Joe stood frozen in his place, staring at the man with the gun. He had now concluded that his day had just gotten worse, much worse. The gunman was standing in front of the door and was now walking slowly across the store, his eyes flitting this way and that. His clothes were ragged and dirty, with a face to match.
"I said open the register," the robber repeated, gesturing with his gun. The plump looking cashier fearfully pressed a button on the register and opened it halfway, breathing nervously the whole time. The register got stuck but he wrenched it open quickly.
Max just stood there next to Joe, completely unaffected by the situation. He gazed at the gunman with interest, wondering what in the world was taking place. He noticed the strange device in his hand, and wanted to know what it was, for it seemed to be having a strange affect on Joe.
The burglar then turned to Joe, who was trembling in fear.
"You and the kid go against the wall over there and stay put," he said angrily, "that is, if you don't want a bullet through your skull."
Joe nodded feverishly and grabbed Max, walking over to the place the robber was pointing out.
"Why are you listening to him?" questioned Max.
Joe just shook his head.
"Just stay quiet," Joe whispered.
The cashier then pulled all the money from the register and put it on the counter. He backed away, whimpering and almost tripped.
"Please, just don't hurt me," he pleaded.
"Quiet down!" the gunman ordered. The asian man shut his mouth.
The gunman walked over to the counter and spread out the money. He got angry.
"21 dollars?" he said brushing some pennies aside, "are you kidding me with this?" he said, spitting on the counter
"You must have more money, right?" he said, glaring, while raising the gun to the cashier.
The cashier shook his head.
"I have no more," he whimpered.
The robber cocked his gun.
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, with a menacing look in his eyes, "I'm not sure you're telling the truth."
"I have no more," he repeated, trembling.
"Are you SURE?" he asked the asian man again.
Joe stood against the wall and watched the scene in horror. But it was nothing compared to what happened next.
Max stepped forward.
"Max, stay here!" Joe whispered fiercely. But Max did not listen.
"The man said he has no more money," Max told the gunman.
Joe held his breath.
The burglar turned to Max.
"What did you say, kid?" he said angrily.
"I said the man doesn't have anymore money," repeated Max, "But Joe does," he said, pointing to Joe.
Joe just shook his head again.
What are you doing, Max! he thought.
"Oh, really?" said the gunman.
He bent down and snatched Max from the floor.
"NO!" cried Joe.
"SHUT UP!" yelled the gunman, turning his gun on him.
Joe gulped, and stayed quiet. His mind was racing, his adrenaline surging.
How am I gonna get Max outta this?
The gunman then spotted the ATM machine near Joe.
"Open that," he commanded the cashier.
"I can't open it," he said.
"I said OPEN IT!" the gunman had lost it.
Max was held by the gunman's arm, and did not know what he had done.
He then felt the icy cold end of the man's gun being pressed against the side of his head.
"OPEN IT OR THE KID DIES!" the gunman screamed.
Joe was sure this guy had gotten out of control. He needed to do something quick. Max's life was hanging in the balance.
"I told you I cannot open it!" the cashier cried, "Only the bank has the key!"
"Liar!" the gunman yelled, and pressed the gun harder into Max's head.
A new sensation now surged through Max's body. It was pain.
He watched the expressions of Joe and the asian man, not understanding that they were experiencing fear.
"What is happening, Joe?" he asked.
"Shut up!" he screamed at Max and pressed the gun harder still.
The cashier was frantic, waving his arms in the air. But then something jogged his memory. “Wait, I might have some money in my safe!” he cried. “I don’t think I took it out yesterday! Please, I will get it for you. Just don’t shoot anyone!” He then hurriedly got up and gestured to the gunman to follow him inside the back room.
“It’s about time,” the robber growled, his filthy hands squeezing Max ever more tightly, “You had better hope you didn’t take that money out.”
The cashier took this in. He nodded his head. He really did hope that he didn’t. But before going in, the gunman turned to Max once again. “You! Get up over on that wall so I can keep an eye on you!” he yelled.
