Thief

Chapter 1 of Criminal, a story about a girl's journey and trials.

"Don't touch the merchandise, fellas!"  She said playfully to the three grizzly butch men that rod in the used 70's stationwagon as she jumped in through the sliding door.  Automatically, the car started and it busted down the street and away from the drunken house party. 

 

She ruffled the oily, sand gritted dark hair of the man closest to her, Big D.  He grimaced lightly at her touch and focused his attention on the windowsheild as he cruised down the dark abandoned highway.  He was in his mid-thirties and rough around the edges.  He wore a tattered red shirt that had once been orange.  Blood and the constant flow of sweat perminantly stained it.  His jeans were punctured in several spots, rips visible on the knees from climbing fences and other means of escape.  His eyes were drooped and lousy.  One eye constantly wandering around, lazy and blue while the other fierce and brown.

 

The girl, hardly past 16 years of age, pursed her lips at his reaction and turned her rather flirtatious and cocky attention towards the man in the passanger seat.  His green, wild eyes watched her cautiously as if she was a wild cat ready to pounch.  His hair was usually dirty blonde but their latest adventure had his hair turned pitch black with dirt, ash, and other particles.  His features weren't as haggard and rough as the man in the driver's seat.  His cheeks had a roundness to them, a child-like presence on an otherwise hazardous person.  His skin was tanned from constant sun and greased over by oil and steam.  His fitted tan shirt whispered secrets of what lay underneath; subtly defined muscles and abs.  He was strong and full of life.

 

"So, what do ya think we'd get for this?"  She asked, smug at her triumph over the latest task.  She raised a handful of jewelry, pearl necklaces, gold lockets, and diamond bracelets galore, and waved them over his head.  The other two men glanced at her, wary.

 

"Probably 1000...800.  Depends if that s**t's real,"  the man in the passenger seat muttered and turned his eyes to the road and then to the clear night sky.  The girl's smug face turned into a scowl and she glared at him.

 

"Of course it's real, J.D.  I always get the good stuff, never that bull that you guys used to fall for before I got here!"  She reminded him of his past failures and he flinched slightly at her tone.  She noticed and smirked in triumph, once again. 

 

"Peggy, give it a rest would ya?"  The gruff man in charge of the steering wheel ordered, his voice tired and appathetic.  Peggy frowned but didn't continue on with her chastising speech.  She plopped down in the back of the van and leaned her head against the back of J.D's seat. 

 

The third man, in his mid 20's, sat opposite her.  He stared at the back window that was covered with a makeshift towel and duct tape.  A flash of light pulsed through a hole in the towel every five seconds, the lamps on the side of the highway.  His name was Ed and he was a silent person, only saying something when there was an argument to settle.  Peggy admired his silence, she found it to be an honorable trait in this world where people never shut up to hear the underlined meaning of life.  He did.  When he spoke, it meant something and it always had an impact on what was being decided.  He was bald, with a tatoo that consumed his head and slithered down his neck and spine.  It was a tribal tatoo that Peggy never fully understood.  She'd tried asking him what it meant but all she got in return was an intelligent but unhelpful stare from him.  He was past bulk and most definitely the muscle in every operation.

 

Peggy sighed and closed her eyes, focusing her fluttering brain on the constant roar of the voltswagon and the whoosh of wind flying past the car's sides.  She faded in and out of unconciousness until finally her anxious, wild mind sunk into sleep.

 

It seemed only seconds later when she was thrust into conciousness once again.  The car had jerked to a stop in front of an abandoned bank in the middle of what would be called "the ghetto".  She and her companions sneaked through the dead of the night, bags of money and jewels hung over their shoulders, to the bank's shattered glass door.  They crawled through the opening and wandered deep into the corridor that lead to the vault. 

 

Peggy barely carried anything, a fact that annoyed her.  They wouldn't allow any female, even their co-conspirator, to carry anything that they considered heavy.  And so, begrudgingly, she carried the lunchboxes.

 

"What's the next place we're going to hit?  That joint was way too easy,"  Peggy stated as they reached the vault and yanked it open.  When everyone was inside, Ed pulled the vault's door closed behind them as Big D turned on a lantern.  She plopped down on a bag of money and criss-crossed her legs.  The group saw her as a pixie, fragile and tiny but in reality she was like any other 16 year old.  She had long, strong legs and a feminine body but one that was built to deal with the elements.  Though they couldn't see it clearly, she had abs and hard muscles that could carry things that any other 20 something year old man could.  She had dark brunette hair that fell in waves around her, strangely enough, heart-shaped face though right now it was pulled back in a tight pony-tail.   Her hazel eyes searched the other faces around her, hungry for info. 

 

"We're taking a break, Peggy.  We have enough cash and jewels to last us for a while..."  Big D stated as he looked around the room at the accumulated pile among pile of bags stashed with treasures.  Most of which came after Peggy had stumbled upon the group.

 

"Aw come on, D.  One more hit wouldn't hurt,"  She pleaded.  Peggy wanted so much to prove herself to them, even though they already knew how cunning and fast she was.  They had hit more than 20 houses in just the past 3 weeks and hadn't been close to being caught even once; all because of Peggy.  She would sneak into the house, or go into a house party, and find her way into rooms and out without making a sound.  They never really understood how she did what she did or why.  It wasn't like they had forced her into the group but instead she'd joined of her own free will.