"No real names!" The driver said.
"We're still in the car Phil. I'm gonna duck across the street and get some more tissues." The man said. There was snot leaking through is balaclava.
"You've got to be kidding me. This is a loading zone. I'm not even meant to be parked here!" The driver said.
"It'll just be a second." The man said removing his mask and wiping his nose on his sleeve.
* * *
To soothe the fact that you'd had about three hours sleep, you made a game of finding the surface which reflected the least fluorescent light so you could take comfort in staring at it. The counter in front of you. It was a quiet morning and as soon as these two walked in you knew what they were here for. You even knew more or less how badly it would go for them, based on the way they carried themselves. One simply lacking the confidence. The other like a cancer patient who had got to the point where he was no long accepting treatment.
* * *
"What the hell took you?" The driver asked.
"They had a special on Day and Night." The sick man said. "If I take more does it work quicker?"
"Just get out of the car already." The driver said.
"Shit I shoulda got water. These things don't go down so easily."
"Where the hell did they find you." The driver said.
"They had a special on Day and Night." The sick man said. "If I take more does it work quicker?"
"Just get out of the car already." The driver said.
"Shit I shoulda got water. These things don't go down so easily."
"Where the hell did they find you." The driver said.
* * *
The one who looked more nervous, more inept, though less like he was dying took a place in your queue. There was only one person in front of him. As you poured some old woman's jar of silver coins into the counting machine you spotted the gun that was quite clearly in the side of his pants. The man took a step forward and the gun moved. It slid down the leg of his pants, until the nuzzle of the gun was protruding against the side of his shoe. You pressed down on the silent alarm.
The man awkwardly tried to slide the gun back up his pant leg first by pretending to kneel down to tie his shoe. By the time he was half way back to getting it up to his waistline the eyes of every teller were upon him, until a succession of sneezes created a distraction that allowed the man to quickly drop his pants and reveal the weapon along with his demands.
"Money in the bags. Everyone behind the counter empty your registers into bags. Everybody else give me your wallets." No one who handed over their wallets had much money if any. Probably why they were at the bank.
"Does anyone have any water please?" The sick man asked. "Please could anyone--" and he started sneezing again uncontrollably pointing a gun in your direction, sneezing and sneezing with mucus dribbling down the bottom of his mask. Finally he took it off.
"Shit! What are you doing?" The driver asked.
"I'm sorry, it was getting too hot and--" he started again. Huge streams of snot pouring out now. And then as though his body had run out of the viscous yellowy green product instead he just started blowing out a watery substance that soon turned to blood.
"Looks like he's blown a gasket." The teller next to you whispered.
The nervous man yelled at you to get the sick man some water and you did. You handed him the water but when he looked up at you his face was a hideous mess he looked like someone had poured acid on him. He spat burning blood in your face and shot you in the chest. He then shot his partner and anyone else near by until he had no bullets left. He lay face down and gargled in his own puddle of fluids until he was dead as well.
Hours later people who had survived the ordeal began describing similar symptoms.
The man awkwardly tried to slide the gun back up his pant leg first by pretending to kneel down to tie his shoe. By the time he was half way back to getting it up to his waistline the eyes of every teller were upon him, until a succession of sneezes created a distraction that allowed the man to quickly drop his pants and reveal the weapon along with his demands.
"Money in the bags. Everyone behind the counter empty your registers into bags. Everybody else give me your wallets." No one who handed over their wallets had much money if any. Probably why they were at the bank.
"Does anyone have any water please?" The sick man asked. "Please could anyone--" and he started sneezing again uncontrollably pointing a gun in your direction, sneezing and sneezing with mucus dribbling down the bottom of his mask. Finally he took it off.
"Shit! What are you doing?" The driver asked.
"I'm sorry, it was getting too hot and--" he started again. Huge streams of snot pouring out now. And then as though his body had run out of the viscous yellowy green product instead he just started blowing out a watery substance that soon turned to blood.
"Looks like he's blown a gasket." The teller next to you whispered.
The nervous man yelled at you to get the sick man some water and you did. You handed him the water but when he looked up at you his face was a hideous mess he looked like someone had poured acid on him. He spat burning blood in your face and shot you in the chest. He then shot his partner and anyone else near by until he had no bullets left. He lay face down and gargled in his own puddle of fluids until he was dead as well.
Hours later people who had survived the ordeal began describing similar symptoms.
