Chapter 1

        I drowsily opened my eyes and glanced at my digital wristwatch.  9:04 am.  Rolling off a threadbare couch and stumbling down the hallway, I was careful not to step on any of the hung over bodies that lay sprawled on the filthy floor.  Empty needles and liquor bottles, plus some other things that I don't care to mention were strewn everywhere.  The stench of unwashed bodies and marijuana permeated the air and I held my nose as I headed for the kitchen.  Pigs, I thought.  Checking the fridge, I found an egg, a yoghurt cup, a half a bottle of stolen whiskey and a carton of rancid milk.  Yum, I thought dully, taking a heartening swig of the whiskey before placing it back in the fridge and grabbing the yoghurt.  I didn't even bother to check for a clean spoon to eat it with.  Instead, I carried it back to the dilapidated room I'd slept in.

        Setting my yoghurt down, I picked up my button up shirt and black-enough-to-hide-their-filthiness jeans from the floor and threw them on.  I was on my way out the door when I walked past a spotted mirror.  Curiously, I stepped in front of it. My jet black hair was stuck up in all directions and my haggard eyes had dark purple bags under them.  God, I look like a freaking vampire, I thought, slipping into a pair of beat up Nikes.  Shoving the rest of my precious few belongings into my pockets, I reached for the yoghurt and downed it whole.  It slid down my throat in chunks and I shuddered.  A faint moan escaped my lips when I checked the best before date: October 15, 2008.  It was now July of 2009.  Gross.  Thinking about how I was probably going to drop dead in the next five minutes, I headed down the hall once more and found Ally passed out on a moth eaten sofa in nothing but her jeans and a bra, her face about the same shade of white as the stucco wall and her long, wavy brown hair springing out in all directions.
       
        'Ally,' I sighed, 'Wake up.'
       
        She moaned in her sleep and turned over.  I poked her in the side and she jumped about a foot in the air screaming bloody murder about something that she'd been dreaming about.  Stealthy, I thought, slipping my hand over her mouth and checking over my shoulder to see if any of the shelter goers/druggies had woken up.  They hadn't.  She realised who I was and looked up at me with tired eyes.  I let go of her and she padded off to the bathroom.  Five minutes later we were both dressed and ready to go.  She grabbed her purse that I knew for a fact had exactly five bucks and a bus token in it and we slipped out the door, careful not to wake the others.

        The streets of Manhattan, New York thronged with people and resounded with the dull roar of conversations and shouted obscenities while the scent of freshly baked pastries wafted in our direction.  Mouths watering and stomachs aching with hunger, we found the concession stand selling them and spent our limited change on two jam-filled mini-pies of our own personal heaven.  Ally finished her's first and promptly snatched away the last few bites of mine, grinning like the Walmart mascot.  I sighed resignedly and decided that it wasn't worth the effort to wrestle it back from her.

        'Come on, Felix,' she said with a smile, tugging insistently at my wrist, 'Let's go hunting.' Her blue eyes shone with mischief.

        I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth and nodded.  We set off in the general direction of Lower East Side Manhattan, leaving the vivacious civility behind us.  Walking down the cracked and beaten sidewalks, I was suddenly reminiscent of my days in the upper parts of town, when I'd had a real home and two guardians with steady jobs and high incomes.  Ally's step had a spring in it despite her hang over and I knew that she was happy to be alive.  Unlike me, Ally always lived in the moment.  Her chocolate brown hair sparkled in the sunlight and her full moon face beamed with happiness.  She saw me looking at her and instantly flashed a devilish grin in my direction.  I felt myself begin to lighten up in spite of myself.  After all, it was Saturday morning, the sun was blinding and for the first time in a long while, my stomach was not demanding nourishment.

        We continued down the street, eyes warily searching the throngs of people and legs poised for action.  From the corner of my eye I caught something glinting in the sun and quickly nudged Ally in the ribs.  She turned to me and I inclined my head ever so slightly toward the expensive looking strand of pearls being sold to a middle-aged man by a street vendor.

