Assisting hypocrites and blasphemers

Last night after surveying the downtown area, I decided to move to a different location. I settled myself atop the roof of some type of natural gas facility (I think). A couple of tractor-trailers and a fleet of yellow pickups below me. I watched as a man screamed into the air about someone's "ulterior motives" and how he would "never trust her again". I then saw the Motorola earpiece, and kind of smirked at myself, as I was about to declare the man insane for speaking so intensely to himself. I could hear and feel his heart beating from across the street. I could smell and taste the alcohol on his breath. I watched as he got into his foreign sedan and sped away. He was in no shape to drive, but who was I to stop him? Looking back at how events unfolded, I sometime wish I would have taken more chances. Of course I could always start today. All is particularly dull for the next few minutes, then a car pulls behind the store. An odd place to park, since there are spaces in the front near the door. My attention draws even closer to the vehicle as I can smell a rich mixture of gasoline and human adrenaline. The driver's heart is racing. The vehicle is left running while the driver exits and sprints to the front of the store. He looks in multiple directions with intense expectations in his eyes. Is he running from someone? He is a shorter, small framed man in dark clothes, except for his scuffed Nikes. As he rounds the corner to the door, he pulls a dark skull cap over his face. His intentions become clear. I was always taught to help those in need, but the thought now promotes a bitter taste in my mouth, due to the situation with Riley and the children she was attempting to assist. I can't see into the store from my location, but I wait to hear gunfire. After only a few moments, the front door swings open and the small framed man races out of the store. He makes a wide turn around the corner, then into his car and quickly disappears behind a nearby treeline. I still don't know if I feel guilty for not assisting the store clerk. I ponder my actions and as the authorities begin to arrive, I make myself scarce and work my way back towards the compound. I know Riley would want me to help the clerk, but at the same time, I would be assisting a society and government that has shown me nothing but hostility. A society and government that has tracked my people like animals and taken life without hesitation. Why should I assist such men, such hypocrites, such blasphemers of their own rules? I think I'm glad that I did not.