At the pitiful man's cry, Al turned her attention away from his attacker and the woman who'd stopped her attack.  She watched a figure shrouded in the new uniform of youth, a hoodie, walk by, seemingly unaware.  Al started for the man, brushing past the young woman in the hooded sweatshirt and felt a chill prickle her skin, the hairs on her arms standing on end.  It could just be the fact that she was drenched to the bone or it might have been more.<br/><br/>Al moved to watch the street, her back to the wall as she squatted near the fallen man's head.  She reached out to him, trying to make him lie still, roll to his back so she could see the damage.<br/><br/>Headlights played over the quartet, the hooded girl having gone into the bar.  Al looked up at the car, unable to see who was driving or what sort of car it was since she was blinded by the headlights.<br/><br/>She turned her attention back to the man, managing to get a good look and gasped, standing up abruptly.<br/><br/>"Hell and damnation," she breathed out, eyes moving to the woman who had done this.  "Bitch," she muttered.  "I"m calling the cops.  Don't let her go," Al said.<br/><br/>She raced back to the bar, skidding and almost going down when she pounded into the barroom, her soaked shoes slipping on the floor.  Al skidded, hopping onto the bar to grab the phone behind the counter and dial 9-1-1.<br/><br/>She looked up as the man started talking about noise, then plugged her ear so she could hear the phone.  Is it feeding time at the zoo? she wondered as the emergency number rang too long for her tastes.