        'Way too easy.' breathed Ally, and we moved in.

        Ally took the left and nonchalantly picked her way through the crowd while I did the same on the right.  She waited until I was in place and then out of nowhere she let out an enraged scream and flung herself at me.  As planned, I toppled into the man holding the merchandise and he in turn fell to the ground.  I could feel Ally's tiny fists pounding my stomach and I had to repress a grin at her ineptness at throwing a punch.  We'll have to work on that, I thought, and feigned an agonized groan.  Clutching my side and flailing around like a dying squirrel, I discreetly laid my hand on the ground to the right of the man and did a  quick search.  Please let him be right-handed, I thought desperately, continuing to fondle the dirt under the pretext of uncontrollable spasms.

        All around me cries of 'What the hell is going on here?!' and 'CALM DOWN YOU DOLTS!' went up.  Finally, my fingers encountered something cool and beaded and I grasped the object, surreptitiously slipping it into my jeans' pocket and taking care not to damage it. Time to go, I thought, and all of a sudden I had my second wind.  I pushed Ally off of me bellowing, 'GET THE HELL OFF ME YOU CRAZY BITCH!' She took the hint and started running in the opposite direction, screeching like a mad woman.  Not too far off the mark, I thought humorously, and took off after her.

        A kilometer down the street we collapsed into peals of laughter, pumped with adrenaline and elated by our success.

        ' “Dolt?!”' Ally managed in between derisive snorts of laughter, 'What the hell is a dolt?'
       
        We laughed hysterically for a full minute before we continued walking, always watching for people trying to catch the teenage thieves.  By now someone would have realised what had happened and there would undoubtedly be people looking for us.  We couldn't afford any lapses in judgment.  Two hours later we were still walking in a zigzag pattern, taking sudden turns and doubling back when we deemed it necessary.  We'd talked lightly about a lot of things and cracked jokes.  All in all, it had been a very enjoyable Saturday morning.
       
        'Are we there yet?' Ally whined, putting on the voice of a spoiled six year old and dragging her feet.

        'No, and don't make me turn this car around,' I shot back.  She laughed a little at this.

        'Seriously though,' she said, her voice returning to normal, 'my feel are killing me.  I gotta sit down soon.'

        'Yeah, they must be, ' I said soberly, glancing at her twenty dollar black flats. 'And those can't be helping.  Tell you what, we'll sell this (I yanked out the stolen string of pearls) at Mickey's pawn shop and then we'll eat out some place that will let us keep ordering coffees after we've finished eating.  That should give us plenty of time to rest up.'

        She nodded her approval.  I was starting to get tired too and the thought of another half hour of walking was daunting.  Still, we needed the money, so we set coarse for Mickey's Emporium.

        About ten minutes later, the sudden squealing of tires and the drunken shouts of four young men scared the shit out of me as a decked out pimp-car rounded the corner and pulled next to us.  The Hispanic driver hung out his window, puffing on a joint of some sort that emitted a terrible odour.  I could tell that he was wasted.  Rap music blared from the high-end sound system and I could feel the back beat coming up from the asphalt and through my sneakers.

        'You up fer a ride?' slurred the dark-haired man, obviously mistaking Ally for a prostitute and apparently not noticing my scowling face.

        True to form, Ally stared at the pavement like it was the world's hottest guy's abs and sidled away.  I watched this little show for a moment, sighed, and turned back to the men.

        'Piss off,' I said flatly and turned to walk away.  I didn't feel like dealing with a bunch of strung-out wannabe gangsters.

        Then from behind me I heard 'What'd you say ta me?' I froze; the music in the car died down.  Ally stopped walking and didn't move a muscle, her back still turned to me.  I slowly turned to see the man fumbling with the car door handle and step out, not bothering to close it.  He threw the still burning joint to the ground and stumble towards me.

