Double Edge | WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST + AMBYS 2023 WINNER

Chapter 14

September 1st, 2019

"This is for your daughter, right?" Tommy pulled his ski mask down over his head with one hand. The other lifted his gun. His blue eyes peered at me through the peepholes. "Then stop being a bitch."

Yes, this was for my daughter. And no, I wasn't being a bitch. My moral compass told me this was wrong. I'd ignored the twitching arrow trying to point me in the right direction because I felt like I had to do this. Now that arrow was about to pop off. With Tommy turning towards the bank's side entrance, ready to push inside, I knew there was no going back. What could I do?

Gritting my teeth, I pulled my mask over my face and reminded myself I was just a man with a conscience. Even as I followed him, the small voice in my head told me there was still time to leave. I could run. My friends could talk shit for days, months, years, but at least I'd be home. I could hold my daughter for all the days she had left. The compass tried; it really did.

But it was that last thought that had me touch my gun. I didn't pull it out, but I held it; a horrible reminder of what I needed to do. I didn't just want to have Maggie for a few months, a year, maybe more. I needed to see her grow up, graduate high school, and find the person she loves with all of her heart. I needed that for her.

Tommy twisted and pushed himself through the bank's side door. Ruben closely followed from my left, and I hurried behind him. Hot breath suffocated me as I rushed into the lobby, eyeing the terrified stares of the customers standing in line. They backed away, bumping into each other. But when Tommy lifted his gun and fired at the ceiling, they stopped. The tellers reached for their security buttons.

"Don't do that." Tommy looked at them and shook his head. Then he glanced at the office in the back. "You either!" he shouted, pointing his gun at the glass door. "Matter of fact, why don't you come out and join your employees, huh?"

I watched a woman slowly stand from her desk, hands raised beside her face. She stumbled over her own two feet as she approached her office door. A tear slid down her cheek. Her eyes slid over us individually. When they landed on me, we locked gazes. She mouthed, 'Please,' but it wasn't like I could respond. I felt sick.

Glancing at Ruben, I thought he'd feel the same. Ruben was never a tough guy in our group. He followed, but that was because he came everywhere with us. Half of the time, he'd shit his pants if we tried to steal a car radio.

Not this time. Even with his mask, I knew he was stoned face, eyes forward. He clutched his gun at his side, not pointing it; I knew he'd do it if he needed to. Shit, at this point, it felt like if Tommy snapped a finger, he'd shoot on command.

"No one's pressed a button, right?" Tommy laughed. When no one answered, Tommy shouted, "I asked, did anyone press a goddamn button?!"

Whimpers carried in the air. A few of the tellers shook their heads. I bit the insides of my cheeks.

The plan was supposed to be simple. We'd rush in and demand the money from the drawers. Once the tellers filled our bags, we'd run out to Mark and the getaway car, and leave before the cops arrived. We had five minutes. Tommy had said it over and over—five minutes. He wasted time. Why the fuck was he wasting time?

"Good." Tommy fired his fun again. The people in the lobby screamed. As one tried to run for the door, Tommy snapped his finger. Like that, Ruben ran. He rushed the man trying to escape, and when he knocked him down, he turned the latch on the door. Locked. No one could leave. I bit my tongue.

"All right, now," Tommy had one bag in his hand. He threw it at one of the tellers, "I need you to fill that with everything you have."

They complied. Each teller opened their drawers, emptying the money from inside. One by one, they dropped bundles into the bag. When they handed it back, Tommy shot at the ceiling again.