As the thugs rummaged to their vehicles, Ted grunted. "You better run!" He shouted after them, as they sped off, a couple of them throwing curses his way. Ted walked over to the old man, whom was dusting himself off, about to ask him if he was okay and if they stole anything from him - but was cut off by getting lectured by the older man about it being dangerous to deal with the thugs, as he was climbing into the drivers seat, Ted grunted. "The cops are barely any better than the thugs." His words were venomous.

"I didn't see anyone else coming in to help you there. Don't say thank you or anything." Ted said, as he turned around to pick up his cap that had been knocked off his head in the fight. 
As he bent down his side hurt, as he held it he felt something warm come over his hand, looking at it, his fingers were drenched in  wine red liquid. The adrenaline had worn off and the young man fell to one knee. "Damn.." He said under his breath, the pain washing over him.