I was raised in a neighborhood where you tell “the folks” (and, I am not talking about parents, either.) when stuff like that goes down. My Mom always said, “bullets don’t have no name” (uh huh, double negatives and all) because she always thought a gun was ready and willing, just needed a target.
But, we almost never called the folks. We had street runners who handled issues like this, thankfully.
Glad you made it home safely. *big hugs*