The Crisis

The first woman who was in her way didn't even see the flash of the gold buckle from the purse as it collided with her temple. Had Helaine stopped to inspect her victim's face further, she might have been quite amused to see the "MK" imprint left on the side of the woman's head, a deepening purple bruise beginning to develop around the letters like a hastily-done tattoo.

The next obstacle came in the form of two teenage boys, their nervous expressions indicating that they'd likely been sent by their parents. When they made attempts to push Helaine back behind the rest of the crowd, she took advantage of their reluctance and aimed swift, sharp kicks at the backs of their calves that left each boy doubled over, clutching his leg in agony. She'd picked a good day to wear her stilletos.

The last pair in front of Helaine presented a somewhat different challenge--a mother with a young infant in a stroller. Helaine stopped for a brief moment, considered what was at stake, and pushed her way forward with a purpose.

"I can't believe how crazy this is getting!" she shouted into the mother's ear, as the mob of people around them seemed to close in.

"It's nuts! We're fortunate to get here at 7am, I heard someone say they're probably going to run out in an hour or so..."

"Well," Helaine replied grimly, "Times like these, we need to do what it takes for family."

"I guess so, but even--hey, what are you doing?!"

Helaine watched as the stroller she'd pulled from the mother and pushed aside rolled steadily back into the produce aisle. The mother, temporarily shocked by the betrayal, raced after her child, hurling obscenities back at Helaine as she ran.

Helaine shrugged; experiences like this would toughen up the naive ones for the next crisis. She grabbed what she'd come for, and elbowed her way back out of the crowd.

"Double-bag these, please," she said to the cashier, placing down the 36-pack of Charmin UltraSoft.