by RB Stutz
“Excuse me sweetheart,” the hat man said to her with a smile.
“That’s ok,” the girl responded with a smile no one could ever have been forced to believe was sincere.
I saw the sign for the restroom in the far right corner of the store and headed in that direction. The bell rang as I walked that way, indicating the front door of the store had opened again. I looked over and saw the two men with the truck walk in. I turned back and continued on to the restroom.
It took a few minutes to complete what I’d come in to do. When finished, I walked over to the dirty sink and turned the handle indicating hot water and got cold. I lathered the standard pink dispenser soap in my hands and rinsed it off under the cold water. Once free of soap, I filled my hands with more water and splashed it onto my face. I turned the faucet off and waved my hands under the automatic paper towel dispenser just to the left of the sink. It took a few seconds, but finally the towels came out. I was finishing drying my hands and face when I heard the toilet flush in the stall that was occupied when I had walked in. A few seconds later a guy walked out as he was still fastening his belt.
“Hello,” he said as he walked to the sink to wash his hands. He looked around twenty. He was tall, pale and slender. He was wearing worn and faded jeans tucked into tan work boots and a beige canvas work jacket. His hair was long and untidy and the attempt to grow a beard on his face wasn’t working out very well for him.
“Hey,” I said, nodding my head. Since I wasn’t big on chit chat with strangers, especially restroom chit chat with strangers, I turned to walk out the door, back into the store.
The store was quiet. All of the customers were gathered near the front counter. I heard a “click” as something cold and hard pressed to the back of my head.
“Don’t move,” said the same voice that had just greeted me in the restroom.
“Crap. This is just what I need,” I muttered.
You would think because I could read people’s thoughts, I could avoid such a situation. Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. My thoughts need to be focused on a specific person in order to be able to hear what they’re thinking. For me to have known my restroom companion was going to put a gun to my head, I would have needed to focus on him while we were still in the restroom. I could have tried to read him with the gun to my head, to see his intentions, but it would have taken a tremendous amount of concentration to do so, not leaving room for other distractions, like being held at gun point for example.
“Bobby, bring him over here,” said a man at the front of the store, one of the two who had arrived in the truck.
“Alright, we’re comin’,” answered Bobby as he shoved me forward. “Move,” he shouted, pushing me.
I knew what I could do and was confident in my abilities and the fact I could disarm Bobby before he even thought about pulling the trigger. My hesitancy to react though was twofold. First, he had the gun to my head and in the slim chance, I mean the very slim chance he could have gotten a shot off, I would have most likely been killed. The very convenient ability I had to heal from injury did have its limitations. For example, if I was shot the wound would heal, but around the bullet. The bullet had to be removed for me to fully recover. If I got a bullet lodged in my head, the wound may heal, but the bullet wasn’t going to go anywhere. A bullet lodged in the head was still a bullet lodged in the head, after all.
Also, I didn’t know enough about the situation to be sure no one else would get hurt. I had to assume the men at the front of the store were also armed and any action from me could cause a lethal reaction. Again, I had no doubt I could have them all disarmed in a matter of seconds, but how many others could get hurt in those seconds?
It went against my nature, but the best course of action was to comply with Bobby’s request and allow myself to be escorted to the front of the store.
“Is it all clear back there?” The same man asked Bobby as we approached the rest of the group.
“Yeah man, its all clear,” said Bobby.
Both of the other men had hand guns as well. The man who was giving orders to Bobby seemed to be the one in charge. He was of average height and weight with long graying brown hair that hung to his shoulders, and a thick graying beard. He was wearing a grey canvas jacket, faded black jeans and black combat boots.
His partner was of a similar build and age. Their faces had a lot of similar traits. They looked like they could have been brothers and I guessed probably were. He was wearing a black and grey flannel shirt with faded blue jeans and work boots. His hair was shorter than his partner, but with the same coloring and with no beard.
“Billy, go lock the front door,” the bearded man said to the other. At that order, the beardless gunman went to the front doors and turned the lock.
“Where are the lights?” Asked the bearded man again.
“Bbbback behind the counter,” said Ahmed, his false look of calm composure betrayed by his shaky high pitched voice.
Billy went behind the counter to find the light switches. He found them. The room and the lights outside all went dark.
The little boy started to cry once the lights were out. “It’ll be ok baby,” his mother told him as she stroked his head. The little girl was held tightly in her father’s arms.
“Shut him up,” the bearded man shouted at the mother.
“Shh, shh baby. Shh,” she continued as she tried to calm him down.
“You know our cash is picked up every day,” said Jack to the gunmen with confidence.
“Don’t lie to me boy,” said the bearded man as he turned the gun to Jack’s forehead. “You don’t think we did our homework? This place is in the middle of nowhere. Your cash is picked up once a week, every Tuesday between 5:30 and 6:00 a.m.”
“Okay, sorry, you’re right. They’ll be here this morning for a pick up. They’ll be here soon,” said Jack in a scared apologetic voice, not the confidence he had just spoken in. “They’ll be armed,” he warned.
