Laying on one of the higher roofs in the abandoned area in the northern part of the Foot, I gnawed on a heel of bread, waiting for my prey.

With the deliveries done, I felt a bit more like myself, and over the hours I spent scurrying around the city managed to come up with a plan to prove my superiority over the Butcher Street Boys, once and for all. I quietly cackled, then coughed as dust got in my mouth; the flat roof provided no cover from the wind whatsoever.

It would be accurate to call them my nemeses. Our interactions were the stuff of ballads: alliances forged and broken, betrayals, grand battles, hostages and subjugated forces, with the minor caveat that it was conducted solely by children below the age of fifteen. The grand odyssey had a deceptively simple beginning: Blake and his boys had bullied Sash once and I had been left in the dirt after trying to defend her honour. I had gotten them back, then they had gotten me back, and then it was a whole thing.

Though, from what I understood most fights here were more life-or-death, however; nearly every participant was an orphan of some type, parents killed eight years ago. Half of the city had died in the battle, after all. Most of the population had shuffled inwards afterwards, closer to the fertile land around the oasis at the centre of the city, but it was inevitable some would linger, having nowhere else to go.

What was left were mostly tribes of roaming kids who hated adults with a passion. Children could roam the area with only a shake-down, but grown-ups tended to get beaten half to death, which is why most stayed out. Admittedly, compared to all that, me and Blake’s feud ended up looking like one of the more casual ones around. Beating the snot out of him remained very important to me, however.

The Butcher Street Boys dominated the area. At present, it was headed by Blake, my sometimes-enemy and always-rival. The name was more fitting when their territory was arranged around a butcher’s, and the gang consisted only of six boys and no girls, yet Blake was too stubborn to change it to something that made actual sense.

The building I was sat on was a former storehouse. From what I heard, it was mostly filled with construction materials, mostly uncut stone and half-rotted lumber. Kids couldn’t do much with things that took four grown men to move, so it had been mostly left alone. Recently, however, with the Houses coming back in, there were people looking to reclaim the storehouse’s contents and sell it. A kid I had bribed with a pork bun told me Blake had been rolling stuff out on logs for the past few days, moving the supplies to a more secure location. If I had played my cards right, he should be coming by soon.

When he and his crew exited the building, I would kick the supports off a pile of planks I had accrued, sending it all smashing over their heads. Hopefully that would fell most of my rivals cronies – though it might not, given how light I had to make the pile to be assured it wouldn’t kill anyone. After that, I would hop down, we would fight, and then I would go home, feeling a bit better.

Where were they, anyway?

It took around twenty minutes of doing Stitch’s homework (damn negative multiplication) before I saw the Butcher Boys, though a beefy girl a little older than me was included amongst their number. Unfortunately, that was around five minutes after they had seen me, giving the four of them enough time to scale the storehouse.

I startled, then attempted to stealthily shove the wax tablet back into my pack. My efforts were wasted; Blake had already seen it.

“Here’s sweet little Orvs,” he droned. “Doin’ his numbers like a good boy should. What, little munchkin, are you doin’ so high up anyway? You could hurt yourself!”

The verbal component of our fights were probably the most painful part. Nevertheless, I soldiered on.

“I came to investigate some mysterious creatures the poor citizens of the Foot have glimpsed roaming the streets. Reports claim they’re ugly, hairy, and reek like an unemptied toilet! And would you believe it, with only my humble self as a lure, they arrived!”

Blake looked around in an exaggerated fashion, then gestured to himself. “What, us?” he shook his head slowly. “We’re simply a few concerned fellas, hopin’ to help a kid stranded on a roof.”

The girl turned to a pudgy teenager – a familiar face, though I didn’t know his name – giving Blake and I an incredulous look. Pudge shook his head slowly. The other kid present, seemingly of an age with my siblings, stared, starry-eyed, at Blake and I’s exchange.

“Well, if you really wanted to do me a favour, go and stand right about… there,” I said, pointing below my carefully arranged trap.

“Ah, we wouldn’t want to leave you alone.”

We eyed each other for a moment. Myself, trained by a storied general and four kids who had spent the better part of their life scrapping. Four of them. I probably wouldn’t put chits on myself for this fight.

Still, nothing was happening. The location was bad; no one wanted to fall off a three-storey roof and break bones, or alternatively push someone else off the roof, potentially killing them. The wind buffeting us didn’t help. Still keeping my gaze on them, I began shuffling sideways, trying to move to a spot where I could jump to another roof.

Seeing that, the starry-eyed twit decided it was a good moment to charge. Acting on instinct, I began preparing to use his momentum against him, before realising doing so had a good chance of hurling the kid off the roof. Instead I just shoved him, sending him stumbling back into Blake.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I heard Blake mutter ‘Davey, you good?’ but was too busy dealing with the butch girl’s jabs to look. I barrelled forward, giving her the opportunity to flatten my nose twice, yet the movement took me away from the edge and into her guard. She snarled, rearing her head back to smash into mine, but before she finished the movement I punched her in the kidney and moved past as she reeled.

I didn’t like the look of Pudgy – the guy had some muscle beneath the fat – so I tried to move towards Blake instead. He was already socking me across the jaw, and, feeling the world dip for a second, I dived into a roll, almost incidentally knocking little Davey over. I didn’t have time to finish my spin before Blake’s boot hit my arse, boosting me along.

Still disoriented, I stumbled to my feet. Pudgy was coming in, hands splayed for a grapple, so I kicked a plank towards him, tripping him slightly, and smacked him across the temple. As I tried for a second hit, one of the wooden planks broke over my head. It was fortunate they were so rotted because I barely felt it. I stumbled away from Blake, who still held the rotted end a plank, only to be kicked in the ribs by the girl, apparently recovered from my blow.