        'Get back here you bastard,' he said, still advancing. 'I'm talking to you punk.' He had a thick Brooklyn accent that made his words sound more like: 'I'm tawkin' to ya punk.'

        The other men drunkenly cheered after him and an acrid mix of tobacco and marijuana smoke poured from the side windows.  Pathetic, I thought, right before I drew back my fist and landed a punch in his gut with as much force as I could muster.  He doubled over, making an odd wheezing noise, his legs starting to buckle.  I turned and strode past Ally, who'd stood there impassively the whole time.  She quickly caught up to me and fell in step.

        Half an hour later of tense silence and shifty eyes, we arrived at Mickey's pawn shop and had the stolen necklace up on the grubby, glass counter top for inspection.  Mickey was usually pretty fair to us and we trusted him to give us its worth, even though we knew that he knew full-well how we'd obtained it.  The dark corner-shop reeked of cigarette smoke and the dust alone was enough to choke a horse.  Mickey himself was about seventy years old and looked as though he had bathed in dust.  I wouldn't have been at all surprised to see cobwebs nestled in his silvery hair, and on second inspection, there was.

        Presently he was examining the merchandise with a magnifying glass, supposedly checking for damage, though I didn't see how he could possible see anything in that lighting.  Presumably, it was all for show.  His spindly fingers caressed the smooth beads and he mumbled a number to himself as though checking its accuracy before nodding decidedly and gently laying the necklace down.

        'So, what'll it be Mickey? Forty, fifty grand?' I joked.  He smiled serenely.

        'Not quite Felix. More like sixty or seventy dollars, but business is booming today so I'll give you seventy.  Deal?'

        'Deal.' I confirmed quickly, and he set three twenties and a ten on the counter.  No one would give us a better deal than that.

        'Thanks a lot Mickey.' I said emphatically while Ally stuffed the bills in her wallet.  We left the sop grinning and walked down 23rd street, examining restaurant windows before settling on a trendy little diner called Serendipity.

        We walked into the tiny room and Ally veered over to the nearest booth, sliding into it and sinking into the maroon pleather seat.  I gratefully sat down next to her and we both leaned our heads back and rested our feet on the seat across from us.  The two of us sat just like that for about five minutes before a harried waitress literally ran over and chucked a couple of menus at us that slid across the wooden table and took out the glass salt shaker.  The entire table and booth across from us was coated with little white micro-crystals of salt.  I looked over to see Ally shaking with suppressed laughter and all of a sudden the whole situation seemed hilarious.  Our meals comprised of fried haddock, steak, potatoes and a side salad.  Plus there was this weird sauce that was supposed to be for the steak, but that neither of us would touch.  The rest of the lunch/dinner passed without much conversation seeing as we were far too busy woofing down food like a couple of starved hyenas.  I had to hand it to Ally.  With her there was none of this, “I'll stick to a light salad even though I'm dying for real food” shit.

                                                                                          *  *  *

        We drifted contentedly along the dimly lit sidewalk for a while without speaking before I heard Ally say, 'Where are we going tonight?' from beside me.

        'That depends,' I replied, sighing, 'Did you have a particular place in mind?'

        I glanced at her and she shook her head.  She was starting to stumble a bit and I knew that she was tired.  Her eyes were glazed over and fixed straight ahead.  All in all, she gave the impression of a toddler right before nap-time.  I made a snap decision and suddenly turned left down an alleyway that I knew led to Lori's, a popular diner on 3rd Street.  Ally and I were friendly with Lori and she knew about our present, uh...situation.  The fact was that we were homeless and that we stole for a living.  She was sympathetic and said tat we could stay in the loft above the diner if we ever needed to.  I think it's time to call her on that, I thought, heading for the neon blue sign flashing, “OPEN” in the floor-to-ceiling glass window.  She's open late, I remarked thoughtfully, glancing at my watch.  9:02.

