I Am A Flyer

Found You

"Thanks," Jett murmured as another plate full of food was set before him. He didn't waste any time, digging into the mashed potatoes with great gusto. The four men that were ordered to keep an eye on him watched in slight wonder and amazement. This was the fourth plate of food that they'd given him.

Who knew that such a small kid could eat so much?

Jett's pace slowed down, though, and by the time he was finished, he was stuffed. Setting down the fork, he wiped his hands on the brown pair of pants that some guy had given him. They were too big, as was the the plain black sweater, but Jett was just grateful he didn't have to wear torn-up Troit stuff.

"Thank you," he said again, a little shyly. He looked up at the four men watching him, feeling somewhat uneasy. At least they weren't those frightening flyer people.

"No problem, kid," one of the men smiled kindly. He had introduced himself earlier as Zak. He had warm brown eyes and wild blond hair. "I'm happy to help you out, even though some other people aren't." He threw a mock glare at one of the other men – a young, dark-haired, dark-skinned man in his twenty's.

He was called Gant, and he refused to speak to Jett, opting to glare stonily at him with a hard expression on his angular features. Gant didn't respond to Zak's goading; instead, his eyes seemed to narrow a margin as he gave Jett the death glare.

It was making Jett nervous, but if he kept reminding himself that Gant was nowhere as scary as Raven had been, he was able to ignore it. Kind of.

"What now?" He timidly questioned, focusing his eyes on Zak. Out of them all, Zak seemed to be the friendliest.

"Well," Zak shrugged. "You're fed, cleaned up, rested - " he smirked here, making Jett blush slightly in embarrassment. When their doctor (who could hardly be called a doctor) had attempted to treat him, he ended up fainting. It was because he had been so exhausted and worn out, but it was still embarrassing, because he passed out just as she was approaching him with a needle. And now everyone thought he was terrified of needles. But he wasn't. The only thing that absolutely terrified him was Raven.

"-And Jerrick wants us to stay with you until he figures out a way to get you out of the city." Zak pulled out a chair, and plopped down across the table from Jett. "So...that might take a while."

"Especially when we're about to go to war," mumbled Pierre, who continued to lean against the wall wearily. He was the oldest of the four.

"War?" Jett looked over at Pierre.

"It what we gangs do," Leo said. He was big, well-muscled, and very serious. Jett didn't know what to think of him. "We gotta defend our turf – whenever some other gang tries to take over, we gotta fight to defend ourselves."

"But why?" Jett didn't quite get what they were saying. "I mean, what's the point of having gangs, and trying to take the other over? In the end, isn't it just useless fighting?"

He shouldn't have said that.

It became very, very quiet. Then next thing he heard was faint growl, and before he knew it, Gant was there in his face, his long, thin fingers wrapped around Jett's neck. Jett went wide-eyed, and slightly blue in the face, as Gant glared at him with a horrible, enraged anger.

"Shut up," he hissed, his fingers slowly tightening. "Just shut up!"

"Gant!" Zak exclaimed from somewhere far away. Jett could barely hear him. It seemed that everything was going slightly fuzzy. Maybe it was because he couldn't seem to breathe. Hmmm, nah, that couldn't be it. It was Gant's fault. Why was Gant choking the life out of him? Surely the -