He had wandered inside ahead of everyone else to see if he could find some ice. Their freezer had clonked out on the bus.
He thought Q and Murr would be right behind him, leaving Joe on the bus to sleep. Joe had contacted Mono and was miserable, it would take some convincing and possibly some threats to keep him off stage, but Sal did not see how he could perform tonight.
Hearing what sounded like yelling, Sal bolted toward the bus. Upon opening the back door of the theater and stepping outside he saw two of his friends against the bus, surrounded by four hooded figures with guns. Quickly concluding that Murr and Q were being robbed and that he was yet unseen, Sal decided the best thing to do was step back inside where he couldn't be heard and call the police. Before, going in he heard one of the hooded thugs scream at his two friends.
"Give me the keys to the fucking bus and get over here and lay flat on your stomachs until we are gone.".
"Wait, one second, Just wait, there's some..."
"Hold on you can have the bus but please just listen to us for a second."
Murr and Q both were protesting at the same time, but both were thrown roughly to the ground without a chance to explain, the keys were dug from Q's pocket.
"Either one of you open your mouth again and I will shoot you both.".
For a split second Sal could not understand why his friends even dared to protest. The hell with the damn bus he thought, just shut your mouths guys, and let them take the fucking thing.
Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head and he knew he had to do something fast.
He spoke slowly and loudly.
"I'm by the door of the building and am going to walk towards you. Please, do not shoot. You can have my money and you can have the bus. I haven't called the police. But there is someone else on the bus, please walk me in and let me go get him or let him off yourself."
Infamous for being afraid of almost everything, Sal found the courage to walk towards the scene. He couldn't let these lunatics take that bus with Joe on it.
Two guns immediately were aimed at his head as he was roughly thrown against the bus and his pockets were emptied. He had thrown his phone in the weeds by the door before walking out.
"Please, our friend is sick and is asleep on the bus. Take anything you want, but please let him off. He's in the bottom left bunk."
"Go see if one of these pricks is still in there"
A few minutes later, a dazed Joe was thrown roughly from the bus, hitting the cement hard. Reflexes slow due to just being woken up, his head rebounded off the pavement.
Seconds later the bus was out of sight.
"Everyone okay?"
Brian Quinn was the first up.
"Yea, I'm alright. Sal? Joe?"
"I'm okay. Those bastards! Dammit. You guys sure you're okay?"
"Joe? You okay, buddy? You are having a hell of a time lately."
Brian looked in Joe's direction to find he was still laying prone on the cement.
Only getting a low moan in return, brought all four men rushing to Joe's side.
Being the closest, Sal reached his friend's side first. Seeing him setting up by the time he got there was a relif upon itself.
"You okay, Joey?"
Blood was pouring from a wound on Joe's temple.
Brian was close behind Sal. Joe only looked at his friends in confusion.
Q quickly accessed the wound.
"It doesn't look too deep, but I need you to say something, bud".
Q quickly placed his hand over the wound, blood seeping between his fingers and running down his arm. Looking into Joe's eyes, he was relieved to see the blue orbs wide, confused but alert.
Quinn had gone through fairly exensive training in order to become a New York City Fireman, and this knowledge often came in handy.
He knew how hard Joe's head hit the pavement and that his lack of speech and/or possible lack of understanding could indicate a brain bleed even though the wound didn't look too deep.
"I'm okay. Head just hurts worse than it already did, man. Everyone okay?"
Everyone breathed a deep sigh of relief.
"Yea bud, you are going to have one hell of a headache now and a whopper of a bruise. We are all okay, in one piece."
By this time Murray had taken off his shirt and Quinn moved his hand and put the shirt in it's place, Joe wincing as he applied pressure. After soaking up some of the blood, there was a clearer view of the wound and it was deeper than Q had originally thought.
"I believe I was wrong about how deep the gash was, you are going to need some stitches, Joe. And it wouldn't hurt to check and make sure everything is okay in there."