        'Lori's?' asked Ally doubtfully.  I could understand her skepticism.  Lori was, shall we say, out there; with substance use, I mean.  This left plenty of room for the imagination concerning the state of her loft.  We'd reached the front door and I wrenched it open.  Tiny bells signaled our entrance.

        'Unless you've got a better idea.' I replied.  She shook her head resignedly and stepped inside.  After a few well directed compliments and some serious sucking up, Lori led us upstairs.

        'Here are your beds, kids.' she said in a dreamy voice, gesturing towards a couple of moth eaten cots, 'Sleep well.' And with that, she drifted off out of the room, leaving the faint scent of Crown Royal in her wake.

        'That's gonna be a killer hangover.' muttered Ally, throwing herself onto the nearest cot.  I collapsed fully clothed, onto my own.  We lay there in silence for a few minutes, both of us drowning in our own thoughts before Ally finally broke the silence.

        'We can't keep this up you know.'

        'I know.' I replied quietly, massaging my temples.  It had been a while since we'd had a real home and we were starting to feel the strain.  I felt over-whelmed, stressed out, exhausted, worn out; basically I was ready to throw myself in front of a moving vehicle.  'But it's not as if we've got a whole lot of options, is it?'

        'I've been thinking...' she trailed off.  We both knew where this was going.

        'No Ally.  I'm not going.  Forget it.  If you want to go by yourself, I won't stop you, but I'M NOT GOING.'

        'Would you just look at yourself?!' she blurted angrily, surveying my appearance, 'You haven't had a shower in about two weeks, you've got one change of clothes and you're so thin I could probably use you to jimmy a lock.  You look like one of those starved children from Africa.  No, actually, those starved children in Africa look like rich white trash compared to you.  You need food.  You need to clean up!'


        Looking at my own body for the first time in months, I realized that she was right.  My ribs stuck out through my black T-shirt like tent poles and my wrists were about as big around as pepper shakers.  I sighed.

        'So maybe I'm a little malnourished, but read my lips: I'm. Not. Going.'

        'You're not even listening to me!' she spat back.  'What is your alternate plan? Do you even have a plan?  Joining your brother's gang isn't exactly my idea of a good time either, but if it means food and even the occasional access to a bathtub...'

        'You now I can't.' I muttered darkly.

        'Oh?' she replied, 'And why not?'

        'What exactly am I supposed to say to him?' I shot back, taking a step towards her.  'Huh?  “Hey you murdering sonofabitch, how about I join up with you and we become best buds” Are you seriously asking me to come within a six mile radius of that evil bastard?  He's a killer, Ally.  A killer, a sneaky liar and a thief.  You can't trust him.'

        'Well, with the exception of murder, you pretty much just summed you and me up in a nutshell.' she fumed exasperatedly. 'And what's more is that you're behaving so childishly that murder might not be an exception in a minute!'

        ' I'm not taking us near him.  First of all, it's not safe.  Second of all-'

        'Oh please!' Ally broke in coldly, 'The only reason you won't go is your own damn pride.  You know what I think?  I think you're a coward.  You won't talk to him because you're afraid to know the truth.  That's it, isn't it?  What if he really didn't kill your sister?  What will you do then?  Who will you hate and take your bitterness out on if he isn't guilty of the crime you pinned him with?  You never even told me why you're so sure it was him that did it, you know.  You want to know why I think you didn't tell me?  Because you don't know!  You haven't got a damn clue what happened have you?  God, Felix, you have got some serious problems.  But for God's sake, can't you see that our lives are at stake here?!'

        I was shaking with rage and was afraid that if I opened my moth, I'd say something I'd regret.  I had to get out of there, so I spun around and strode quickly towards the staircase, exercising every ounce of self control that I possessed not to turn around and throttle her.

        'Felix, wait,' she commanded sharply, catching up to me and planting herself directly in my path. 'We have to talk about this.'

        'Get the hell out of my way,' I hissed emphatically, drilling holes into her with my eyes.  The fact that they were so dark that they were almost black and that they had deep, bruise-like shadows under them must have looked alarming because she took a startled step back before I roughly pushed past her and breezed down the stairs.

