Resistance

Untitled Part 7

Scott was just done paying for his groceries when he cast a glance across the road towards the gas station and saw four relatively buff guys harassing Gary the attendee. Heart skipping a beat in his chest, he left the grocery bags where they were and ran out to help.

"Hey!" he cried, once close enough, and the four guys looked over at him. "What's going on here?" Scott continued. "Leave the man alone! He hasn't done you anything."

In his pocket he had a firm grip on his phone in case things got out of control, which, to be honest was more likely than the alternative.

"Yeah? And what are you going to do to stop us?" one of the men asked, taking a step towards him. Scott bit his lip, thinking.

"What do you want?" he eventually asked, trying to keep eye contact with the nearest guy.

The four exchanged a glance and began laughing unpleasantly.

"What do you think, flagpost?" One of them snickered. "Money."

"You don't happen to have some, do ya?" a third one said taking a step closer to Scott and eyeing him hungrily. In that moment Scott realized they weren't dealing with regular muggers. These guys... there was something wrong with them. Scott stepped back as the guy took another step towards him.

"Look, we don't want any trouble." He said, giving the situation a brief overlook. However way he looked at it they were four against two, and these four men seemed much more accustomed to combat than either him or Gary.

The guy closest to him grinned, revealing a row of poorly maintained teeth.

"Well that's convenient..." he said, laughing. "You see neither do we. So if you'll just do as we say, and don't try any funnybusiness I'd say we have a fair chance at getting through this whole shebang with as little fuss as possible."

Scott's jaw locked as he eyed his options. There really didn't appear they had much of a choice. He couldn't see any way past the fact that they were twice as many.

In that moment the sound of a carhorn split the air and Scott jumped and turned to pinpoint the noise. Over by his car stood Gary, with a hand through the driver-side window. In his other hand he had a heavy-duty crowbar.

Scott grew cold inside as he saw the young, and fairly frail-looking gas station attendee swing the crowbar towards one of the four. He hit the man square in the face and the guy slumped over on the ground, a trickle of blood seeping from his temple.

For a moment nobody moved. The three men simply stared at their fallen ally. Then – simultaneously – they all looked to Gary, who readied his crowbar for another swing.

Two of the three, advanced on the younger man, but the third one, Scott noticed lingered, pulling something out from inside his jacket. A gun.

In a moment of sheer terror, Scott looked around for something to use as a weapon. He grabbed a mop sitting in a bucket of dirty water by one of the gaspumps and headed over to the armed man. Luckily he stood with his back to Scott, checking the contents of the gun, otherwise this plan might not have worked.

Scott hoisted the mop over the man's head and pulled back. The long narrow rod lodged itself under the guy's chin and the guy dropped the gun, trying to pull himself free.

In the meantime over by the other pumpset one of the guys had gotten hold of Gary's crowbar and the other kicked the young attendee to the ground with heavy force.

Scott flinched at the sound Gary made when he hit the ground and remained there.

With Scott's attention elsewhere, the man took the opportunity to wring the mop out of his hands and lunge it with great force at Scott's head.

The tall man collapsed to his knees, his vision swimming.

In the same moment a gunshot was heard and Scott froze.

"Nobody fucking move!" a gruff voice called. Scott glanced up to see the clerk from the grocery shop standing a little way away, aiming a shotgun in their direction.

"You three." The clerk jerked his weapon in the direction of the three men. "On the ground. Hands where I can see 'em."

The three intruders stood motionless, seemingly unsure of what to do with the newcomer. Scott took the opportunity to dive for the gun, still lying on the ground a few feet away.

He got to his feet, pointing the gun vaguely in the direction of the men.

"I'd do as he say if I were you." He said. His hands were trembling slightly. He'd never wielded a gun before. It was heavier than he'd thought and a lot harder to aim. But he hoped none of the guys would actually make a run for it.

And luckily, it appeared none of them would. Slowly they knelt down on the ground, lifting their hands above their heads.

Still aiming his shotgun at the three, the clerk went over to Gary and helped him up.

"You okay, pal?" he asked. The young man managed a faint nod.

"Police is on their way." The clerk informed, looking over to Scott and giving him a faint nod of acknowledgement.

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