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The next day dawned on Allison, now out of her Red Herring getup, waking up groggily in her motel room. She had successfully avoided being captured during the night, it seemed—perhaps the crazy girl Evelyn wasn’t quite so tenacious after she’d unwittingly brought Jumpcut directly into her base.

In any case, it was time for Allison to settle into the local scene, and that meant seeking out what she knew: the local gang of youth miscreants, which Jumpcut and White Rabbit had so helpfully identified the night before.

“Oh, yeah, watch out for the Punkheads,” they had said, “they like to hang out here, here, and over here, around these times. Here’s a description of what they look like so you know to avoid them.”

Sure, there had been other bits in there about local cape teams, but it was almost as if the pair had wanted her to run in with the Punkheads. She entertained the notion for minute before dismissing it. They didn’t know nearly enough about her past to put that connection together.

She left her costume carefully tucked away in her suitcase, and headed out to explore the city. She placed an emphasis on those places that the capes had mentioned, wandering around the areas in search of any teens giving off especially punk-ish vibes.

It wasn’t long until she found them, either. It was a group of four teens, ranging from slightly younger to slightly older than herself, hanging around in the parking lot outside of a corner convenience store. They looked like just the type.

As she walked up, the youngest of the bunch took notice of her, stepping forward.

“Ey, sweetcheeks! What’s happenin’?” He had his hands in his pockets, taking a very casual stance. He wasn’t too much younger than her, but it showed in his short stature.

Allison stopped a few paces back, taking up a casual stance of her own. “I hear there are some cool crowds running around here. You guys know anything about the Punkheads?”

The short boy gave a wide grin, looking back at his buddies. “You’re looking at ’em, hun. Name’s Dylan.”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Allison. This is it? I thought you guys were kinda a big deal.”

Dylan waved her question away with a hand. “Nah, nah, we’re just hangin’ before the meetup later today. Trying to get someone to pick us up some beer when they go in, y’know. Casual stuff.”

“Mhm.” Allison was already turning toward the convenience store. “Hold tight, I can get that for you.”

She could hear Dylan sputtering as she walked off, calling out something to the effect of ‘No, wait!’ or ‘You’re gonna get caught!’. She held herself in a higher estimation than that.

The bell on the door tinkled as she pushed her way inside, and the clerk at the desk nodded at her as she came in. She ignored him, wandering around toward the back of the store. From out of one of the windows, she could see Dylan and his crew watching her intently, not nearly so casual as they had been a few moments ago.

Allison had stolen a lot of things in her time. It wasn’t too much work to sneak a 40-oz into a pocket of her overly-large jacket. It wasn’t too much work to sneak in a second or a third, either. She kept tabs on the clerk as she walked around, trying to make sure she wasn’t pulling too much attention. She ultimately decided not to try for the fourth beer, and moved on out to the exit.

It was only on her way out that she realized what was beneath the counter. Rows of cigarette cartons, loaded into shelving with a glass front, but no back. She didn’t smoke, but the haul would be legendary. She couldn’t let it pass.

She faked a trip, stumbling into a display of snacks and causing it to tumble, sending bags of chips and corn nuts spilling everywhere on the floor.

“Hey!”

The clerk was up in a second, rushing around to where she was pulling herself up. As soon as he rounded the desk, bending low to start picking things up, she dipped past him like a bolt of lightning. Step, step, round the desk, step, reach in and swipe. She grabbed an armful of the cigarettes, whatever she could grab, and planted her other arm on the desk to vault over it before the clerk could catch up.

Except that as soon as she planted the hand, she could feel a vice-like grip closing around it. The clerk was already back behind her, and was letting out some kind of strangled, unintelligible noise as he attempted to haul her back from where she was already half sitting on the counter.

She struggled wildly against him, letting out a loud cry of her own. “Help! Someone help, he’s grabbing me! Heeeelp!”

He seemed caught off guard by her yelling, and with a rough twist and a pull, she managed to wrench her arm free, losing her balance a bit as she tilted back along the counter. At the same moment, the door to the store slammed open with the small tingling of a bell, and the four Punkheads crowded inside.

Dylan stopped as he stepped in, assessing the situation quickly. He tapped on one of the other boys on the shoulder, a larger, overweight kid who had at least six inches and seventy-five pounds on him.

“Pat, grab all the shit you can carry and go! You two, help him!”

He hadn’t finished speaking before he was running toward the counter, was the clerk was attempting to regain his grip on Allison before she could get up. With Dylan rushing him, he changed targets, swinging a punch directly toward Dylan’s chest.

Dylan dipped to the side, grabbing the clerk’s fist and pulling it back, using the man’s momentum to send him sprawling flat on his face. It was all the time that he or Allison needed. She spun around to step off the counter, taking her haul with her. Dylan scooped up what she had missed or dropped, bundling it into his arms as he slid over the counter as well, calling out into the store.

“Let’s go, now! Out, out, out!”

And with that, he was sprinting. Allison pushed her way through the door after him, and it wasn’t long until his three friends were bursting their way out of the shop as well, feet pounding heavily on the sidewalk as they made a break for it. One of the taller ones pulled ahead, and Allison ended up running right next to Dylan, with one groupie behind them and Pat bringing up the rear, struggling to keep pace with everyone else.

The tall kid led the way, jumping from the street to an alley, to eventually another alley and a street beyond that. It was only after a half-dozen changes that the group began to slow, pulling together into a circle and all breathing heavily.

Dylan clapped Allison on the shoulder, speaking between panting breaths.

“Hey, girl, you have some serious spunk. Hah.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “Good shit back there. Good shit. Hey—” he looked up, meeting her eyes, “you wanna head to the clubhouse with us? You’ve earned it. Just a bit further down the alley there.” He tilted his head back toward where the alley wound around a corner.

Allison nodded, her heart still beating too quickly to let her formulate a full sentence. “Oh yeah. If you guys do things like that all the time, then definitely. Lead the way.”

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