He came then, fast, wanting this finished. Alice pressed her palms flat against the steel containers on either side and used the grip of her bare feet to lift herself. The blow swept below her as she shimmied up and leaped for the hydraulic line. For a moment, it held her weight, then it split to spray pressurized lubricant into the narrow alley. Her assailant tried to turn, but the oil made it impossible, and he slipped onto his front, knife clattering away. Alice fell knees first onto his back, smashing him into the black oil. He struggled, thrashing with his arms, but couldn’t reach her. She wrapped her right arm around his neck and pulled back, the chokehold cutting his air supply. He bucked and tried to roll, legs getting purchase against the side walls, but she used her weight to keep him pinned. The cut in her arm was a line of fire; the stink of the oil everywhere, inside and out, filling her up. He weakened, went limp, and collapsed into the water. She rolled him onto his side and tried to stand but barely had enough energy to breathe, let alone move.