“You think?” the bearded man snorted. “Bobby, Billy, get them over there,” he shouted pointing to the corner near the restrooms.
The two men began to herd us over towards that area.
“If you all cooperate no one will get hurt,” Billy said as we walked.
From the moment the gun was put to my head, I’d tried to remain silent and unimposing in order to take in the entire situation. I only had the chance to look into the bearded man’s mind. Though it was just a brief look, I didn’t like at all what I saw. He was a man who didn’t have any problem killing every one of us if he thought he needed to. I had the feeling he might just do it anyways, even if it wasn’t necessary. His mind was a murky compassionless place, full of hate and greed.
Taking the route of caution was the right call and I had to continue to be careful. I couldn’t risk doing anything too reckless. The cost of recklessness could be the blood of my fellow captives. I didn’t want more blood on my hands, there was already too much.
What I found in my brief look into the bearded guys twisted mind, was they were indeed there for the armored car and had three more men on the outside to take out the guards when they arrived. One of the men actually worked at the armored car company and had the key to access the back of the truck. That was the extent of useful information I could gleam though.
The ability I had to, for lack of a better term, read minds was somewhat limited. Not only did I have to be mentally focused on the subject, but I could only hear what they were currently thinking. With that, I couldn’t even get Mr. Bearded man’s name, because he wasn’t thinking it at the time.
Outside of his mind, however, I was able to observe other things the good old fashioned way. What seemed evident was Mr. Beard was in charge and his brother Billy who seemed uncomfortable at the robbery and hostage taking business. Also, Billy had shown some concern for us as he walked us to the back of the store. I took note of that as a weak point to possibly exploit. I hoped I’d have the chance to check out his mind a
s well before I had to act.
As far as Bobby went, I hadn’t quite figured out how he fit in with the brothers, but that he just seemed to be no more than hired help for Mr. Beardy McBeard.
When I was stressed or in a bad situation, I tried to entertain myself. Not entirely appropriate, I know, but a little humor kept my mind clear. I couldn’t let myself get distracted by fear and worry.
I couldn’t guess what was in the truck to be worth possibly killing a store full of people. His thoughts told me the cash payoff was to be significant though. He’d pulled together a large operation and I couldn’t imagine there was that much cash in a truck out in the middle of nowhere. The motive didn’t really add up.
At the back of the store, Bobby and Billy performed a quick search of us. They took cell phones from everyone, a pocket knife from the overweight guy, who by the way looked like he was about to go into cardiac arrest. His face was bright red with sweat pouring from it. It seemed the stress was a little much for his probably already strained heart.
From me they got a little bit more. Of course I still had the 9mm holstered under my jacket and a knife strapped to my right ankle. I hesitantly let them take both of these as well as my cell phone. Since, at a casual glance, the PTD looked like a watch, they didn’t touch it.
“Hank, look at this,” Billy shouted to Mr. Beardy holding up the confiscated weapons.
So his name was Hank.
Hank walked back to where we were. He first looked at the weapons and then back up at me.
“Why did you have those?” he asked pointing his gun at my head.
“I’m in a gang yo!”
At that Hank swiped the butt of the gun across my nose. There was a crack followed by a sharp, blinding hot pain and I felt blood start to flow. Ouch.
It was only with practiced restraint that I didn’t take his gun and beat the hick fool senseless.
“You’re as much in a gang as I am the Governor. Now let me rephrase the question boy. Why did you have those with you and who the hell are you?”
The pain in my nose was already fading and the blood flow stopped.
“My name is Jonas, and I am carrying the wheel,” I said calmly.
Hank looked confused. “What did he say?” Hank asked looking at Bobby and Billy. They both just shrugged.
I guess they hadn’t caught the Weezer reference, but like I said, even when in peril, I try to keep it light and I just couldn’t help being a smartass.
“You smug son of a bitch,” he shouted as he whacked me again across the nose.
The pain came back as well as the blood, but that wasn’t the worst of it. When he shouted, he sprayed me with his nasty tobacco chewing spittle. Gross.
Hank walked over to a shelf and grabbed a roll of duct tape.
He shouted “Bobby,” and once he had his attention, threw him the tape. “Bind his arms. I don’t trust him.”
I let Bobby bind me with the duct tape. When the time came, breaking free from it wouldn’t be hard. For now I was just going to let them get comfortable with the fact I was out of the way.
All of the other hostages were sitting on the floor, grouped together in the back of the store. I was also on the floor but ten feet away from the rest of them. Hank and Billy were back at the front of the store, looking out the glass doors. With the lights out, I could barely make out their figures next to the glass.
Bobby stayed at the rear of the store to play watch dog over us. I focused my thoughts on him and tried to break into his mind, but was met with nothing. That had never happened before. There had never been anyone I couldn’t read.
The little boy began crying again and his mother tried her best to calm him.
“You better shut that thing up woman,” Bobby snarled at the mother.
The mother cried, holding her scared child closer. The father stared at Bobby as he held his daughter; cold hate is in his eyes.
