Try to reason with them

You hold your hands above your head as the women in the alley turn to each other with a look in their eyes you don't particularly like. It seems that you might not find safety from objectification even among other women.
This is certainly not your day. Or week. Hell, it's not your year, and by the looks of things in the street they won't be getting better any time soon. But you'll be damned if you just stand here and let a bunch of house-wives gone rogue decide your fate.
"Listen," you say, arms still raised, palms faced outward in a sign of surrender. "I'm not looking for trouble, alright? I just want to be on my way."
The head female tilts her head as she watches you, calculating, and there is something decidedly cold and terrifying about her eyes. She looks...empty.
"I don't think I was asking you what we should do. Was I girls? Or did I mis-speak?" She asks, once again addressing the group behind her. They all laugh lowly, moving out of their hiding places and beginning to circle around you, pushing you back towards the wall.
You step backwards, arm still waving around in the air uselessly, and stumble over your pack.
"We're gonna have fun with you," the leader continues, eyes raking over your body. It makes you feel gross, and sick. What is it about the apocalypse that seems to make everyone so god damned horny?
Your eyes dart desperately around the alley, searching for anything to use to defend yourself. Your gun is flung down beside your pack, too far to reach. There's another short alley that shoots off to your left, and although it also is a dead end you can see the rusted ladder of a fire escape hanging down. You could probably jump and reach it.
But it doesn't look like your going to have time to make a run for it.
The pack closes in, and you're about to shut your eyes and pretend you're somewhere else when a flash of motion at the end of the alley catches your eye.
"I might not be looking for trouble," you begin, a bubble of hope building in your throat. The leader must see something of it on your face because she stops, waiting for you to continue. "But they sure are."
The leader of the group whirls around towards the front of the alley, her weapon raised, and the rest of her followers copy her action. In the entrance of the alley stand the four men who must have been chasing you out of the mall, and they have their guns trained on the armed women who are now serving as a shield.
"Carlos, this isn't your district," the alpha female says, her voice sharp and grating. You slowly lower your hands, inching towards your pack while the groups are distracted with each other. Slowly, slowly, slowly.
You can feel the sweat dripping down the back of your shirt, the way it tickles strangely along your spine. The effort to move inconspicuously is immense, your eyes darting constantly to each person in the group, demanding that they don't look back and see you.
It is a miracle that you make it to your pack at all, but you know you really only have time to grab one thing and go. Taking the pack and the gun will cause too much of a scene. You have to choose. Quickly.