Avarice

By K. Marshall

In the broken city of Risteys, leaving was never an option, and a local, pickpocket named Penn has become accustom to never knowing what was on the other side of the guarded fences. But when three mysterious students from the neighboring city of Avarice come through the gates, everything begins to change for the worst for Penn. That is until he meets Sennett.

Penn must choose between his home and his family, or the inevitable destruction that comes with knowing an Avarice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491803042

K. Marshall

The author lives in Massachusetts, writing books and attending school full time. She loves reading and her dog, and spends her days swimming and painting. She hopes to travel the world someday, to draw as well as write about her adventures.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Penrose

I walked out the front door, wearing a black suit coat, a black dress shirt, black dress pants, and a silver tie. My hair was combed back. I looked like a businessman, not a pickpocket. The night air was cool and dry, sending a chill up my spine. It was past ten o’clock, and although it was against the law, everyone was out; the East End as usual was gambling and partying. I looked out into the dark abyss of the forest through the fence, past the guards, a few scattered patches of moonlight in the blank dark. I shivered. The forest was a primeval place of rabid animals. I would never go out there, no exceptions. I had seen the vicious animals—I was fine in Risteys. Far from the fence, far from the animals, I was protected, at least from the animals. My fragmented memories of childhood consisted of broken glass, ivy, and missing neighbors in the forest, but they were from the West End, so it was ok.

I walked down the road, moving toward the East End, the wealthy part of Risteys. Risteys consisted of—as far as I knew—the homes of the wealthiest, richest, most elite families in the western hemisphere, and it attracted many envying but curious tourists.

It was also a well-protected place where the common severe storms rarely flood the city, and getting mauled by wild animals was uncommon. But there were always more storms. We had at least four major a year. But we didn’t have to worry about the power going out, because electricity was only for the East End. I don’t know how they managed it with our extreme weather, but they always lived large. They had everything the West End lacked; they were perfectly fine with their food and clothing, while the rest of us ate canned food every day.

But the unsuspecting rich were my survival. I approached the city center and looked for expensive jewelry, watches, and wallets. The antique streetlights made the damp pavement and the overgrown ivy shine like glass. I ignored the faces and the careless laughter. I couldn’t hear them, but their faces always annoyed me. I spotted a stout man, a watch on his wrist; diamond cufflinks on his jacket. His side jacket pocket had a bulge where his wallet was. I smiled to myself. He was perfect. I tossed a ring toward him. He bent down to pick it up, and I rushed up beside him, tugging the wallet out of his jacket, and slipped it into my back pocket.

I’m so sorry sir! I’m proposing to my girlfriend and I’m a little nervous, I lied with a genuine smile, holding out my hand for the man to hand me the cheap ring I got out of a cereal box.

Oh how lovely! the man said.

Yes, we came to Risteys just for the occasion, I smiled.

It is a very nice city, we came from Europe to be here, The man said cheerfully.

Such a long way! Well, I must be going- I said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. The man took my hand, and I unclipped the watch, and pulled the cufflink, both tumbling in to my hand. I tapped the man’s shoulder like an old friend with my other hand, distracting him, and put the cufflink and watch into my pocket. Nice meeting you, sir, I said, pulling the other cufflink from his sleeve, and walking away. I walked by a woman, the top of her purse closed only by a single snap button. I bumped into her.

I’m so sorry ma’am, I said cheerfully, tugging the wallet from her purse, and proceeding down the road.

It was an unusually easy night. Normally, people would be more careful, maybe even catch on to my intentions, but tonight was different. It assured food and clothes for my family for a few weeks. The cufflink alone was enough for a few days of edible food.

I walked back toward the West end, where the poverty-stricken like myself dwelled, constantly struggling to survive. There was a prominent difference the second you stepped foot in the West End. There was no more elegance or ivy. No more antique streetlights or elaborate colored glass. Only broken down homes, pulled up pavement, and broken windows.

