Without a trace

“Oi, Cass, you ready to go?”

I looked up from tying my shoe,

“Almost, do you have the getaway car set up?”

Glen smiled,

“Had it set up last night.”

I stood and crossed the room to him,

“What’s in your pocket?”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. He was a good liar, but I knew my best friend and my ears were acute.

“Glen, there’s something making a rustling sound in your pocket, maybe paper, a flyer, or something, what is it?”

He didn’t budge so I slipped my hand into his coat pocket, pulling out, as I had guessed, a flyer. It was a wanted poster, I didn’t even know they still made these. What surprised me was seeing our faces printed on it.

Cassandra Kenedia and Glen Waymend

Wanted for theft crimes.

Reward: 40,000, each.

I looked at him,

“How long have these been up?”

He sighed,

“About a week.”

“So that makes our job today even harder, now that people know what we look like.”

He nodded, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, at least they're good pictures, they chose my good side.”

I examined the picture. My black hair was up in a ponytail, wispys blowing in the wind. It didn’t quite capture how my eyes looked, they looked brown in this picture. In reality, they were hazel, much more green than brown.

Glen's picture was, of course, perfect. His dark brown hair flopping adorably over his face, his glasses covering the chocolate brown eyes underneath. Dang, my best friend was a hottie. Before you start assuming anything, Glen is basically my brother, he never has, and never will be anything more.

“Eh, they could’ve done better.”

He smacked my arm and I laughed,

“I’m just messing, calm down.”

We heard the loud intercom go off over our heads, we were gearing up in an old utility closet that was buried inside the twisting walkways and floors of the NYC mall.

The mall is closing in ten minutes, please finish your purchases and exit quickly.

My eyes locked with his and he nodded shortly.

“You ready for this?”

I smiled,

“Of course I am.”

He stood up straight, his 5’8 frame towering over my own 5’3 body. His eyes were serious.

“Cass, if we pull this off, we can do anything. If we get caught-”

I put my hand on his shoulder,

“Glen, I know what the consequences are if we get caught. I believe in us, we’ve done everything we needed to do to prepare for this. We can do this.”

He struggled to smile, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to help me, this was what we did to live. He was just afraid of what would happen to us if we failed.

I checked my watch,

“Alright, it’s time to go.”

He took a deep breath and creaked the door open. I tucked my hair into my beanie and pulled my mask over my face. He did the same and surveyed our surroundings.

“Clear, the guards won’t come to this sector for another thirty minutes, let’s go.”

Stepping out silently, we hugged the walls and ducked under door ways, carefully avoiding cameras. We spotted our target shortly. The National Bank of America. The single bank in the entire world that had the most amount of money in it. No one knew it was here, except for a select few, and well, I had my sources. It was disguised as a normal clothing store, but we knew that on the right wall exactly 12 inches up the wall there was a button. Nearly invisible to the naked eye. It was a finger print only access system, so no one could accidentally hit it. Luckily for me, Glen was a phenomenal hacker, scientist, and engineer. Combine those and you get an artificial finger print, the finger print of Harrison Stentorian, CEO of this mall.

It was perfectly set up, we slipped inside seamlessly, Glen hacking into and overriding the gate system. Once inside, it was my turn. We knew we had to act quickly, when the guards arrived we’d have maybe five minutes before they called back up and we were surrounded. I slipped the glove with the prints on it over my hand and held my thumb to the wall. My eyes calculating the distance to know exactly where to put pressure.

There was a faint click and the wall opened up, the panel sliding out of place. We checked our backs and slipped inside. I had heard stories, but never in a million years did I imaging how enormous it was. Stark white walls and matching floor that stretched on for miles it seemed. My hand fell to my belt and closed around a small pair of jet black sunglasses. I slipped them on and pressed a button on the side.

They whirred to life and the room was covered in light blue lines, giving me vision behind every door. I analyzed for only a second before pointing to the right,

“The vault is in that room, the rest are all fakes.”

He smiled,

“That’s my girl.”

