I stood very still, not wanting to anger the attacker any more than he already was, and trying to think of something to do so I could save Richie. I know, I was the one in danger right now, but Richie was too. If he takes one step, and I die, then the attacker will run away, and it'll look like Richie murdered me. When, really, he had been trying to protect me. And if I made a move, Richie would probably die in exchange. Or maybe we would both die. But I had to try something. So, very slowly and carefully, I reached my foot behind me to search for the knife. Richie noticed, and made eye contact for one second exactly, then focused on the attacker not wanting to give anything away. "Just let the kid go, I'm sure he didn't do anything to you-" "Stay out of it, old man! This kids mine now, so back off, and I'll leave here without hurting anyone." My foot hit the knife, and I stomped on it, the slid it closer to me. I was getting out of this, I told myself, and going back to the others. So, I head-butted the attacker, picked up the knife, and pushed the man into Richie, who held him tightly and still. I dialed the cops, told them what had happened, and they were on the scene in about ten minutes. They didn't sit too far away.
*****
I was almost on my way home, when some shouting broke out, and a serious, flame-like pain hit my shoulder. I cupped it with my other hand, and knelt to the ground, wincing and breathing heavily. It hurt like hell, I tell you. A cop came over, and said something, but I couldn't hear him through the ringing in my ears. Next thing I knew, he was hauling me to his car, and everything was gone.