I coughed, feeling something creak in my torso, but used the opportunity to grab at her leg. She rained blows on me, but the lack of footing stole any weight from them. I ducked, trying to keep moving, and pushed at her other leg, sending her onto the floor. I managed to kick her twice before I saw Blake’s shadow moving towards me, so I dipped towards the other side of the roof, looking for another roof to jump down onto.

Blake was still approaching, however, so I tried to kick him in the gut. The blow landed, only he decided to use my own move against me, wrapping his arms around my leg to immobilise it. I felt the urge to lift my other leg and smash him in the face, but supressed it; such a move would push off the roof. Instead, when he came in to take my other leg down, I elbowed him in the back of his head and simultaneously kneed him in the face.

We both fell to the ground. He was on his feet before me – Probably more practiced at being knocked on his ass, I thought – and used the opportunity to throw a hook into my jaw. I managed to block it, but Pudgy was already punching me straight in the mouth. Though dizzied, I kept my footing and muscled past, jabbing his gut to little effect, only to be grabbed by the beefy girl.

We both spun awkwardly a few times, her hands too occupied to hit me and mine finding punching her stomach to be surprisingly ineffective. The grapple ended when I realised Pudgy’s blow had loosened a tooth, which I proceeded to spit – along with a gob of blood – in her eye. She made a disgusted noise and wiped her face, giving me the opportunity to make some distance from Blake and Pudgy by moving across the roof’s edge.

Of course, that was when the smallest member of the gang charged me again, apparently thinking a second time would work better. Still slightly dizzy from Pudgy’s punch and the girl and I’s little spin, I stepped aside – only to curse as I realised what I had just done.

I wheeled around. The kid tripped over the edge of the roof and I leaned forward, grabbing for him, only just able to catch the edge of his tunic. There was a moment where everything froze as we hung, him gripping my hand and I desperately attempting to pull us both back. Without anything for me to grip, my traction proved too little, and we both ended up teetering off the side.

The boy let out a shrill scream as I wrapped my arms around him, trying to quickly twist the kid on top of me. Then we were falling, and I was treated to the view of a roof and three horrified Butchers getting further and further away. I measured our descent against the storehouse’s walls – one third down, two thirds down – and then something massive struck me in the back and all the air rushed out of me.

The world spun as we rolled, then the two of us hit another building and stopped, dazed. I coughed, pain lancing through my ribs. Blinked. Davey rolled away. I blinked again.

“Hey,” I wheezed, still winded. “Are you okay?”

The shrimp nodded dumbly.

From above us, I heard Blake yell. “Davey! Orvs! You two good?”

I gave him a shaky thumbs up. Pushing against the ground, I tried to move to a sit against the wall, only to grunt as my back protested. Suddenly panicked, I tried to wiggle my toes – and succeeded. “Praise the blood,” I muttered, letting my head fall back to the dirt.

The agony wracking my ribs waxed and waned as I watched Blake and the others scale down. Only a few moments had passed before their feet had hit the ground. The girl approached me warily as Blake and Pudgy squatted in front of little Davey. I tried to spit more blood at her and she tripped backwards, falling on her bottom.

“How in all eight gods are you alive?” she asked, seeming more shocked than offended.

“Tough-“ I coughed, then whispered. “Tough and clever.”

She snorted and shook her head, still wide-eyed, and moved to check on the kid. Blake muttered something to Pudgy, who shook his head lightly. The leader grunted, rose to his feet, and moved over to me.

“Think that’s my win, Orvs.” He grinned, then offered a hand.

I waved it away. “Think I’ll lie here-“ I coughed. “For a few more minutes. You’ve got to teach that kid not to throw himself off buildings.” I supressed another cough as he answered.

“Yeah. Y’know what? This’ll be a draw. I’ll let you have that.”

“Kind of you.”

He lowered himself down next to me, and we sat in companionable silence for a while. Eventually, Pudgy approached, telling us he was taking Davey back to their hideout so they could have a better look at him. Blake waved him off. After a few more moments the beefy girl stomped over and sat, leaning against the wall next to me.

“Why were we fighting, anyway?”

“Orvs here-” he slapped me on my head. I groaned, and he sheepishly apologised. “Sorry. Orvs here likes a good tussle.”

“We’re nemeses! Rivals!”

“Yeah, that. We been tussling on an off for years. Sometimes he lends us a hand, too, but mostly he’s pulling this kind of garbage.”

I swore at him, and he laughed.

“That’s most of it, anyway.”

The girl stared at the two of us.

I wheezed, then finally asked the question burning through my mind: “What’s your name anyway?”

“Erin.” She sniffed.

“Right. Erin. Do you want to get something to eat sometime?”

Blake roared with laughter, a truly excessive amount. My would-be date snorted, and I cracked a nervous smile. The cackling teenager spluttered, tears springing to his eyes. “Bloods, that kick hurt. Can’t even laugh.” He looked at me, still grinning. “You have the worst luck, y’know that?”

“What?” I asked. “Just because we fought doesn’t mean I can’t ask her out!”

The girl in question laughed. “You just nearly broke my nose!”

“Pudgy actually did break my nose!”

“Pudgy?!” she snorted. “You mean Gab?”

“You’ve met Gabs!” Blake exclaimed nearly simultaneously.

“Well, I forgot!” I protested. “He doesn’t say very much, okay?”

The two of them giggled for a few moments as I scowled. Eventually, Erin sighed.

“I’m flattered, Orv, but I like girls.”

“Huh,” I said, and then everything hit me. Suddenly I couldn’t stop laughing.