He crossed carefully, each step soft against the damp pavement. Lucky padded at his side, silent and alert. Joshua edged to a dumpster at the alley’s mouth and peered around. A weak overhead bulb flickered, struggling to stay lit.
Inside the alley, a woman was pressed against the wall. Her purse clutched tight. A man loomed, greasy coat open, one hand out, the other gripping a knife. “Come on,” he growled. “Don’t be stupid.”
Joshua froze, pulse racing. Nothing—no weapon, no plan. Lucky growled low beside him—too quiet for the mugger. Joshua looked down. The dog’s body was taut, ready. He took a breath, nodded. “Go,” he whispered.
Lucky shot forward like a bullet. The mugger didn’t see it coming. Teeth sank into arm and coat. The man howled, dropping the knife. It clattered to the ground, spinning in a circle of dim light.
The mugger twisted, trying to shake Lucky off. Joshua seized the chance. He lunged, grabbed the knife by the handle, swung hard with the back. The butt struck the temple with a sick thud. The man staggered.
“Call the cops!” Joshua shouted over his shoulder. But the woman was already on the phone, voice trembling but clear. “Yes, I’m at Doyle and Ninth—a man tried to rob me—someone helped—he had a dog—send help fast.”
The mugger bolted into shadows, clutching his head. Lucky barked once, chased briefly, then returned to Joshua, tail high, breathing hard. Joshua crouched, rubbing the dog’s side. “Good boy,” he muttered, heart hammering.
The woman approached, voice unsteady. “Are you okay?” Joshua nodded. “Yeah. You?” She hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Yes… thanks to you.” Her eyes went to Lucky. “And him. That was… brave.” Her voice cracked, full of stunned gratitude