'Squeek' Pearson had been hanging around the junction most of the day. Handing out newspapers and washing windscreens for tips wasn't bad work but it was getting late into the afternoon and he needed a meal and a bottle badly. Maybe even a dollar suck from one of the crack whores on his block. At thirty-two the short, stocky black man had been living off the streets most of his adult life. He had put on a little weight recently and had grown his matted hair down to his shoulders, a patched up Army reserve coat hung over his shoulders. Rattling his change bag Squeek grinned to himself. Yeah. Another hour of this shit and he would head over to the soup kitchen on the corner of Brooksdale for a bite to eat. The roads were quiet anyway and business had dried up.

Just as Squeek was about to pack up and leave he heard the sound of a powerful engine approaching at speed. The noise filled the street as a steady roar drawing closer and closer. Until a small, red sports car zipped around the corner towards him, braking hard at the lights with a screech and sending trails of smoke off the thick tires. Squeek whistled. It was a nice, new looking convertible with lush, cream leather interior and seats. The rims alone must have cost a packet. Cool as the car was, the Hobo's attention was quickly drawn to the young, white girl who was driving. She was in her late teens with long, dark hair that tumbled down her back and a fresh, sweet look about her. 'Cute' Squeek thought. Even from outside the car it was obvious she had an athletic body. His horny eyes rolled down her slender neck and over her round, big tits, displayed in a tight red sweater. A selection of bangles hung around her slight wrist and a pair of designer sunglasses sat up on her forehead. She was dressed like she had money. Probably a rich daddy back home. 'Britney Spears' blasting over her radio as she chatted enthusiastically into a tiny, pink mobile phone. All but ignoring the watching the horny black man as he picked up his bucket and wiper and walked towards the car.

Squeek was just about to dip his wiper when the car's horn blew. The shock nearly gave him a heart attack.

'Get the fuck out of here!' the girl snapped in a light, pretty voice tinged with such venom that it took him completely by surprise. ' ... and get a job loser' she added, forcing him to hobble out of the way as she revved her engine angrily at him.

'Holy shit!' Squeek gasped, for a second thinking she was going to run him over. Stumbling, he dropping his bucket, the water splashing over his already dirty jeans. From the car the girl gave a satisfied smile and set off, leaving burnt patches on the road behind her. The convertible virtually flew, engine roaring up the road towards the city centre. With his heart pounding the Hobo's eyes followed, shaking his head to himself. 'Fuckin college kids!' he muttered. Then, as the car approached the intersection it stopped wildly and paused a moment before dangerously swerving down the exit. Squeek smiled to himself.

'Dat's da hood your heading into there Missy' he whispered. 'Best watch yo'self'.

Sarah was late. It was already three thirty and she had some serious shopping to do before the end of the day. The biggest party of her life was at the weekend and she just HAD to get a new dress. As she sped along in the eighteenth birthday present her Dad had bought her she chatted on her mobile to her College friend Cassy. Both were in their final year. So far the main topic of conversation had been another party the previous night.

' ... Yeah that's TOTALLY what I thought'.

'No way!'

'That's sooo cool'.

'I can't believe she wore that! She's such a bitch'. Sarah checked her immaculate makeup in the mirror. Like all her friends, she believed appearance was everything. You either had it or you didn't. She certainly did.

'Cas I think I'm lost. Turned off the stupid highway like... 20 minutes ago' Sarah sighed as she turned right then left. The roads were like a maze.

'Sarah what are you like!' her friend shrieked down the phone. It was true. She did think of herself as super unpredictable. It was part of what she imagined her friends liked about her.

'Cindy, that bitch. She was saying there was a cut-through here. FYI, I just have to get a new dress for the weekend'.

'Well where are you?'

'I cut through Mellowfield on 2nd'.

'That's Ghetto Sarah!'. There was a tinge of worry in her friends tone. Even freshman's were told on day one which parts of town to avoid.

'Cindy. I'll kill that bitch!'. The prank was obviously on her as now Sarah thought about it, the area didn't look like it at all led to a high class shopping centre. Old, sad men pushed trolleys along the street and menacing black figures gathered around corners. 'Losers' she thought.

For about twenty minutes she drove, losing what little patience she had to begin with. This was bullshit. She'd just have to turn around and go back to the highway. IF she could find it. Of course by then it'd be too late to hit the shops. A red light came up and she pulled to a halt, angrily slapping her hand on the steering wheel. It was the first time she'd really looked around. To the immediate right was an overpass and beneath an area filled with boxes, debris and corrugated tin shacks. Homeless people. Worthless people. Sarah smirked as two black whores came out from a shop front and began walking together up the street. They were both mid thirties and wore too much makeup and ridiculously short dresses. One was overweight with huge breasts that were almost falling out of her outfit. This place was a hole. The light turned green. Finally.

Speeding around the corner another red light. Slamming on the brakes Sarah cursed again. She was never going to get out of here. Better to have just stayed in and spent the afternoon by her Dad's pool. An old man of maybe sixty limped from under the underpass. A bucket and wiper in his hand. Not another one. She'd already past one loser on the highway and told him were to go. He looked filthy. Disgusting.

'Clean yo windshield Miss?' he gasped in a friendly tone.

'How about you get lost!' she replied scornfully without looking at him. The man looked puzzled. 'Come on fucker!' she shouted. 'Get out of the fucking way!'.

'Hey you' came a deep, gravel voice. Enjoying a smoke by the street-sign was a big, black man. Sarah hadn't seen him until then but he was tall and broad with a thick beard and matted hair. Tattoo's down both heavily muscled arms. 'Watch yo mouth!' he said, jabbing a finger towards her.

