"Let him go," a voice called from above them. 

Ricki had the terrible urge to laugh hysterically. The last thing he expected this morning was to get mugged and then saved by a mysterious hero. What now, Ricki thought pettily. It's about to snow in Southern California. The president will be assassinated today. 

The man holding Ricki cursed and slammed Ricki's head hard against the brick wall. Ricki crumpled to the ground, too dazed to defend himself. He lay on the cement and stared at the small strip of sky visible in between towering skyscrapers. He was acutely aware that the alley's stench was making his eyes water and the fact that the ground he was lying on was dirtier than a landfill. 

His savior was on the ground before Ricki could process what was happening. Everything was happening too fast for Ricki to understand. His thoughts were swimming lazily, like a piece of driftwood floating on an impossibly calm ocean. His strange sense of peace made his logic question his sanity. Maybe he hit his head a lot harder than he thought. 

There were sounds of scuffling and struggle. Then everything was quiet. Ricki wondered if his savior (Ricki decided not to call the person a hero- that would be too cliched for his tastes) had left him alone. If his savior did leave him alone, the whole rescue mission would have been a crappy job. Maybe his savior was trying to save the man's balls before Ricki could kick them. That's when Ricki knew he had officially lost it. 

So when a black-masked face leaned over Ricki, he screamed in a very, um, masculine manner and almost jumped up in fright. 

"Are you alright?" The voice was bland and flat- Ricki knew that he wouldn't be able to recognize this person's voice if he had met them in the real world. Ricki managed a shaky thumbs up and a wobbly smile from his fetal position on the ground. The person laughed and reached down towards Ricki, making him worried that he wanted a hug. Instead, he was scooped in a bridal carry. 

"Put me down!" Ricki squirmed. He regretted that immediately- his head swam and spun his vision upside down. A wave of nausea crashed over him. Ricki slumped back against the chest of his savior. If Ricki had a clear mind and any common sense, he would have been grilling this mysterious person. Out of everything Ricki could focus on, his thoughts zeroed in on one question. "What time is it?" The person froze and tilted their head in confusion. Ricki wanted to laugh at the randomness of the situation. Unfortunately, he had no energy to do so.

"It's 3:38," the voice replied. Ricki was curious about how he knew that. This person didn't pull out a phone and wasn't wearing a watch. Focus, Ricki! That's not important. And it was true. He had just seen them jump down from a rooftop like it was nothing. 

Ricki sighed in dismayed acceptance. It looked like he would be late to his shift after all.