Writing prompts: Action/Adventure / A rite of passage / An apprentice
I could have turned left instead of right. I could have jumped on the bus and rode off into the sunset, forgetting everything I’d learned, but no, I decided to stay the course. Call it crazy, but I like what I do. The excitement, the unpredictability, the danger; yes, it all gives me a reason to continue this crazy journey I started five years ago.
I met Mack, ironically, at the bank. I was a teller and he was a regular we saw every Friday. He came in, cashed a small check, and went his way. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever imagine how that first little visit was going to change my life.
Mack’s “nephew,” Junior, came in with him on one of those Fridays and asked me to lunch. Tall, dark, and handsome. I, of course, accepted.
We had lunch at a little deli across the street from the bank. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The tables lined up along the sidewalk had umbrellas to keep the sun off. We shared a plate of club sandwiches cut into triangles. We giggled like teenagers, and he asked if he could pick me up when I got off work. I said yes.
Junior came into the branch a few minutes before closing. He sat quietly in the corner until I clocked out. The head teller unlocked the door with a wink and told us to have a good night.
It took three months to figure out what was really going on. Junior wasn’t interested in me at all. He was interested in the bank’s security features and cameras. Eventually he asked me point blank if I had ever considered robbing a bank.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Seriously, you know your way around the branch, you know where all the cameras are,” Junior prodded.
“It’s not worth it. I don’t want to go to jail!”
“Only if you get caught.”
He changed the subject, but the conversation kept running around in my head.
***
I met the rest of the “team” six months after that first lunch date. They were planning a heist at one of the smaller credit unions and they wanted me to go in and scope the place out.
“Go in and pretend you’re opening an account. Look around and note where the cameras are, what kind of security measures they have, stuff like that,” Mack instructed.
“Don’t forget to see if they have a security guard,” Andrew, the leader, added.
“I don’t know,” I replied. My heart pounded. “I’m just not sure.”
Junior took my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. “It’s too late to back out now. Besides, I know you love this.”
I realized he was right. My heart was racing with excitement, not fear.
And that was how it all started.
I scoped out that little credit union and the guys robbed it without a hitch. From that moment on, I started my apprenticeship.
The training never stopped. Our getaway driver, Sam, was starting to have problems with his eyesight so I was in line for his job.
“That’s right, tenderfoot, listen.”
If I heard those words one time I’ve heard them a hundred times.
“Pull the emergency brake and turn the steering wheel and you’ll drift right around the corner.”
“Drift, huh? Tell that to the car.”
We practiced in an abandoned parking lot at an old shopping center. It was set up to simulate the city blocks around our next job.
“Faster……now, BRAKE!!!”
I must have hit the cement pillar in the corner of the parking lot a dozen times. This was no exception.
BANG!! The car screeched to an abrupt halt. It took Sam and I a second or two to regain our senses.
“Umph,” I let out a grunt. “That hurts.”
Sam yelled at me again, “FASTER, you need to be faster!”
We practiced until I could perform the maneuvers with my eyes shut. I loved every minute of it. The excitement was like a drug. I kept wanting more. The feeling of control as I conquered the track was exhilarating. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, anything with wheels. I mastered them all.
Our next job was going to be big, life changing, and we were covering all the bases. The cop shop was next door to our target, so we needed to create a diversion. The training was as complete as it could be. The homework had been done. Now it was time for action.
This was five years in the making and it was time for a big payday.
The car was fueled and ready to go. The bank opened at 10 a.m.
“Are you ready, grasshopper?” Sam asked.
“As ready as I’m going to be.”
Our target was one block in from the end of the financial district. My first job was to draw the coppers away and keep them busy while the guys entered the bank. The financial district was flanked by the shipyards and shopping district. The ritzy neighborhood and the ocean were to the east. Our escape route led west through the residential area.
Parking was hard to find in the financial district, so Sam would position the getaway car early in the morning. He then had to set up a moving van in a predetermined location where I was to meet him. Timing was critical.
I jumped on a motorcycle we had stolen the night before and took off. I was about to create as much havoc as I could. The shipyards, shopping, and business districts would be teeming with commuter traffic coming into the city for the day. I meandered through traffic at a normal pace, watching the time for the precise moment.
On a good day it took twenty minutes to get from the far end of the shopping and business districts to the financial district. Sam and I needed to be back to the bank by 10:05. The guys were going to be out in ten minutes or less.
***
8:30 I enter the neighborhoods where all the fanciest houses are. The snobs are the quickest to call the cops when their peace is disturbed. I zoom up and down suburbia hell, revving the engine and zipping across yards. Spinning out on a nice, freshly watered yard is so rewarding. The finishing touch is a shortcut out of the ‘hood through their precious golf course. Nothing raises the ire of the rich like the destruction of their country club. I spin cookies in the greens, the rear tire flinging dirt in spectacular patterns. I leave muddy tracks through the fairway. Sirens grow closer as I make my exit.
8:45 From suburbia hell I make my way to the shopping district. Soccer-moms on phones never pay attention while they are driving. Prime targets for an accident. I zigzag crazily through the mall parking lot, pulling out in front of cars and riding the wrong way down the surrounding streets. They are zoned in now! Lots of pissed off moms on cell phones have more cops racing to the mall.
9:00 Time for the finale. Business men and women on their way to work, in a hurry, making high power deals on their way in, eyes flicking from their cellphones to the clock on the dashboard to the road. I run a red light, hear squealing brakes, and then hear the glorious sound of crunching metal. Two blocks up I stop in the middle of the intersection and start spinning doughnuts, front brake locked while the rear tire spins around in a circle, leaving a nice orb of burnt rubber, smoke filling the air. Releasing the brake, I shoot off down the street. Irate commuters coming every which way punch their gas pedals at the same time, crashing into each other from all directions.