'Fuck you!' Sarah laughed as the light turned to green. She put her foot to the floor, shooting him the finger as she burned left around the corner. Turning to look over her shoulder she grinned. That'd told them alright. Losers! She had no chance to see the pile of debris on the road. No time to react. The last thing she remembered was being shunted forwards and the car lifting into the air. Her head thudding into the drivers airbag. Then darkness.

The faint sound of voices around her. Fuzzy shapes. Sarah was suddenly aware she was lying on the road. The tar hot, hard and sticky beneath her from the afternoon sun. For a moment she wondered where she was, a sudden and unprecedented feeling of vulnerability. Someone must have picked her out of the car. Put his hands on her! Likely copped a feel of her perfect tits while he did it. Anger rose.

'Sarah Mcguire eh?'. She was surprised to hear her name then realised her purse was in the car.

'Mainford. Rich lil girl'.

'Was dat man?'.

'Shit theres 500 bucks in here'.

'She hurt?'.

'Nah man jus a bump on the head'.

'Fuckin bitch'.

'Yeah man, fucking hot bitch. Seen dat ass? ha'. Her head was spinning. The lights glared as she blinked and tried to stand.

In front of her stood a bald, very athletic, shirtless black man. His skin was very dark and he had a boxers figure with toned, tight muscles across his chest and abdomen. To his left was a mid forties black man with short, dirty hair and beside him, the big guy who had shouted at her. Bums. At the rear, looking coy was, the old man with the bucket. He looked timid as if still hurt from her outburst. Behind him the two whores had crossed the road and were watching quietly. Their gaze seemed the most hostile of all. Finally, her eyes rested on the red sports car. It had mounted the debris and sat completely off the road. All bashed in the front it wasn't going anywhere. Steam was rising slowly from under the hood. Slowly Sarah got to her feet, her shoes scratching on the road. This was a nightmare.

'What the fuck you call dat?' the big man said. He looked angry as hell. 'Could have killed someone'.

'Fuck you' Sarah repeated to him coldly, wandering towards the car. 'Where's my phone? Hey give that back!'. The athletic man was down on one knee, searching through her Guchi handbag. His older friend now going through the glove compartment of the car. Her mobile was in his other hand.

'Hey Moby' he said tossing a small, green bag to the big man.

Moby caught and patted the bag in his hand. Opening it up he gave a deep inhale. 'Weed eh?' he grinned. 'You high bitch?'. Sarah swallowed dryly. The first backward step she'd taken all day.

'Give me the bag'.

'You fuckin high as a kite'. Moby laughed, enjoying how helpless the cocky teenager suddenly appeared. She looked around angrily. This was obviously a spoilt rich girl who was used to getting what she wanted. Her fists were clenched and her eyes seemed to ready to burn. 'C'mon honey ... say PLEASE give me my weed'.

'Give me the fucking bag nigger' she hissed. Silently the man's grin receded. As she said the words Sarah felt her knees tremble. She'd crossed the line and she knew it. He looked her over, his eyes glazed and cold. Playtime was over.

'You got some mouth on you!' he said quietly. 'You'ze a long way from the city now though. Billy call the cops'. Leaning on her car one of the men shrugged and dialled 911 into her mobile.

'No ... stop, ' Sarah gasped and put out her hand towards him.

'No way honey, ' grinned Mojo. 'They gonna have some fun with you. Especially after what we tell em. You tried to run down old Walt'. He nodded towards the old, timid figure almost hiding behind his trolley. She was trembling all over. This was unreal.

'Please, I just need to call my Dad. He's a Councillor for the city'.

'Too late Missy'.

'Please, don't call the cops. He finds out he'll be so mad'.

Sarah looked around the unforgiving faces. One of the two whores smirked as if enjoying her situation. She was suddenly aware that the other two men had wandered back and were keenly eyeing her ass from behind. The big man let a fat smile spread across his face.

'I got's a brother across town' he said. 'Fix your car n get you back on the road n a few hours. No need to say any of this to the cops'.

'Please, ' smiled Sarah as sweetly as she could, 'please call him for me?'. The act had worked for Sarah many times but Mojo wasn't about to be fooled. The big man folded his arms and winked at one of his friends.

'See dat's the thing. In the Ghetto you gotta do somethin for us in return. Ain't nothin free here'.

'I've got money'.

'Sure you have. But we don't get many pretty white honey's down these parts. Money ain't what I wan' from you'. One of the men whistled and Sarah felt her skin go cold.

'No fucking way' she sniffed, trying to act tough.

'Billy call the cops man' Mojo sighed impatiently. 'Goin to jail honey'. He turned to leave but Sarah put out her hand again. Her heart was pounding.

'What do you want from me!' Sarah gasped, throwing her arms out.

'I think you know honey' the man sneered, eyes dropping to her firm, full chest. 'Your choice'. The girl looked down at the floor and nodded. No-one could know about this. The big man clapped his hands, grinning in contentment towards the two whores.

'Girl's, go get this bitch dressed up to ho'.

Squeek felt better after the meal. Chicken soup was his favourite and now he was ready for a beer and a nice blow-job off Chantelle or Rosy. He pushed his cart slowly up the street, avoiding the potholes. Almost home. Time to settle into his self made home and invite one of the ladies for some fun. Maybe play some cards with Mojo, Mamba and Billy later. As he turned the corner he gasped in surprise. Before him sat a familiar, red sports-car sat, beaten up on a pile of rubble with steam rising from the crumpled Bonnet. He recognised it right away.

'Looks like dat lil rich bitch got her deserts' he grinned to himself. Sure enough, the guys were standing about in the road. Mojo had his cards out and was playing a hand on the hood.