Old Friends

Will runs across an old gang of his.

The sun was long gone and the shadows dark outside the bar. Will had a good position, nearly invisible behind the alley’s corner. But he doubted he could stay away much longer. He was about to give up when he heard some shouting, and peeked hopefully around the corner. Will grinned as a drunk staggered out, evidently thrown from the pub. He turned the corner and began to follow the reeking man.

 

Will grabbed the heavy stone from his pocket, feeling a pang of guilt as he usually did with this strategy. Steeling himself as he carefully approached the drunk, he saw how far gone the man was and smiled. He’d remember nothing in the morning.

 

Just as Will was about to emerge from the shadows, the man turned at a shout from behind. Another man jogged up from the bar and put the drunk’s arm around his shoulders, saying something Will couldn’t hear. The two turned and headed off in the other direction.

 

Will glowered for a moment, then put the stone back in his pocket and decided to go home. He had some bread and sleep waiting for him. He decided to take a shortcut, his exhausted mind wondering why he never came this way.

 

He walked in the shadows of the street, yawning and looking forward to his bed. Nest, really; it was his old jacket and some rags masquerading as blankets. But after a minute, a familiar whistle from the rooftops whisked his sleepiness away in a second. He stopped, heart racing, and looked frantically for a sidestreet.

 

Before he could react, a man he remembered as a boy descended rapidly down a building ahead, followed by four more young men. They slowly moved to surround Will, who with a sinking stomach noticed more figures on the rooftop.

 

Will froze. 8^th Street. “S**t.” There was a very big reason he didn’t come this way.

 

The man barked a harsh laugh, startling Will a bit. “I see you missed us,” he said lightly, though the glint in his eye remained hard.

 

“Not particularly,” Will said. “But I’m sure you missed me more.”

 

“Is that so?” he said dangerously, taking a step forward. Will might have retreated further if it wasn’t for the boy behind him.

 

“Billy,” said Will, waiting a moment to see the man’s reaction. His face darkened; he’d always insisted on being addressed with proper respect. It seemed that hadn’t changed. “Why on earth do you still care?”

 

Billy’s nostrils flared, and Will was reminded of an angry bull. He was momentarily distracted by the image of holding a red cloth in front of his nose, and had to stifle a potentially nervous laugh.

 

The man saw Will’s slight smile and took another step toward him, his expression murderous. “When you left, I promised I’d kill you if I saw you again,” he said softly.

 

Will backed up as much as he dared. He had to say something tough, he had to act strong, he had to do something�"“your breath is terrible,” he exclaimed as he caught a whiff of it. That might have been a mistake, he thought. But Billy’s expression was worth it, and Will resolved to laugh about it later. To do that, of course, he had to live.

 

Billy reached into his pocket, showing a glint of silver. Suddenly, living seemed a lot more difficult. “You’re forgetting how outmatched you are.”

 

“Outnumbered, not outmatched,” said Will evenly. “And I think you’re the one forgetting something. I left because I’m smarter.” He whirled around and clubbed the unsuspecting kid behind him with the heavy stone he’d been clutching. He felt a little badly as the nasty sound sent the boy in a heap, but he’d never liked him anyway.

 

He turned to meet another charging boy with a hard punch to the jaw, kicking him in the groin for good measure. Before he could turn to run, he was tackled, his shoulder smacking the ground hard. The familiar young man pinned him on his back and Will took a few hits before wrenching himself free. He quickly smashed the stone into the boy's nose, grimacing and muttering an apology before scrambling up. That one had once helped mend his shirt.

 

Billy and the other boy stood warily, one of the bleeding ones gingerly joining them. Will glanced at the wall to his back and saw figures begin to climb down. He looked back at Billy to meet a giant blur of a fist with his eye, and heard his head ricochet against the brick wall. He slid down slowly, pain blossoming through his skull. A kick to the ribs brought him to his hands and knees, and two more prompted him to curl up and protect his head. It didn’t work, and yet another caught him square in the nose.

 

The assault ceased for a moment, and Will took a breath, wheezing slightly. He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the sharp protest from his swollen eye. Billy stood with a smirk and his knife snapped open with a chilling sound. He leaned forward, presumably to say something thick and obnoxious. Will didn’t give him the chance, sweeping his leg into Billy’s knee and knocking him to the ground.

 

 

As Billy scrambled up, Will darted around him, turning to run for the safety of the street. But he found his way blocked by a sandy-haired young man who promptly threw a clumsy punch. Will dodged and made a dramatically hard uppercut, just touching his opponent’s stomach. The man flew off his feet and Will punched the ground next to his head, grinning. “Thanks, Charlie,” he whispered to the loudly groaning and writhing man. The boy did always have a flair for the dramatic.

 

Will was up and running far faster than his half-hearted pursuers, hearing Billy’s angry shouts behind him. Once he was safely clear, he checked himself for injuries. A few nasty bruises were evident, but probably nothing was broken except his nose, which ached fiercely. All in all, he was remarkably unscathed. Most who came up against the 8^th Street gang couldn’t say that much.

 

Once Will had helped make sure of it.

 

He’d taken the long way home after all, but finally reached his little corner in the tiny alley. The bakery’s unused back entrance made a somewhat cozy spot, distant from most dangers of the night. He fell gingerly onto the blankets with relief, and was asleep within minutes.

Author's Note

Chapters aren't in order! They're scattered adventures in the lives of different characters. Please review!