Joe quickly followed instructions and went ahead of the robber and the cashier, pressing himself against the wall just inside the back room. “You stay there,” he said angrily.
Joe tried to calm down as the cashier and the gunman made their way to the far side of the room, towards a locked closet. “It is in here,” the cashier explained, breathing nervously.
Maybe the guy will just take the money and leave, thought Joe. But he didn’t believe the gunman would let them off that easy. After all, he had come in with no mask or disguise. If he left, Joe could easily give the police his description. He was ugly enough to remember, thought Joe. No, the gunman wouldn’t be leaving just like that.
But Joe shuddered to think what would happen when the robber got the money, let alone if he didn’t get it. Joe watched silently as the cashier took out his keys. Hands shaking, he managed to insert the key into the hole and turn it one-hundred and eighty degrees, unlocking it.
“Hurry it up!” yelled the gunman, making the cashier jump.
“Yes, okay,” he stammered, opening the closet door. The gunman stared intently, waiting to get the money he so wanted, while still holding the gun to Max’s temple.
Joe then noticed something on the lower shelf on the desk beside him. Something that could help get them out of this.
It was a cell phone.
Call the police! One side of him was saying.
No, you’ll get killed, you idiot! Said the other.
Joe stared at the cell phone, his insides boiling. He didn’t know what to do. He would risk his life trying to call the police. But he didn’t figure his chances were any better if he waited for the burglar to make the next move. He had to make a decision, quick. He didn’t figure the gunman’s attention would be on the safe for long.
But he had a good chance. The gunman and cashier were facing opposite him. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get a message to the police. Blocking all thoughts, Joe pulled up every last bit of courage inside him.
He was going to do it.
The cashier was now rummaging inside the closet, under some buried papers. With painstaking care as not to make a sound, Joe bent down and closed his fingers around the cell phone. He made sure to turn the volume on the phone down all the way, so the phone would not alert the robber. He then looked back to see what the gunman was doing. He was still focused on the cashiers actions.
The cashier had found the safe, and was now turning the knob. But because his hands were shaking so violently, he couldn’t quite get the knob to stop at the right numbers. This would buy Joe some time.
He held his breath and slowly punched in the numbers 9-1-1 on the phone. It made no noise. Putting it to his ear, he heard a pleasant female voice answer him.
“Hello, this is 9-1-1, what is the problem?”
Joe raised his voice as far as he dared.
“This guy—he, the gun, and my brother—the cashier is getting the money and I—“ he said quickly, barely whispering.
“Wait, slow down,” she said. “Tell me what's happening in one complete sentence.”
Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. My heart must be beating a thousand time a second, he thought.
“A guy’s robbing us, and he’s got a gun, please help.” He breathed.
“We’re sending someone over, stay calm.” She reassured. Then his worst fears were realized.
“Watch out!” It was the Asian man calling to him.
As Joe turned around he felt some of his teeth come loose as his face was met with the gunman’s boot. The cell phone flew out of his hand and across the floor.
“Hello?” the woman on the phone said. There was no response.
Joe had flown back and hit the hard ground. He touched his hand to his mouth and felt the warm blood begin to flow.
Max screamed. He didn't need to know anything to figure out that this wasn't good.
Joe closed his eyes as he began to lose consciousness, and coughed up blood on the floor. A searing pain was racing through his head as Max’s scream rang in his ears. In his mind, he realized there was no hope left, he had failed. He had failed himself, the cashier, and Max.
“Hello?” the woman repeated over the line. This time she did get a response. It was a gunshot.
A gasp came from the phone, right before the line went dead.
***
Okay everyone, I hope that fixes everything!
) the three chapters work as one. Much more suspenseful and seems to move more quickly, without pieces sort of hanging in the middle like chapter 8. Nice touch with phone also. We still can't have a logical explanation for the robber not just shooting Joe...unless the gun was only a bluff? Mm...Still, it seems more realistic than last time. Good job! I've got to go,
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