Cop cars rush in. I take off down the sidewalk, rising up onto the rear tire and scattering pedestrians along the way. Dashing into the street to avoid me they cause more havoc. The sirens are getting closer so I wheelie off the sidewalk, back onto the street and make my way toward the shipyards where Sam is waiting.
9:20 Running more red lights and taking shortcuts across sidewalks help create the gridlock I am aiming for. By the time I reach the docks only two cop cars are pursuing me. I slalom around shipping containers waiting to be loaded, looking for pier 27.
9:25 I speed past several moving vans lined up along the pier, making sure the cop cars are still behind me. Reaching the end of the dock I spin around, facing the oncoming cars. I speed back toward them, rising up onto the rear tire and zipping between them before they can block me in.
9:30 Speeding back to where the vans are, I spot Sam with our truck, doors open and ramp in place. Not slowing down, I zoom up the ramp. I hit the wall at the end of the box at the same time Sam slams the doors shut. He quickly slides the ramp back into place, jumps into the van, and lays across the seat. After the blaring sirens race by, Sam sits up and opens the window looking into the cargo area. The crash into the wall knocked the breath out of me. It comes back in time to yell at Sam, “go, go, go.”
9:35 Assured I am okay, Sam speeds off. We have a route mapped along the piers that will take us to the financial district, avoiding the chaos further south. I rip off my helmet just in time for my breakfast to come back up. “Adrenalin rush be damned,” I mutter under my breath. After composing myself, I crawl through the window and plop into the passenger seat.
“Wow, what a rush!”
Sam shook his head, “I didn’t THINK you’d get stopped before you hit that wall.”
“You should have got a longer van,” I snap.
We look at each other and crack up into hysterical laughter, relieved to have gotten out in one piece.
Sam’s hands are shaking.
“Take a breath, old man,” I tell him. “We can’t afford to screw up now!”
Sam sucks in a lung full of air, holds it for a few seconds, and exhales.
9:45 We pull into an empty alley to dump the bike. Sam grabs a gas can and douses the bike with fuel. I flip a lit match into the puddle and as we reach the end of the alley we hear the tank explode.
We maintain a steady speed, timing it perfectly to arrive at the bank at exactly 10:05. As we near the bank, cop cars speed the opposite direction.
10:05 Sam parks the van in the street far enough from the getaway car that we can pull out, forcing traffic to go around.
10:07 Sam jumps out and throws the hood open on the van, pretending to have engine issues. I start the car and open the doors nearest the sidewalk. Sam is going to stay with the van and hold up traffic as long as he can.
10:10 Mack, Junior, and Anthony run out of the bank carrying backpacks. They jump into the car, yelling, “DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE.”
I stomp on the gas and roar into traffic. We have ten long blocks to a parking garage where we have another car waiting for us. Sam will meet us later.
10:11 I spin around the corner and enter a side street. Seeing nothing in the rearview mirror I ease off the gas.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Mack yells at me.
“There’s no one following. I’m trying not to draw attention,” I snap back.
Just as I finish my last word a gunshot rings out, the bullet hitting the rear fender. I see a lone officer running down the street after us.
Another flurry of “DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE”’ hits my ears.
Tires squeal as I take off. Shooting down an alley, I gun it. Reaching the end of the alley, I hope for the best and shoot into the street. Clipping the tail end of a car, I’m able to keep going. I zoom into the next alley. At the end of the alley I spin the wheel hard and slide into the street. Facing oncoming traffic, I quickly change lanes and gun it.
Racing across the intersection we pick up a cop car. He follows closely, trying to hit us with his bumper. I slam on the brakes and let him rear end us, then zoom off. His bumper guard takes the brunt of the crash, but steam is already spewing from under his hood.
“He won’t last long,” I mutter.
“DRIVE,” Andrew yells.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?” I yell back.
10:15 The next intersection brings us two more cop cars. I dash over a block and go down a one-way street the wrong direction. Cars honk and drivers cuss, but best of all, some swerve to avoid us while others slam on their brakes. I squeeze through a narrow opening, clipping the passenger side on the way through.
Spinning the wheel again, I slide sideways and launch up a side street. Halfway up the street is another alley. I shoot down that and pull into a small driveway between two buildings. We all hold our breath as we hear the sirens scream past.
10:20 I slowly creep down the driveway, easing back into traffic and heading out of town. Two more blocks and I pull into the parking garage. Dropping the guys off on the first level I roar up the ramp to the top floor. Five long ramps later I am at the top.
10:25 I leave the car running and tie the steering wheel so that the tires are at a full lock position. Grabbing a fuel can from the trunk I splash gas inside the car and throw in a match. By the time I reach the stairs the flame is spreading.
10:30 Running and sliding down the stairs I reach the first floor. Taking a few seconds to catch my breath, I ease the stairwell door open and peek out. I dash to the waiting car and jump in.
Noon – the next day – we all meet up at the bus station. Andrew divvies up the money and we all go our separate ways. Mack and Junior are headed to the Bahamas, where they hear the rum flows free. Andrew won’t tell us where he is going. He just says, “life is good” and saunters off, backpack slung across one shoulder. Sam is going to visit his children in Canada.
I’m just going to jump on my bike and travel. My journey from innocent bank teller to accomplished thief seems like a dream.
13 February 2018