You're surprised

The two men stop at your plea, looking at each other and shaking their heads.

"Hurtin' you is the last thing on our minds, sweetie. What's a pretty girl doing out here naked anyway?" His voice, though a hoarse rasp has a note of kindness and concern in it.

"I was looking for something to cover up with. Some men...they took my clothes. They were going to hurt me. I got away and I ran out here."

"This a bad part of town for a girl like you to be walkin' round buck nekkid," the other man says. He starts to unbutton his long overcoat and you give a little scream. It stops him and the two men share another look and a rueful chuckle.

"Ain't gonna hurt you, honey," he says, taking off his coat. "Jes' gonna loan you my coat so you can cover yourself. Nice as you are to look at, don't want you catchin' cold." He holds the coat out to you and nods.

Uncertain, you reach out a hand and take it. You hesitate for a moment and put it on, your skin relishing the warmth but your nose registering that it's grimy and smells like months of sweat and dirt. Still, it's better than being naked.

You're about to thank them when the door you came out of bursts open, spilling light into the alley. You can see Richards in the door, looking the other way down the alley. You shrink back behind the dumpster, whimpering. The two homeless men crowd after you.

"That the men after you, sweetie? Don't fret, just hunker down here with us." They pull you down between them, making you curl your legs so your heels are hidden under the coat. "Put this on," one of them says, and puts his ragged and greasy hat on your head. "Tuck your hair under it," he whispers. You hear a pair of footsteps coming down the alley.

"I think we're wasting our time. She wouldn't have run out here naked," Richards' voice complains.

"The clamps were in that room, so was she," your professor answers. "The bitch had to go somewhere, and it doesn't look like she's in the building."

As the footsteps get nearer, one of your protectors passes you a bottle and whispers to you to keep your head down. His voice breaks out in raucous song as your pursuers approach.

"Goddamit, who the fuck is that?" Richards exclaims, sounding almost as scared as you felt a few moments ago.

"Sorry, sorry gennelmens. Me 'n my partners jes' havin' a lil drink. Din't mean to scare you none."

"It's just some bums," Simmons says. "Nothing to panic about. You fellows see a young white girl run down here in the last few minutes? She'd probably have been naked."

"Sorry boss. We're fresh outta nekkid white girls. Would sure like to see me one though," he gives a croupy laugh and takes the bottle from you, taking a big swig.

"Lets get out of here. These assholes don't know shit," Richards says.

"Yeah probably not. Listen guys, here's ten bucks. You hear about a girl like that, you call this number and there's fifty more in it for you. If you bring her to where they tell you when you call this number, there's a hundred more."

"A hunnert dollars! Each?"

"Sure, why not. A hundred each." You feel abject terror. Surely the offer of that kind of money to these impoverished men will tempt them beyond the kindness they have shown you. Surely they will sell you back to your tormentors. Tears start to run down your cheeks as you wait to be exposed.