The Job

Rubber soles hit the black pavement with lightning force. Bip, bap. Bip, bap. They sped along rapidly. Heavy breathing disrupted the otherwise quiet street, and the rustling of cloth disturbed the nature surrounding. The young man stumbled slightly on the uneven path, nearly falling flat on his face thanks to a loose stone. He pressed the bag to his chest and held the gun in his hand even tighter. Quickly, he gained his balance again and dashed forward into the night.

        His mind raced in all directions. He could barely concentrate on the path in front of him. His heartbeat was so much so that he almost could feel his sternum breaking from the pressure. Still, he sprinted on. He turned to his right, stopping so quickly that he almost lurched forward again. He dove over his shoulder into a trench, sliding down the dirt embankment. Once he reached the bottom, he took a moment to catch his breath which was, to him, almost impossible at this point. He held the gun up near his head just in case one of them somehow managed to catch up with him, but he knew that that was impossible at this point. He couldn’t risk it, though. There could always be that one freak of nature among them; the star athlete turned pig humper. As his breathing slowed, he returned to himself. The thoughts that were once fleeting and unorganized finally came into one.

        If it hadn’t been for those dumb bastards at the register, none of this would have happened, he thought. If they hadn’t tried to play hero, nobody would’ve gotten hurt! Served them right, though. Try to play that hero shit will only get you shot. Though he kept thinking those words to himself, he felt a dark twinge in his chest. Of course, he didn’t want it to turn out like that. He was only saying that so he could feel better. But nothing at this point could make him feel better. The gun in his right hand gave him the urge to vomit when he glanced at it for only just a second. He wanted to throw it away, as far away as he could and not just to dispose of the evidence. The damn thing that once made him feel like he was the big dog, the top guy above everyone, now suddenly made him feel like a monster, a creature of death and destruction. And he hated it. But he couldn’t do that just yet. Not until he knew for sure that they weren’t on his ass anymore. Besides, if they got there when he thought they did, they would’ve found it quicker. Bastards!

        He rifled through the bag in his left hand. Every kind of dollar was in there; from Benjamins to Washingtons, Lincolns, and the Jacksons, this was the motherload. Hell, this was probably the most important job that he had ever done! To hell with all those other stores, this one was the best! When he and his boys staked it out a few days ago when they strolled in, he had a nagging feeling in his gut about it. Of course, he was right. When they pulled it off, it was a treasure trove. He couldn’t help but think about the irony of the place they robbed. Of all places they could jack, they chose a diner! It wasn’t even a well-known diner as far as he understood, but the site was packed with fat cats and rich bastards! This would’ve been the best robbery ever had it not been for that stupid waitress at the front! Trying the old hero trick of using the hidden gun below the register was pretty clever at any other time. Too bad that psycho son of a bitch Rudy got a hold of her before she could pull the trigger. Of course, he killed her (not like he hadn’t killed anyone before), but when he did, the last-minute pull of her trigger ended up blowing the head off of some fat corporate exec. Now there were blood and brain bits everywhere and a whole squadron of cops after them after someone called them. If he got through this okay, he would spend every cent on a trip to Jakarta. Hopefully, he’ll hide out and settle there forever if he gets out of this alive.

        They were a roaming bunch; they just drifted from town to town like in the movies robbing places. Whatever money they got, they used on the fun stuff; women, drugs, ammo. They slept out under the stars or under bridges, and never did they ever get caught. It was hard to bag someone why didn’t know or recognize. Thanks to the fact that wherever they went, they could fit in (by some miracle), they never had any issues with the police. The only times they did were when that psycho Rudy was in one of his moods. Luckily, he was never in one of his moods for very long. When he was, though, that guy was scary. Once, he saw Rudy carve up a woman’s face just because she dared to make fun of his missing ring finger. It was some joke about that whole ‘two in the pink, one in the stink’ thing that wasn’t even that funny. Apparently, though, that was enough to warrant five slashes to the face. It’s a miracle their faces weren’t on the TV at then. Still, it was to him a good life. He could see different places and say ‘Kiss off!’ to anyone who messed with him or his crew. They never had any ties to anyone or any area, just each other. It was what he wanted ever since he was a kid and, if he made it out of here, what he would have at the end.

        The bushes rustled behind him. He readied his pistol. Taking three deep breaths, he lunged forward with it in hand. Before he could pull the trigger, he heard a familiar voice.

        “Yo, chill!’ the voice said. “It’s me!”