I saw the familiar dark house on the left, with cardboard over one of the windows. I walked up to the door, pushing it open. There was a small square table in the center, a small chair next to it. It had a roll of bread on it, next to a man. He was sitting in the chair, his face sunken and tired. He had blue eyes; light and airy like the sky, and an auburn colored hair, clean cut in contrast to his messy attire. The man looked up, and smiled under the dark shadows of his eyes.

Penrose! He said happily.

Hello, Emery. I greeted my best friend with a small smile. Easy night, you should be out there.

Emery shook his head. I’m alright.

You need to eat.

Emery pointed to the loaf of bread. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. What have you got?

Two cufflinks, a watch, and two wallets.

Wow, very easy day. Well, he’s down there, he’s not busy or anything.

Ok, I hesitated a moment. I’ll see you later, I nodded and walked out the door. I stopped, and turned around. Emery?

Yes, Penn, He sighed.

Lunch, my treat, tomorrow. You look like your on death’s door.

Emery smiled, letting a ghost of a laugh escape his torn lips. Shut up and go see Zaire before you get caught.

Zaire was a thief, a powerful thief, who would buy what you stole and sell it in other towns so you wouldn’t get caught yourself. I needed to sell to Zaire. Too many locals knew my face and my financial status to be selling diamond cufflinks around here.

I walked in the room, Zaire sitting on his couch, petting a tiny dog that looked like an oversized hamster. It was blind in one eye and its name was Winky. Zaire wasn’t a stereotypical thief. He didn’t have henchmen and a black leather jacket and sunglasses—he was pretty naïve and even innocent, and gave people loans with no pressure to pay him back. He was a hero to the West End, and most families survived because of him. Zaire looked up, the dog jittering up and down on its miniature legs.

Penrose! He called cheerfully, standing up How are you?

Fine, easy day downtown. Thought I’d drop by to unload. Zaire clapped his hands in delight.

What does Caycen need now?

Clothes, so he’ll stop wearing mine.

Ahh. The financial downfall of raising your brother, He smiled cheekily. Well what have you got?

I emptied my pockets, placing the two cufflinks and watch in his hands, and exposing the wallets.

You know I like my clients to keep cash from wallets.

I nodded gratefully, opening the wallet. I gasped. Two-hundred dollars, I said quietly.

Wow. Lots of clothes for Caycen, Zaire winked.

The other wallet had fifty dollars.

I’ll give you four hundred for the cufflinks and the watch.

I looked up astonished, my brain not processing what he just said.

What?

Zaire pulled a roll of twenties out, and counted them out for me, his fat fingers rolling over the crisp green corners. Four-hundred fair and square. If you don’t want to catch suspicion and want to break them here, feel free. He smiled, slapping my back. Be happy boy. That keeps you off the street stealing for a month or two.

I smiled, shoving the money into my pocket. Thanks! I don’t think I’ve ever even held this much money. I said, fanning it out in my hands.

Well go enjoy it, He said, and I walked down the dark road.

I decided to stop by the modest coffee shop that had recently become my favorite hangout. The food was low-priced and it was always mouth-watering. The only negative aspect was that it was in the East End. I opened the glass door, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting into my face. I got in line, counting my change behind a wealthy, chunky woman with a mink stole on. I brushed against her accidentally and apologized, continuing to quietly count my change. She spun around, and pointed her fat finger in my face.

This West End trash just tried to rob me! She squealed, backing up. I wasn’t surprised, but was furious all the same.

I did not! Get your coffee and get your fat ass out of my way, I growled.

She slapped me, but she was too dainty to cause any pain.

Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to please either order or leave the facility, The manager behind the counter said.

You would honestly take the tramp’s word over mine, She said, astonished.

Penrose has been an honest customer here since he was a child, I in no way believe he would try to steal from you.

The fat lady stomped her foot and spun around, stomping past me and out the door. Anywhere else I would’ve been thrown out, but I came here almost every day. Plus the manager, Knox, was my