Sixth And Seventh - Chapter 1

Story by Teura Ethlorn on SoFurry

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Raised in a gang, Anton does what he can to survive the mean streets of Vitale City


Paws padded softly around a corner sidewalk, entering a dingy alleyway. The alleyway was narrow, barely wide enough for two to pass each other without a squeeze. Neighbors in the apartments far above the ground often swapped tools and cooking utensils across the gap, window to window. It was a convenient place for the feline to hide himself. He walked with his head bent, shoulders hunched, the hoodie he wore obscuring his face. Waiting for a few minutes, he soon heard the crunch of tires as a vehicle halted on the street outside.

Anton leaned against the brick wall behind him, looking at the ground as the sounds of footsteps receded and a door slammed. His hand reached in the pocket of his hoodie out of habit, checking to make sure he still had the package. His fingers found the texture of a brown paper back wrapped around something flat. He let out a little sigh, and with another cautious look toward the street he had come from, he quickly went the other direction, down the alleyway.

Hurrying his footsteps, he broke free from the confining alleyway, into a bright and beautiful summer day. Various shops lined the streets here. Dry cleaners, laundromat, a few little restaurants and goods stores. Slowing down to a casual pace, Anton carefully glanced from beneath his hood to take stock of his surroundings. Nothing too worrisome presented itself. It was a regular day. Kids played ball in the streets while residents did their shopping, coming and going. The sidewalk led him to Stein's Comics, a shop he always liked when he was younger. He still liked to come here now and then. This time, it was business. He stood casually and waited outside the shop, giving a quick signal to those inside that he was here for a delivery. Albert Stein, a slightly overweight porcupine in his mid-fifties, opened the door and began sweeping the step. Anton waited, looking like he was interested in the kid's ball game, until Albert was close enough to pass the package to him unnoticed.

The exchange was over in a minute, invisible to an outside eye, and Albert casually called,

"Oh, hey, Anton, eh? Did you come by to check out my new comics? Got a shipment of Starglass Mark just this Friday."

Anton had relaxed since he no longer carried anything that would get him in trouble with the law and he smiled and nodded.

"Hey, sure thing, Mr. Stein. That's just the one I've been waiting for!"

Suddenly, Albert grabbed Anton's shoulder and steered him to the shop with a laugh.

Once they were in the cool, dusty interior, the smile left Albert's face.

"Sorry kid. Just take a copy and get out the back way, quick."

Anton felt the package enter his hands once more. Albert's voice was urgent.

"Take this to Samson. Don't let yourself get spotted! Hurry!"

He gave him a shove and Anton made for the back door just as the Ding! of the main door sounded. He heard Albert's voice and the voices of two others he couldn't identify speaking as he left.

"What can I do for you? Collectors? You've come to the right place." he heard Albert say.

Then a voice, controlled, but tight with anger spoke.

"Don't try to play around with me. We know you have it."

The voices were now out of earshot, but Anton had a bad feeling welling in the pit of his stomach. How did they know to come there? He was sure he'd been careful. Something wasn't right.

The back door led into a small patio shared by Mr. Stein and the bakery next to him. A table and a few chairs sat in the center and there was a bit of stonework within the area, which was now becoming somewhat overgrown. Ivies tumbled from the walls while small flowers struggled their way through the cracks in the stonework. Just enough sunlight streamed through the buildings to illuminate the little patio area, giving it a quaint glow. Anton, however, didn't have time to admire the place. He started running as soon as he left Stein's. Several back doors led into the alley up ahead and washing was hung to dry across it.

Anton dodged a couple of buckets and jumped over some boards which lay across the alleyway. Heart pounding in his ears, he zigzagged through different sidestreets and alleys until he reached the factory district. Here, everything was greyer and he could smell the papermill before he could see it. Coughing, he covered his mouth and ventured further until he reached the factory itself. Several factories occupied this part of the city, but the one which also served as headquarters for Sixth Street Kings was one of the oldest, and was no longer in use. Up ahead was a shabby wooden fence with bright colored graffiti sprayed across it, as well as several no trespassing signs.

He came up to the sign which read, "Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight" and, kicking his foot under one of the fence boards, he pulled the sign and board aside and slipped through the crack, entering the grounds. Several buildings were scattered here and there. A large warehouse building was the closest to him, several administration buildings, and one large stone edifice, which had several floors and barely any windows. He headed for the latter, careful not to step on broken glass.

