Daylight had faded when Jane reached the parking lot level. Head down. She turned into the cinderblock corridor, a group hung around up ahead. Blocking her way, their hoodies pulled up, hiding their faces in shadow. She heard whimpering and sobbing pleas, from others off to the side.
Someone came up behind her, another to her right she had not noticed. Her heart started to race.
"Let me past," Jane said, her head down, trying to sound confident. The whimpering became screaming up ahead. A slap, and it quieted.
"Come on, little lady," one of them said, his shoulder pushing her into the wall. The thugs so close she could smell their breath. She was hemmed in more coming towards her, time running out. She pushed the one to her right, catching him off guard, giving her just enough space to squeak past and make a run. Another laughed as he quickly reached out, grabbing her. Wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug, she squirmed and kicked, as he effortlessly lifted her off the ground, slamming her into the wall. A heavy, thick hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing to get her attention.
"Boys, run away," a squeaky female voice said. Heavy work boots thumped on the concrete. Holding Jane, he turned to the sound. Several others were already moving towards the woman. The first lunged toward her, a click, a snap, a loud crack-zap, the one thug spasmed as he hit the ground. Two more laughed at the five-foot-tall woman, in an old baseball jacket, with the knit waistband stretched to its limit, mousy brown hair cut short.
Jane squirmed and kicked, the thug focused back on her, squeezing her throat, and slapping her to stay still. More noise from behind, he looked back to see. Two hoods had circled the short, pudgy woman, a crackling of electricity echoed from the rod she held. She smiled, waving them forward. They rushed her. Bending her right knee, she kicked out her left leg with speed and precision. The flat of her boot, jamming into one thug's knee, a satisfying crack, and he fell to the ground screaming. The rod jammed into the left thug's stomach, the smell of burning hair. He shook violently and fell to the ground, paralyzed. The rest took off.
Jane pulled her shirt down, wiping her hands. She looked at the three on the ground. Her jaw hurt, and she wiped the blood away from her mouth. Why couldn't I do that, she thought.
"Help me with the whiney one," the woman ordered Jane. The girl sat sobbing, looking up at them, her clothes torn, dark purple blotches blooming on her face.
"Bruises, you're fine," the woman said, checking her over, and walking away.
"Hey, wait, you can't leave me, how'd you do that?" Jane said, holding the sobbing girl.
"Yea, I can, I did my part, now do yours," the woman said, staring at her. "Predator or prey, your choice."
YOU ARE READING
Predator or Prey
Short StoryA woman exits a parking garage to her car and is accosted by a group of thugs. An odd woman comes through the same corridor, sees what is going on, and immediately tells the boys to leave. They don't and decide she is the next victim. She might be s...