It wasn't the nearest deputy who spoke. It was the other one, who was older and looked mean. The one nearest her looked quite young.
"Madam, you may not use this sidewalk," he said stiffly.
She staggered into his arms. "Oh, officer, I've been hurt, hurt," she moaned.
The young copy awkwardly dropped his billy club and caught her as she staggered into his arms.
"She's got a head wound!" cried the young one to the other.
"She's got a beautiful ass!" sang out the other. He pounded over to them. "Hey, sister, you're crazy trying to find tricks on a night like this."
The two of them were not regular police but sheriffs deputies, dressed in gray. The young one held her gingerly as if not knowing what to do. The mean one came up and leered at her, taking her costume, boots, sexy pantyhose, skirt and satin blouse.
"My head hurts," moaned Donna.
"Shall we call an ambulance?" asked the nervous young one.
"Shit, Tom, you can't hurt a whore. Not in the head. Lemme see." He scooped her out of Tom's arms. He stared into her eyes that she made intentionally unfocused. He said: "Doll, what time is it?"
"Huh?" said Donna.
"Yipped out of her head. Probably drugs or booze, not the bump."
"Bud, I think we should call-"
"Hell, no, we won't. Lieutenant would skin us to waste the manpower on a whore." He lifted her bandage. Witsy had prepared her for this, scratching her forehead with sandpaper so it looked ugly and was swollen.
"She got it all right," said Bud. "We better give her first-aid." His hand had slipped down her back to hold her buttocks firmly. Donna felt his fingers dig into her butt.
"How?" asked Tom.
"I'll take her around in the back of the bank and use my first-aid kit."
Donna's heart thumped. The tough deputy already had a hard-on rubbing his belly on hers as he held her ass firmly.
Witsy made her run then, as planned. Both officers were huddled around the supposed whore. There were no other police close by. There were a few running people, but the roar of sound came from a block away.
Witsy slipped in behind the cops, pulled open the door of the bank and skittered the bomb across the floor. An accommodating black janitor had seen to it that the bank front door would be open. Donna was glad they weren't going to steal money as well as use the bomb.
"Hey, you," called the young deputy, whirling.
"Bomb!" sang Witsy cheerfully as she turned and ran back the way she had come. "Move out, partner!"
"Holy Jesus!" cried Bud. His grip on Donna tightened. The young one, Tom, cried out and hit the ground. Donna tried to tear loose from Bud, but he wouldn't let her go. WHAM!
Donna's ears were stunned by the explosion. The ground seemed to rock. She and Bud, locked together, staggered behind the lamppost which protected them from the flying glass. Everything was chaos and madness to Donna's whirling senses. The one thing she knew that filled her with greatest terror was that the cop held on to her. She was captured.
"You bitch, you'll go to prison for life for this," grunted Bud. He had a few superficial cuts from the glass and glared into her face, furious.
His partner rose from the sidewalk and said mildly. "Not too much damage, I wouldn't think. Not a big bomb." He seemed unscathed. In his shock he seemed as calm as one of Donna's professors lecturing in class. He stood there peering into the bank.
A running ball of fury exploded on Bud's back and Donna crashed to the street. Then Donna felt herself pulled up and Witsy said. "Run. Run like hell, kid." She was off, dragging Donna with her. Donna's legs began to work. She could run in the miniskirt all right, but the boots slowed her down. They hadn't thought of that.
The mean deputy, Bud, was right after them, cursing. "Get you, you bitches!"
Donna came out of her stunned state. "He'll catch us. I can't run fast enough," she gasped.
Witsy looked desperately over her shoulder. The deputy gained on them.
"We gotta do something," said Witsy. M
"He said I'd get life in prison," moaned Donna "He felt me up. He was going to-take me behind bank. Maybe-fuck me."
"Yeah," said Witsy. "Okay. We've got to break up. It's only him. Other one's still dazed. He can't chase us both."
She gripped Donna's arm. "Don't go back to the house, Donna. Find Kark's van. It's a block up the street. Hide in that."
She shoved Donna free and started off in a different direction.
"What if he comes for me?" wailed Donna.
"He won't. I dropped the bomb," said Witsy. She dived off towards the billowing smoke.
She was right. The deputy cursed. Donna was the easy capture but the tan girl was the one he wanted. He cut away from Donna and headed after Witsy…
Donna crawled into the van, exhausted. She felt glad it was over and doubtly glad that she hadn't been arrested. Also nobody had been hurt by Witsy's bomb, and it was over. Gratefully she slammed the van door and collapsed on one of the sleeping bags. It was dark, quiet, safe in here after the wild street action. Like a cave in the back of the van. She could faintly hear people outside running and shouting and she shivered in her pleasure to have found sanctuary. Poor Witsy! If only she'd been able to save her friend.
"I got hit by a cop," said a new voice. "Just like in the Sixties. I was right in the middle of it, and I got hit by a cop."
A flashlight went on in the darkness and a startled Donna found herself face to face with Earl Minton, the white student she knew, that Witsy said had helped Kark. He looked as dazed as she must look, and there was an ugly bump on his forehead. Broken skin and blood. But he looked ecstatic.
"Hi, Donna. You in this, too? Listen, just like my brother back in the Vietnam War riots, I was out in it, you know. And I got hit in the head bx a cop. We trashed a store. Me-right in the middle of it."
"I helped plant a bomb," said Donna. "Jeez, what would the folks back home think? We must be crazy."
"After he cut me down, I was half-zonked," said Earl. "But I fought like a tiger. He arrested me and tried to drag me off. But I fought loose. Technically I'm still under arrest." He seemed awed by his own heroics.
"I think I am too," said Donna. "A cop tried to screw me. It was wild."
"Man, this is really educational," said Earl. "This is really learning outside the classroom. Wait till I tell my brother."
"We're really concerned college students," said Donna. "Right in the thick of it."
Earl seemed to see her for the first time. "Donna, you sure look sexy."
"I did a whore," she said proudly. "They really believed me."
They sat there comparing notes, trying to come down off their highs. Outside there were still shouts and the sound of running feet. Occasionally someone bumped against the walls of the van. But nothing happened until suddenly the rear door thrust open and Witsy piled in, looking all fussed.
She slammed the door and locked it behind her. "Jesus! What a night. I've just been fucked by a cop."
"You got away!" cried Donna happily.
"Sure," said Witsy. "No problem. They could never convict me. The cop knew that. Bud, that's what he called himself. I let him catch me up an alley behind the liquor store."
She slumped against the rear wall of the van. The interior was totally sealed out from the front seat by a section of plywood, so they couldn't see out nor anyone see in. Even the driver up front couldn't see into the back of the van. Witsy looked messed up all right. Her male pants were only half-buttoned and her shirt was loose. There were smudges on her face.
"I figured I could deal with Bud by sucking his cock," she laughed. "My first white cock. Why not? I needed to soothe him. Sumbitch let me suck him hard and then tossed me up on top of a low shed and took down my pants. My God. People coming down the alley every once in a while. All lighted up from the fire. And this guy humping my tan ass, right there in the alley. Nobody paid any attention, what a night."