Bennie screamed. The man clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the wall.
She kicked him in the crotch. His eyes flared in pain. His hand fell off her mouth. The knife plunged down, cutting her shoulder.
Bennie screamed again. The man punched her in the mouth. Her head exploded in pain. She reeled backwards, dropping her purse.
“You’re dead, bitch!” the man said.
Bennie fell, then she remembered. She stuck her hand inside her purse, found her gun with fumbling fingers, and fired through the leather.
Crak! The gun went off. The purse exploded like a bomb. Pain shot through Bennie’s hand. She scrambled to her feet, backing away.
The man grabbed his thigh, which spurted an arc of fresh blood. He dropped the knife.
“Help!” someone shouted, from behind her. “Help, somebody! That guy’s attacking that girl!”
Bennie whirled around to see another man, hustling toward her. He wanted to help, but she had to get Alice. She took off, running away.
“Miss, stop!” the man shouted. “Stop!”
Bennie ran down one street then the next, not knowing where she was going, not daring to stop. She veered around a corner, heading downhill toward the business district. She darted across a narrow street. A car swerved to miss her, then a minivan. She kept running. A taxi shot out of nowhere, screeching to a halt.
HONK! went the horn, but she kept going, back on Bay Street.
The BSB bank was straight ahead.
Bennie took a right turn and ran hard.