Drape, all 185lbs of him, flew through the air, until his head cracked against the wall, and he fell in a heap to the marble floor of the train-station. Faith stood on the other side of the terminal, her hand outstretched, staring dumbfounded, mouth agape.
She looked from Drape’s bleeding form to her hand and then back.
“How in the hell!” she whispered.
More footfalls. This time they were running. She made to run, until her eyes caught a glimpse of Shan Doe at a jog coming towards her. In any other circumstance, the large girl running through the terminal would have been funny; but fear and shock destroyed all mirth.
“K! Are you alright?” Shan shouted.
“Shh.. Shut up, dude,” Faith crouched and pointed at Drapes limp form, “I don’t….”
“What did you do?” Shan stood over the pimp. She bent down to feel for a pulse, “Dude he’s fuckin’ dead!”
“Jesus Christ!” Faith paced back and forth, looking up, then back to her hands.
Shan came to her side, “Stop!” she held Faith still, “What happened.”
“I pushed him!”