5
The scene was a freeze-frame. Ajax, who considered himself a man of action, hesitated and watched the kid with guilt; the supervisor wondered when the air of tension had risen; Pythias looked dejected, his face taut with lines of inevitability. The boy looked confused. The dynamics had changed: the store was normally devoid of other customers, and he was at a loss of how to act.
The supervisor looked from face to face, trying to work out exactly what was going on. It was awkward, and everyone looked like they wanted to do or say something, but none of them did.
The cashier screamed.
The moment broke, the inactivity destroyed; all heads turned to fixate on the sudden actions of the flustered man. The one who had barged past Ajax and Pythias, who had rejected all help from the salesmen, who was holding a gun at the cashier with less than steady hands. His cheeks were scarlet. The two salesmen, one behind the counter, one to the side of the man, baulked in terror.
The red-faced man moved the gun slowly around, pointing it first at the skinny salesman and then the older salesman, until he had spun all the way round until it was aimed at the supervisor. “Close the shutter,” the man said, his words clear and unhurried. “Now.”
The supervisor, confused by the odd request, for a moment hesitated, but the man moved forward so the barrel of the gun was inches from the supervisor’s face. Ajax was similarly confused, but tried to stay calm. The events were so unlikely that he thought it would be a fitting time to laugh, but he stopped himself; instead, he flicked a glance at Pythias, who shrugged in the doorway. The boy ironically gravitated toward Ajax, seeking protection.
Trying to not panic, the supervisor strode across the shop carpet in the most normal way possible. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, located a small silver key and slotted it into the lock and twisted. There was a click and then a repetitious beeping. The metal shutter crept out from the shop front, gradually covering the windows. Ajax caught the weird looks of passersby. After half a minute, the shutter clunked as it touched the ground, and the supervisor removed his key.
“Good,” the armed man said. “Now everyone, except the person who can open the till and the display cabinets, move into that corner,” he said, pointing to his right, trying hard to keep his voice steady and prevent it cracking.
The command took a while to compute. But eventually, with a collective sense of unease, Ajax, Pythias, the boy, the cashier, and the two salesmen congregated in one corner. The girl who had screamed wiped away the tears and ruined black make-up on her face. She sought solace on the chest of the old salesman. Ajax shuffled next to Pythias as the man forced the supervisor to open up the till.
“We can take him,” Ajax whispered.”
“Dangerous,” Pythias muttered back. “We don’t want any more dead bodies than we need today.”
The man swung round, his face turning a deeper crimson, his features convoluting in anger. “No talking!” he shouted, before swinging back and watching the supervisor rifle through gold, silver and bronze coins.
Ajax shook his head. “He has no ammo,” he said as quiet as possible.
Pythias raised an eyebrow, the intent clear: how can you be sure?
Ajax reached his hand out and put it on Pythias’s shoulder. Trust me. He nodded his head toward the boy, who had wedged himself between the pair and the rest, his posture despondent. Watch him. Pythias returned a thin smile as confirmation.
As he stepped out from the small group, the spindly salesman who had served the pair stared at Ajax with disbelief. But the old man wasn’t distracted. His instincts were clear. Ammunition was short in Opus -- they had fought tooth and nail to get two bullets. Since the collapse of the mines, and the economic crisis, metal production had become too expensive to even contemplate for most citizens. His gut feeling always helped him. He was risking his life, but he felt no fear as he stepped toward the counter.
The man heard him approach and swung round. His hands were shaking, but he fought to keep them steady as he pointed the small handgun at the head of Ajax. “What,” the man mouthed. “What do you think you’re doing? Get back with them before I blow your fucking head off.”
“Okay,” Ajax replied.
“Okay?” the man muttered back as if Ajax was crazy. “Okay? Are you fucking kidding me? Get back with them or I’ll kill you and your friend.”
“Go ahead.” Ajax opened out his hands. “No one is stopping you.”
And, just like that, the paradigm shifted.
Ajax had taken control. The man, his threats undermined, took a few deep breaths, his arms wobbling, his face still flustered, and could think of nothing to say.
“Just get back with them,” the man said, or maybe pleaded.
Ajax reached behind him, whipped out his own gun and pointed it at the man. “No,” Ajax said, as the man stepped back, his gun dropping downwards. “You drop your weapon, and then drop to the ground, before I blow your fucking head off.”
A whimper was all the man could offer in resistance. The supervisor had stopped counting the coins. The cashier had stopped crying. It was one of those moments where everything hung in the balance on the next few actions. Everything would be decided now.
The man looked like he was about to collapse. He relaxed his grip and the handgun fell with a clunk to the carpet. He dropped to his knees.
Ajax smiled. “Good boy.” He then kicked the man in the stomach. Twice. The man grunted in pain before going silent. He rolled over and stayed silent.
The supervisor grinned, stepped out from the counter. “Thank the Gods! You just saved me a lot of money, mister,” he said, slapping Ajax on the back. “You’re a hero!”
There was a sudden applause from the corner of the room. The boy clapped excitedly, along with the tall salesmen, while the cashier and the older salesmen clapped solemnly. Pythias clapped slowly with obvious irony, a smirk forming on his face. His hand was on the boy’s shoulder, not firmly, but not gently, either.
“Yeah,” Ajax said. “I’m a hero. Great.” He didn’t point his gun down, but moved it till it was pointing at the supervisor. “Now give me all the money in the store, open all the display cases, get me some extra bags. I’m sure you know the drill by now.”
All the supervisor could offer was a gaping mouth.
“Yeah, yeah. The shock. Whatever. This is the second attempted robbery of your store in one day. The Gods don’t like you. What the fuck ever. Do what I say, because I actually have bullets, and I’m not a coward like that shithead on the floor.” Ajax took a step forward. The supervisor nodded like he was in a trance and walked back to the counter.
Where he finished off counting the coins once more. The cashier had started crying once more. The thin salesman was scared once more. But the boy wasn’t looking so sad. He shrugged off Pythias’s hand, walked forward and tugged on Ajax’s jacket.
“I know why you’re here,” the child whispered, or perhaps said in his very soft voice.
Ajax turned, but didn’t move his gun, leaving it in the direction of the till. “Get back, kid.”
“I know why you’re here,” the child said stubbornly. “Mummy told me. You’re the man from my dreams. You’re the one.”
Ajax’s face contorted, before he shook his head. “Look, kid, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just get back to my partner there. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“You don’t have to kill me, you know.” The boy looked up, not with desperation, but with the sort of utter calm that one normally say in someone much older.
Ajax didn’t reply. He looked over at Pythias. Pythias shrugged, but his hands grabbed the hilt of his knife at his side.
“You don’t have to,” the boy repeated. “And you don’t want to. Because I know where your wife is.”
Ajax almost laughed the idea was so ludicrous. “My wife died ten years ago. Along with my child. Now get back. I don’t usually hurt kids, but I can make exceptions.”
“I know where she is,” the boy said again. His voice was no longer soft, his eyes no longer so round, his face no longer so young. It was like he had morphed into something older in just that moment. “She’s waiting for you, Ajax, she’s waiting for you.”
