7days7authors

Friday: "Heist" (Part II) by Peter W. Knox

(Part I here)

Jackson

JACKSON HAD practiced this maneuver many times in Benny’s apartment. He no sooner passed through the door than he had his gun out and easily blasted the only security camera twice. The guard was barely on his feet before Jackson had trained his sights on him. Jackson didn’t even need to look over; he knew Benny would stick to the plan. He just hoped the plan would be completed in less than four minutes.

The Teller

SHE WAS STILL reading the typed piece of paper when the commotion began. Looking up to see her current customer remove a hulking twelve pounds of intimidation from his pants instantly connected the capitalized words in front of her. “PUT THE MONEY IN THE BAG, THIS IS A ROBBERY.” The fragmented sentence didn’t bother her as much as the question it begged, but before she could ask, a lightweight black duffel bag landed on her desk. Now her customer had climbed the five-foot glass window and was addressing the confused crowd.

Benny

“DON’T ANYBODY do anything fucking stupid. Follow my directions and no one dies here today. I need everyone to lie down on the floor and put their hands on their heads. This is no fucking joke – do it or I’ll kill you. NOW!” Benny fired his pistol into the ceiling, knocking loose a few tiles, each resulting crash an exclamation mark on his words. The adrenaline firing through his veins made him question whether he liked robbing banks more than spending their money. But as he felt a rip in his new suit lifting his leg over the window, he already couldn’t wait to buy a new one. From atop the last teller’s counter Benny could see Jackson calm and collected, keeping vigil at the door, his gun supervising the heavyset security guard following directions like everyone else.

The Teller

SHE ALWAYS flustered at the first sign of confrontation. Whether it was a long line of exasperated customers unhappy with the not-so-free-checking or a smiling bank robber waving a gun, she was going to have a hard time handling the actual money drawer. Needlessly, she held the bag open in her left hand tossing the contents of her drawer into an increasingly heavy load. “Your backup drawer too, under the counter,” demanded the robber. He seemed to know exactly where the money went, and she struggled to remember company protocol on the issue of robbery.

As she moved through each window, collecting the cash from each, the robber only yelled at her to move quicker. Uncontrollably her shaking hands were both holding the bag and tears began staining her white blouse. Returning from emptying the first teller window, she stumbled with the full bag, tripping and losing control.

Benny

BENNY WAS infuriated. He had one minute to get out of the bank alive and this dumb broad was fucking it all up. Hopping over the counter he rushed to recover the stolen cash. Jesus, it was heavy, as he lifted it to his shoulder proud to have pulled in more than enough reward to justify his risk. The teller, practically bawling, rose to her shaky feet in enough time for him connect her face with the butt of his gun.

Jackson

THE NOISE was sickening, Jackson thought. He didn’t plan on any violence but he knew Benny was more than capable of dishing some out. Jackson saw the scene through the window across the bank lobby. The teller rose again to her feet, but this time her face was covered in blood instead of tears. Benny, in the midst of a stream of curses, quickly snapped back into the heist. Stay in the now, Jackson concurred. Their last minute was up and Benny motioned to Jackson to transition to the getaway phase of the afternoon’s activities. Jackson backpedaled through the door, Benny coming around the end of the teller windows.

Josh

THE BLACK AND white tiled floor was dusty. The custodian was probably waiting until the start of next week to mop, but for now Josh was breathing in clouds of dust. The robbers hadn’t asked for his personal money which meant his weekend was still intact, but as he laid face first in a pile of people he wondered why no one else had acted on the felons.

While this seemed like an organized procedure, there were only two criminals with guns trying to manipulate an entire bank. And when he heard the crack of the one robber’s gun against the beautiful blonde teller’s nose, something snapped inside Josh. Josh remembered his father’s strict words on maintaining gender relations: No one should ever hit a woman for any reason – ever. If I ever hear about such shit from you, I’ll personally kick your ass, and if you weren’t my son, I’d kill you. That could easily be someone’s fiancé, Josh imagined, and she might have weekend plans that didn’t include hospitals and therapy.

Benny

BENNY WAS exhilarated. This job was as exciting as the last and the adrenaline served to push his rush even higher. Stepping over the teller window barrier, the cash weighed heavy on his back, but Benny was bolting for the door. He made it several feet before feeling his legs yanked out from underneath him.

The cold tiled floor flew up to meet him as Benny’s face hit first, the bag of bills knocking the wind out of him from behind. His reaction was swift and immediate as Benny instinctively kicked behind him, threw off the bag, rose to his feet, and swung the gun around. The hero had been the guy in front of him the whole time. Benny didn’t give his assaulter one second to think before pulling the trigger and picking up the bag. The door loomed before a dazed Benny and he made it past only to stumble into an air of unwelcoming sirens. Marvin and Jackson had the car in gear fifteen yards ahead when Benny heard a loudspeaker command him to stop. Reacting to the obnoxious voice, Benny turned and fired off a few rounds in its direction, receiving a volley of bullets in return. (Maybe say that one hit, or explain that he felt something) Crumpled and bleeding, Benny rested his head on the pile of money he had intended to start a new life with. His last clear vision included a stunned Jackson and a grim Marvin speeding away, leaving only a pile of cigarette butts in their place.

Josh

THE PAIN was real but comforting - Josh didn’t know where he was hit. By now everyone had gotten back on their feet and was attending to Josh and the blonde teller. Strangely enough, Josh was smiling – he had heard the shootings outside the bank and assumed his assailant hadn’t made it into the getaway car in time. And people were asking him questions but he could only think about the blonde teller and how now she didn’t have to go to the hospital alone.