Beat was surprised to find that his first impulse was not his long honed survival instinct of running.  Not in this moment, not after his decision, and the music he'd made.<br/><br/>The woman with the camera made him ponder it but, as much as he admired the green, he didn't really fancy the idea of fleeing through overgrown mini woods.  Better to hop fences and keep blacktop under his feet.<br/><br/>Beat gave the oncoming hoods a level stare.  Standing straight backed, he clicked the sticks together, sending things rattling all around the punks.<br/><br/>Then he dropped to one knee and through a rat-a-tat-tat on the ground and a cone burst out from him.  The waves were wide, intending to slam into them, hurl them off their feet, and drop them on the ground wondering what hit them.