Clearly, I wasn’t the only one to mistake Mendez’s snarl for a rabid dog. “What was that?” Tom asked, looking around suspiciously.

“Follow my lead, bro.” Mendez whispered.

We crawled through the grass, slowly inching toward the fledgling couple. Behind an oak, Mendez pulled out the hunting knife. I mouthed, “No.”

“Trust me,” he whispered.

Tom and Jodi must have decided it was just a dog because they were quickly back to their anatomy lesson. That’s probably why they were so surprised when a hulk in a black ski mask jumped from behind the oak, lunging toward them with a knife.

“Give me all your money!” he shouted. Tom looked at Jodi, weighing his options. “Don’t look at her! Hand it over now!”

Before Tom had the chance to make a fight or flight response, I snuck up behind him and swept his legs.

“Don’t be a hero!” I shouted, adding to his disequilibrium. “Just give us the money!”

“Give it to them!” Jodi shrieked, but none of us could tell if she was encouraging Tom to fight or hand over his wallet.