Free Point of Law by Clinton McKinzie

She stalks away into the forest. I see the producer of the camera crew shrug her shoulders again and they begin packing up the equipment. The activists disperse back to their scattered camps at the meadow’s fringe while the construction workers slap one another’s shoulders and hands. I can hear their jeers.
    When the television van bumps its way out of the meadow and down toward the road, the workers cheer again. This isn’t my fight—as my father advised, I’m not going to get too involved in a lost cause—but I’m angry. Fast and his hired muscle are simply bullies. Their tactics are dirty. I make myself stay in my chair and trace my hand over Oso’s heavy head where he’s laid it on one of my knees.
    It looks like the show is over. I’m thinking about going to look for my dad down the canyon when Kim comes back out of the woods. She’s moving fast, her face determined, walking straight toward where Fast is distributing beer to his victorious minions. Cal and several of the activists stand up to watch from their scattered camps around the meadow. Burgermeister stands protectively in front of his boss, his hands on his hips and a nasty smile on his face.
    Kim jabs a finger into the middle of his thick chest just as I’d seen him do to her earlier. Burgermeister laughs and pushes her away by placing his hands on her breasts. As she stumbles backward, her feet tangle in the grass and she falls. A small group of the workers encircle her like a grinning pack of wolves. Others back away, Fast among them, probably realizing that this is going too far. Things begin moving very quickly.
    Before I can push myself out of the chair, Cal, the skinny firebrand, is stalking toward the group. Sunny trails behind him. Oso is at my side as I begin to run. Glancing over my shoulder, I check that the beast is still securely tied to the old truck with the long rope. “Stay!” I shout at him just as the rope snaps against his throat. I hear the truck creak behind me with the impact of his weight.
    I’m still fifty feet away when Cal reaches the group. Through the bodies of the men, I can see Kim struggling to get up but the men keep pushing her over with their boots as Burgermeister leads them in pouring their beers on her. Fast looks as if he’s trying to intercede on Kim’s behalf. Cal leaps on somebody’s back like he’s mounting a wild horse. One of the man’s friends peels the wiry caver off his steed.
    “Hey!” I yell as loud as I can. The grinning men all turn to me, but not before one of them slugs Cal in the face and sends him reeling back into the tall grass.
    “Let her go! Let her go!” I’m almost to them. Their attention diverted, Kim struggles to her feet looking like an angry cat. Her wet hair is plastered across her face, her white shirt stained yellow from the soaking, her pale yellow sports bra visible through the transparent cotton. She sputters and spits.
    Burgermeister steps through the throng of men and faces me. “Who the hell are you?” he asks as I stop just a few feet from him, breathing lightly from the run across the meadow.
    “A witness.” I turn to Kim. “Get out of here.” She looks at me with her one good eye wide in outrage. She doesn’t move. Cal stands up, one hand held to his face, blood dripping between his fingers. “Get her out of here,” I snap at him.
    “This is none of your business, buddy. And besides, the bitch touched me first.”
    “You grabbed her breasts and pushed her. That’s assault. Then your boys held her down. That’s false imprisonment.”
    “Alf!” David Fast barks, stepping forward and interrupting us. “That’s enough!”
    For a moment I think I’m going to get out of this okay. But then Burgermeister turns to Fast with a growl. “Shut up, Dave. Let me do my job. You hired me and made me your partner, so this goddamn thing is as much mine as yours.”
    Fast says, “Alf,” again, but this time his tone is plaintive. He’s ignored.
    Cal has