The door creaked open and it felt like entering a tomb. The air smelled of dust and mildew and had the sense that nothing living had been there for a good while. Ignoring the musty smell, Anton entered the dark interior. He was light on his feet, so he made barely a sound as he crept through the building, following a specific path. In some places, the floors had fallen out and he only knew one safe path. He came upon a flight of stairs, leading down, and followed them into the basement. It was pitch black, but the feline's eyes could take in the smallest amounts of light, and he could still make out a long hallway, and some light up ahead, coming from under a door.

Making his way there, he turned the knob and the door swung inward. Inside the room, there were several low couches and a coffee table, taking up the center of the room. Taking a quick glance around, he didn't see anyone inside, so he sat down on one of the low couches. It creaked as he sank into it. Slowing his breathing, he laid back and tried to relax. He didn't like this place at all. But worse than the eeriness of the place was the ominous presence he could feel every time he was sent to speak with Samson. The bull was known for his temper, but if he was really contemplating murdering, he would go deathly calm. The room felt like that calm and Anton hoped his anxiety wouldn't show on his face when Samson showed up. Eyes flicked around the room while his knuckles turned white as they gripped the package.

"Damn, I just want to be done with this job..." he thought to himself.

The fluorescents which lit the room buzzed and flickered now and then, causing him to jump. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, relaxing his grip on the package. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.

"What the hell do you want, kid?"

Yelping, he scrabbled to catch hold of the package, which flipped from his hands. Catching it just before it hit the floor, he turned around to see who was speaking. What he saw was the form of a voluptuous tigress leaning over the back of the couch.

"Ah, er, you startled me.. Nadina.. I have a.. a package for Samson." he swallowed a bit, glancing around. No one else had entered the room but Nadina. He always felt nervous when the attractive tigress was in the same room with him. Nadina chuckled and smiled, a set of perfect teeth flashing.

"Oh?" she purred, leaning closer so that the low-cut shirt she wore showed her cleavage more. Anton backed away. It suddenly felt even more suffocating in the room.

"Y-yeah.." he found himself handing the package to her. "I've.. I've gotta go.." he said quickly.

Nadina ignored the package, instead taking his hand in hers. Anton felt his fur fluff up and he dropped the package, snatching his hand away from her. His face was beet red. Backing toward the door, he stammered.

"I...I've got another job... gotta get to work." the last word came out as a squeak.

Nadina reached gracefully to pick up the package.

"I'll make sure this gets to Samson." she said, smiling sweetly at him. "Don't be too much of a stranger. I know Samson can be.. intimidating." she laughed lightly. "Don't worry, though. If you're coming to see me, he can't be angry with you." She winked.

"I'm sure I could help you with your homework.." her eyes sparkled. "A poor boy without a mother..."

"Ah, thank you.. for the offer. Okay.. " he stepped out of the room and let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall before heading back the way he had come, feeling like the fly that just escaped a spider's web.

Anton's feet led him back to the small flat he shared with three other members of the gang who were about his age. Reis opened the door when he got to the first step. Reis Santana was a short and chubby armadillo several years younger than Anton with a bubbly personality.

"Anton, you're home!" she hugged him, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

"Ah! Lemme go, Reis! Do ya want me to drop the groceries?"

Reis abruptly let him go, snatching the plastic bag he had brought from the convenience market. While she was rummaging through it, Anton slipped past her and headed for the small refrigerator which sat in their kitchen area, which also doubled as the living room, and, further past the shabby cigarette-burned couches was their sleeping area.

Opening the fridge, Anton grabbed a beer and sat on the couch, cracking it open with a satisfying Crick! He took a few gulps and sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"There's something you can make dinner with in there."

"Yeah, who told you I was gonna cook for ya?" Reis snapped playfully. "Oh, what's this? Lasagna? You know we can't afford cheese to go with this. Ya wanna eat the noodles plain?"

Anton waved a hand dismissively, eyes half closed. "I got sauce. It's tomato." he said dozily.

"Hah. Living the high life, huh?" Reis said, grabbing the two-burner countertop range and a pot.

Anton mumbled something, but even he wasn't really sure what he'd said. His mind became a jumbled mix of memories and dreams as he surrendered to sleep.