Again, don’t get any ideas. He called me that because he’s family.

We practically ran to get to the door. Glen plugged his cord into the lock, it hooked up to his fit-bit, his fingers danced on the tiny surface. This lock was probably thought to be impenetrable, but not to Glen Waymend. I had no clue how he did it, but with a final tap of his finger tip the door slid open. I fist bumped him and we entered.

I threw out my hand quickly, hitting him in the chest, stopping him before he moved another inch.

“Wait, lasers, all over the floor. Can you disable them?”

Thank goodness I had these glasses. The invisible lines that criss-crossed over the room would’ve been the death of us. He scoffed,

“Can I disable them she says.”

I glanced at my watch again,

“Glen were running out of time. Please.”

I turned to him, seeing that he had already finished his nerdy hacking.

“Done, we can cross.”

We moved quickly, my mouth dropped open at the sight of the looming vault, floor to ceiling tall, obsidian black. I scanned it, finding my target.

“Watch my back.”

He nodded,

“Always.”

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on the turn locks. Instantly feeling the grooves and vibrations flowing through my arms. I turned them once each and smiled, my hands could feel the small clicks that ran through the mechanism. With ease, I turned the locks confidently.

“Six, three, eight, two, zero, zero, eleven, five.”

I mumbled to myself quietly and felt the locks click into place, yes. I pulled the giant door open and rushed in,

“Hurry Glen, ten minutes.”

He hurried in behind me, we slipped off the duffels that we carried and began stuffing piles of cash into them. When we ran out of space, we pulled out collapsible bags from out belts, collectively gathering hundreds of thousands of dollars. I looked at him,

“We need more, this isn’t enough.”

He nodded and sprinted out of the room, returning shortly with bags draped over his arms, he was obviously out of breath.

“The guards, they’re getting closer.”

I grabbed the bags and finally, we had enough. We sprinted out of the bank, closing every door behind us, leaving no fingerprints. I heard the sound of soft footsteps as the gate slid down into place over the door.

We ran silently back down the marbled floor, the various stores flying by us. Getting back to the closet, he swung open the window that would provide us with an exit. Without a sound, we climbed through it and jumped. My feet hit the asphalt with a thud, our car was parked directly in front of us. I smiled, the keys were strapped to my belt and I pushed the buttons, the car clicking unlocked.

Throwing the bags into the trunk, we piled in and I tossed Glen the keys,

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

He plunged the key into the ignition and started it, the car rumbling to life, the smell of exhaust hitting my nose, giving me a rush of adrenaline. In moments, we were out of the parking lot and on the road. 



“So, Africa?”

I smiled,

“Get on the interstate, by the time they realize what happened we’ll be in our boat, on our way to our new life.”

He jerked the steering wheel and pulled us onto exit 19, I laughed into the wind, the open windows sending air through my hair. He laughed with me, holding his fist out for a fist bump, I grinned and connected my fist to his.

“I told you we could do it.”

He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes bright with excitement,

“I can’t believe it was that easy.”

I shook my head,

“It wouldn’t have been for anyone else, the world's not prepared for us.”

“Dang right they aren’t.”

We drove off, speeding down the interstate, feeling nothing but accomplishment.

We had already sailed across the icy waters of the ocean, landing in Africa, when they realized they had been robbed. I watched the TV, pulling my hair into a ponytail,

“Oi, we're on TV.”

Glen peeked his head around the corner from his spot at the kitchen stove. I was laid out on the couch, sitting up so he could join me. The news article flashing across the screen.

The National Bank of America was robbed, it's uncertain how long ago it took place. Over three million dollars was taken from its master vault. The culprits are unknown, simply vanishing, leaving no trace.

I smirked, turning to my best friend and holding out my fist,

“Vanishing.”

He smiled, hitting my fist with his,

“Without a trace.”

I could still remember the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair as we raced down the interstate, the tires turning with the weight of our crime, the crime that no one would ever know we committed.

The pavement of that interstate would always wear our signature, as the ones who got away.