“Don’t get any ideas boy,” Bobby told the father with a challenging look and a smile.
“Leave them alone you jerk,” said the girl in the Boise sweatshirt.
Bobby directed his attention to her. “Oh, feisty, I like that. Stand up,” he ordered the girl pointing the gun at her.
“Leave her alone,” I said. I didn’t know how much more I could sit and watch. Hitting me was one thing. I was durable. The way he was using fear to toy with the others though was pissing me off.
He ignored me.
The girl shook her head. She started to tremble and tears began to pour from her eyes. “No,” she said weakly.
“I said stand up. If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in that screaming brat and his mother and then you’ll still stand up after that. Now stand up and come the hell over here.”
Bobby moved the gun, pointing it at the mother and son. The girl was still trembling and now crying.
I needed to be careful. I could easily take out Bobby if needed, but I wasn’t sure if I could get to the other two before someone else got shot. They were at the front of the store, but commotion would surely draw bullets in our direction. I couldn’t know for sure, well at least I couldn’t concentrate long enough to find out, but I didn’t think Bobby would actually shoot the mother and son. It seemed he was just toying with them. I needed to be ready to move if necessary, though. I softly worked to loosen the tape to the point where it would only take one quick tug to break.
“Well, what will it be?” he asked her.
“What the hell’s going on back there?” shouted Hank from the front of the store.
“I have everything under control,” answered Bobby.
He turned back to the girl and exaggerated the movement of his eye brows up and down. “You know, I don’t have any problem with wasting them right now. At least that would shut the kid up,” he said.
“Ok,” said the girl in her shaky voice as she rose from the ground. Once on her feet she hesitated for a few seconds and then slowly walked to Bobby. He moved the gun to her as she approached. She stopped right in front of him. She was silent, but the tears still flowed from her eyes.
With the gun still pointed he circled her, looking her up and down. “Mmm, nice,” he moaned as he circled. “Too bad you have that big sweatshirt on.”
Once facing her again, he rested the gun against her temple and moved his face to her hair. He took an exaggerated breath and moaned again. He moved his face back and stroked the side of her face, cupping her chin at the end of the stroke.
“I may have to keep you for a while,” he said, still cupping her chin. “Now go sit back down,” he added, pushing her back towards the rest of the hostages.
The girl went to sit back down. Once on the ground she covered her eyes and sobbed quietly to herself. Bobby then resumed his position watching us.
I looked forward to wiping that stupid smile off that cocky little prick’s face and it took all I had in me to keep myself from doing it right then.
A few minutes passed and then there was the single ring of a phone. It came from the front of the store. I saw Hank already had the phone in his hand and he answered it before the second ring. Apparently, Hank was expecting the call.
“Ok, good. Get into position,” I heard him say into the phone.
He took the phone from his ear, hit a couple of buttons and then placed it back. After a couple of seconds, he said “you ready?” there was a pause and then “ok then, do it.” He put the phone back in his pocket.
“They’ll be here any second,” shouted Hank so Bobby could hear. “Stick with the plan.”
Hank walked over to where the light switches were and turned back on the lights to the station.
I assumed he was referring to the armored car. Crap, I had to do something, it couldn’t wait.
Part of Hank’s plan included killing the guards on the truck. I was able to get that much from him. I couldn’t let them do that. I needed to take control of the situation and fast, but in a way I didn’t get anyone else killed. I could take Bobby easily, but I sti
ll couldn’t get to Hank and Billy before they started throwing bullets in our direction.
I thought if I could only get another one of them to the back of the store, then I would feel more confident in the result.
As in response to my thoughts Hank said “Billy go watch over the hostages with Bobby. If any of them so much as twitch, shoot them.”
“Ok. Sure Hank,” he said and then started on his way to the back of the store.
Perfect.
It took Billy a few seconds to make it to the back of the store. As he walked right in front of me, I moved in one fluid motion sweeping his legs, freeing my bound hands from the remaining tape, and going for his gun as he fell to the ground. I got my hands on the weapon and started to rise when I heard three small explosions nearby.
The newly acquired weapon fell from my hand and I started to fall back to the ground wondering what had just happened. As I was falling, I felt three distinct sharp pains materialize with ferocity as I realized Bobby had put bullets in my right hand, left shoulder, and right thigh. I hit the ground.
Bobby stood above me in a firing stance with the muzzle of his gun, still smoking, pointed at me. He was smiling. A nasty crooked brown toothed smile.
“Billy, you can get your gun back now,” he said to the confused looking Billy now sitting on the ground next to me.
Blinding pain flooded through my body, spreading like long tentacles from the wounds. I’d been shot before, but it was just once and that previous experience didn’t lessen the pain the second time around, especially when in triplicate. Before, the shot had gone all the way through my shoulder and hadn’t taken long to heal. Now I was pretty sure I had two of the three bullets still in me and the one in my leg was going to prevent me from moving anytime soon.
“What the hell is going on back there?” shouted Hank from the front of the store.