides, if I told you then Snyder really would have a reason to keep you here." I wanted to stick my tongue out at the boy, but I refrained. Barely.
"So basically I'm stuck here until Snyder decides to stop using me as his goon's personal punching bag?"
"No, we're breaking you out of here."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You should be back at the Lodging House tomorrow morning. We can't have the Newsies running around the city like they are. It's causing too much chaos."
"Peter stop. None of what you're saying is making any sense. Who's we? What do you mean by too much chaos?"
"I can't tell ya who. The chaos the Newsies are causing looking for you."
"Course you can't. How would you know what the Newsies are doing? How long have you been here?"
"A day. Stupid mistake got me caught."
"How long have I been here?" I was having serious deja vu from when we had been in the Refuge together.
"'Bout five days."
"Peter, what does Snyder want? If you say you can't tell me, I'll kill you."
"With the state you're in? I'd like to see you get off the floor without help. I can't tell you everything, but this city is in terrible shape. You wouldn't be able to see it from the outside, but people are getting hurt everyday. Snyder is just one of those inflicting that hurt and he doesn't take too well to people trying to stop him." I have no clue how or even why I remembered it, sitting there, a bloody mess, but the memory of the strike fight ran through my mind.
"Give them to me," a voice said behind me. I whirled around and came face to face with a girl who looked like she had been living on the street her whole life. "Your friends need more help then they do."
"And why would I trust you?" I glared at the girl.
"Because I know that Snyder is going for your friend with the crutch. If you leave for him now, you can get him out before Snyder gets him."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Trust me, I'm really not. Pulitzer is who I'm after, and with your friend in the Refuge, Jack is going to be awful hard to keep the strike going. Now go. You don't have much time."
"What's your name?" I asked the girl.
"Ruth, now please, we can't afford you to lose this battle." I hesitated, glancing at Katherine.
"Go," she said. "We'll be okay."
"Do you know a girl named Ruth?" Peter's head shot in my direction.
"Why?"
"Can't tell ya," I mocked. His gaze stiffened and I smirked. "Chill. She helped me during the strike."
"Crap," Peter muttered. "What were you thinking, Sam?"
"What was who thinking?" I asked innocently. He glared at me.
"You weren't supposed to hear that."
"Then maybe you should learn to talk quieter."
"She's a friend."
"That all? She isn't apart of this little... thing?"
"What would it matter if she were?"
"Just curious is all."
"Marcus is coming," Peter said quickly standing. A door was thrown open, one that I had missed while I had been scanning the room, and Marcus strolled in. How Peter had known that it had been Marcus without seeing him first, I didn't know, but Peter was getting stranger and stranger every minute more I talked to him.
"Move boy," Marcus spat. I couldn't help but smile as I looked up to see Peter holding a firm stance between Marcus and I.
"I told you, she doesn't know anything."
"And I told you to move," Marcus said, punching Peter square in the jaw. The boy crumbled to the ground with a groan but it didn't take long until he was back up. "Snyder's gonna have fun with you."
"She isn't worth anything to you."
"She's worth everything. We have all of those blasted Newsies in our control with that girl-" He pointed to me "-in our clutches." He grabbed Peter by the neck and threw him to the side. "So stay out of our way. C'mon girlie, we've got some more questions."
And with that I was dragged through the building, taking a different route this time and ended up back in the chair of the room that Snyder had questioned me in before.
"Only one question for you today," Snyder said, looking me straight in the eyes.
"Oh good then this won't interfere with my plans," I said sarcastically.
"Do you know a girl who goes by the name Ruth? Or maybe Samantha?"
The answer I gave clearly wasn't good enough, and within moments I was unconscious once again.
Wow okay that was REALLY long. Hope y'all enjoyed. Any predictions?? Thanks so much for reading!!