        The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face as I took off at a sprint.  The bones in my ankle jarred with the impact and sent pain shooting up my legs.  It felt good, so I pounded the pavement harder, savouring the contact with the real world that it created.  The flickering, orange street lights cast a peaceful glow over everything and the whole thing felt surreal.  Eventually I grew tired and collapsed onto a street bench, panting like a dog and shaking sweat out of my eyes.  I closed my eyes and leaned back, resting my head on the grainy wood.  I pressed the heals of my hands hard into my eyes until I saw stars.

        Red stars.  I hate the colour red.  Red is the colour of anger...and blood.  There had been so much blood.  Everywhere I had looked that night, there had been blood.  Blood on the walls, blood in the sink.  Blood coating the floor and slowly lazily trickling from a chest wound, like a tiny red stream.  I'd started yelling when I'd realized what had happened.  Sara.  My poor Sara had been as white as the kitchen wall, her eyes sunken in her pale little face.  She'd kept on saying my name, like she had something to tell me but she couldn't remember what it was.  The ambulance had gotten there three minutes too late.  I also hate the number three.

        I got up and started walking, picking a direction at random.  I loved Ally, but there was no way I could ever tell her the truth, no way that she'd ever understand.  When they'd pulled me away from Sara's body, they hadn't given me anything to wipe myself off with.  I'd arrived at the hospital in a state of shock, my blood sodden clothes hanging off of me in limp folds.  They'd started sticking me with needles, buzzing to each other in low, hushed tones.  The whole place had smelled like it had been doused in Rubbling Alcohol and my nose had stung with the stench of it for days, even after I'd left the hospital.  Something you should know:  I can't stand the smell of antiseptic.

        My eyes were starting to droop and I peered at my watch under the dim glare of a nearby street lamp.  It was about ten o'clock and I figured Ally was probably asleep by now.  She'd been so tired...so I decided to head back.  All I could think about on the way back to Lori's was one sentence, the sentence that I'd uttered when they'd questioned me in the interrogation room: 'I didn't do it.' The truth is, that may have been a lie.

        Sometime later, I carefully eased open the back door to Lori's taking care to lock it behind me.  I crept up the stairs and quietly pushed open the door to the dusty attic loft.  There lay Ally, her back to the door, stretched out on the cot with her arms tucked pillow-style under her right cheek.  Her side slowly rose and fell with her breathing and I could tell that she was really asleep, but just to make sure, I silently padded over to her.  I was startled to see that there were glittering tear tracts etched onto her cheeks and that her makeup had run slightly, giving her the look of a manic-depressive raccoon.  Her hair was wild and fell in her mouth and eyes.  I reached down and gently tucked it behind her ear.  Then, sighing, I bent down, kissed her on the cheek and returned to my own cot.  I would have to figure out something to say to her in the morning.  I plopped down and stretched out, feeling my tense, sore muscles relax and my breathing begin to slow.  Suddenly, I felt someone lay down next to me and I realized that Ally must have been feigning sleep.  So much for my top-of-the-line lie detection skills. 

        'I thought you were asleep.' I mumbled hoarsely, turning to her and gathering her into my arms.

        'I am.' she slurred, snuggling in closer. 

        'We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Ally?' After several moments when she didn't answer, glanced down worriedly, only to see that she was already asleep.  I kissed her lightly on her cheek and she smiled faintly in her oblivion.  I lay back down in the darkness and waited for sleep to pounce, lulled by Ally's steady breathing, her light breaths warm on my throat and her small right hand loosely gripping my shirt.  It was then that I was struck by how young she looked when she slept, her wavy brown hair fell around her like a halo and her mouth was slightly open, curving up at the corners, and I suddenly felt very protective of her.  Pulling her tightly to me, I lay down and drifted off to sleep, trying to ignore the uneasy question that bounced around my head.  What would she do when she found out the truth?