Emotionally Charged Read Online Free PDF Page A

around the corner and saw two guys beating on a third. They had him pressed to a wall, taking turns slugging him in the stomach. They called him names - homo, trailer trash - it was like high school but with more violence. The guy they beat didn’t struggle and I was worried they’d already gone too far. I tried to tap their emotions, get some strength, speed, something I could use.
    A cold emptiness crept over me instead. Maybe I wasn’t close enough? Damn it, how did this work? Their victim didn’t look well. I had to do something fast.
    Stepping into the alley, I took a position that shadowed me from the street lights and yelled. “Police. Stop what you’re doing.”
    All three jumped at my voice, and the emptiness cleared. A wave of anger, excitement and fear flowed off the attackers and I felt power build in me. Oh yes, I could do this.
    The two holding the third guy down blocked most of my view to him, but they all seemed about my age. The pair of bullies wore beanies, one blue, one red, probably sports teams but what would I know. They muttered between themselves then called out. “You’re no cop. Just get gone. You see nothing here.”
    I flexed an arm, feeling the strength in it. Part of me wanted to use it, but I tried to stay smart. The power was my safety net only. “Come on guys, just leave him alone. I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t think you want a witness here.”
    The beanie twins did that chin lift thing guys do when communicating without words. One kept a hold of their prey and the other stalked toward me. I took a step back out onto the main street to see if there was anyone else around, but it was empty. So I stepped back in and me and blue-beanie-boy squared off. Up close I could see he twitched and swayed slightly. He had a badly trimmed goatee and stunk of alcohol and bad teeth.
    “She’s just some skinny chick!” he called back to his mate. He laughed and turned away, telling me to go. He talked fast and every second word he spat was a swear word. I hated people that talked like that. No class.
    He headed back to his friend and I followed at his heels.
    “I’m not going to let you keep beating that guy.”
    “Don’t.” The grunt of opposition came from the guy against the wall. He slouched, as though he’d fall if red-beanie-boy’s hand on his shoulder didn’t pin him to the wall. Stringy hair fell over his face. His effort to talk earned him another fist in the stomach.
    “See, no one wants you around.” Blue-beanie-boy spun back at me and thrust out an arm to push me away. I sidestepped easily and he lost balance, diving forward after his arm and landing hard on the pavement.
    As he hit the ground I felt the force of his anger burst around him, accompanied by his loud swearing. I made an effort to absorb it all, like soaking in sunshine through my skin. I felt my body respond, every cell worked at perfect efficiency.
    He pushed himself back off the ground and dusted himself off. “That’s it, bitch!”
    He came at me swinging.
    I maneuvered around a street sign and his fist cracked on the metal instead. More swearing. I had no problem keeping away from him, drunk and uncoordinated as he was, but I was only making him angrier. I wanted them to back off and leave without me having to hurt anyone. Brilliantly, all I’d done was prove for a second time that one girl on her own isn’t enough to intimidate angry guys.
    After another bout of swearing, his friend let his victim go and came to join in. He didn’t stumble around like drunken blue-beanie. Backed into a wall, I lifted my fists to start fighting back.
    Down the street, a siren wailed. Perfect timing.
    “Oh yeah, and I called the cops before I spoke up. You ready to piss off yet?” I think their language had rubbed off on me.
    Their emotions changed to fear, and they finally took my advice. They bolted down the alley and off into the night.
    I took a few deep breaths and the siren passed by, revealing the red of