And she started tofightthe guy.
She stabbed her shoe’s stiletto heel backward into her attacker’s calf and drove it down into the top of his ankle, under the top of his boot. She was already swinging her elbow backward and caught him under his ribs, driving the air out of his diaphragm, as he reflexively reached for his bleeding foot.
The guy huffed all his air out of his lungs and reached to protect the soft area of his midsection, loosening his hold on her arm.
Dree might have looked like a ladylike little woman, as she was dressed in a curvy silhouette dress with girlie red-soled shoes. Anyone might have thought she was a vulnerable target, ripe for the picking, but Dree was a strong farm girl with a bushel of rowdy cousins and a nurse with a thorough understanding of anatomy.
Dree wrenched herself sideways and punched the guy in his face because she had been raised with older male cousins who liked to brawl.
His nose crunched under her knuckles.
Country life was not for the meek.
Dree grabbed the guy’s gray windbreaker jacket and jerked, spinning the wounded man around. When his back was to her, she kicked him in the butt with her sharp high heel.
He sprawled, probably scraping the heels of his hands and his chin on the cement. He scrambled to flee as she chased him a few steps.
Dree turned back to help Augustine because, again, she had aggressive cousins and they always fought in teams, as is fair.
The redheaded white guy who had grabbed Augustine first was already lying on the ground, out cold. Augustine was still grappling with the other two. He gripped one guy’s lapels with both fists and kicked backward, sending the other guy stumbling to the ground, gasping. Augustine yanked the one guy forward and drove the crown of his head into the other man’s face.
Blood streamed from the attacker’s nose, and his eyes rolled up in their sockets as he collapsed.
The last guy recovered from being kicked and, coughing, jumped at Augustine, knocking them both to the ground and closer to the white van on the street.
The guy in the van leaped into the fight, wrestled Augustine to his feet, and started forcing Augustine toward the van. Another guy scrambled out of the van’s passenger seat and joined the fray, grabbing Augustine’s arm so he couldn’t fight back.
Dree ran toward him, balling up her fists.No way. No freaking way.
Augustine was kicking and punching the guy with his free arm, his eyes wild and his gritted teeth bared.
The attackers had almost dragged him to the white van.
Dree was almost there.
Augustine saw that they were about to get him into the van, and he yelled a terrifying bellow, breaking his arm free of the guy hanging on it, and his arms were swinging wildly as he panicked. He pushed his heels into the ground, grabbed one guy, and hauled them both to the earth when Dree was almost to him, rolling over with the guy to put distance between himself and the van.
The bad guy was on top and reached his hands around Augustine’s throat.
He wasn’t watching Dree as she sprinted, so she planted one foot and landed a solid soccer kick to the side of the guy’s head. The force of her kick toppled him sideways. She wasn’t sure if she’d knocked him unconscious, or if Augustine’s hard jab to the other side of his head was the one that did it. Blood trickled out of his ear, running down his chalky skin and into his brown hair.
The remaining guys ran for the van, giving up.
Dree stood with her fists raised, watching for anybody else to come at them.
Augustine vaulted to his feet and grabbed her hand, wheeling her around to throw her into the back seat of the hotel’s waiting car, and jumped in after her. He pulled the door closed.
The driver was already in his seat.
The tires squealed as he pulled away into traffic.
Augustine was asking her, “Are you hurt? You were magnificent, but did they hurt you?”
Dree was busy evaluating Augustine for head trauma or other impact damage from the fall. Her fingers traced along his scalp, feeling for mushy spots, but he seemed intact. She manipulated his shoulders, elbows, and other joints, looking for bone fractures, sprains, or strains. She asked him, “Did you sustain any blows to the head? Are you feeling dizzy?” She held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up? Track this.” She moved her fingers up and then to the side.“How many goddamn fingers, Auggie?”
Augustine grabbed her around her shoulders, hugging her to his chest. “I’m fine, and if you are this efficient, then I assume you’re all right. We’re okay.” He called up to the driver, “Maximum security at the hotel when we arrive. Underground entrance.”
The driver turned around, and his eyes were so wide with fear that his cream-colored sclera were visible all the way around his black irises. “Are you two okay? Should we go to the hotel or a hospital?”
