Behind the visor, Lucie's eyes widened. It had been years, and she'd barely known him even in that dim and distant past she'd driven herself to forget as much as possible... but she knew that face. He hadn't changed that much, certainly not like she had. She couldn't immediately place him, true, but she knew he fitted, which meant he was either from Lima or from New York. Probably Lima.
Which meant he was dangerous. It meant he knew about McKinley, and that if he knew who she was, she could be unbelievably fucked.
Then again, he was trying. And whether or not it had registered with him, he was going against the law, too, for his brother. In a sickeningly memory-filled way, she could relate, although she quickly drove that thought away to the darkest space of her mind. Thinking about Dan wouldn't help.
Instead, she straightened up, the thug's phone in her hand, and looked up at Kurt again. "Not the point. I'm going to call 911 for these bastards. The boys who ran off might've called already, though, so you and I need to be gone." The anger in her voice had disappeared, replaced with a clipped, cold certainty. "Either you go your way and I go mine - big city, chances are we won't run into each other again before you fuck up and get caught - or you come with me and maybe I can help. Makes no difference to me." And without waiting for a reply, she dialled and held the phone up to the front of her helmet, as she'd done a million times, speaking in a clear, easy tone as soon as the connection was made. "I need an ambulance, probably police back-up. Five muggers, all unconscious. Witnesses are two teenage boys, they'll probably come forwards." Giving the address in the same neutral tone, she ended the call without ceremony, tossing the phone back onto the unconscious man's chest, and headed for the wall.
She climbed mostly without her power this time, but she climbed quickly, and she didn't look back to see whether Kurt was following.