The Outlaws

Chapter 4

I rise from my chair. “Dear good sir, please, don’t do this!” I am pleading to him with a shaky voice. “They are innocent people.”

“Mr. Trevor, it’s not up to you to decide. Pick one, fast!”

“S-sir….” Before I can say anything to persuade him, the robber points his gun at my temple. “Choose, Mr. Trevor! I won’t ask you for the third time.”

I close my eyes. Oh, God, why me? I cannot choose anyone. I breathe, and then I hear the gun loaded. My body is trembling now—all my life flashes in front of my eyes. If I die, none will miss me since I have none. Then I open my eyes. After breathing again, with a trembling voice, I say, “I have made a decision.”

The robber laughs. “Good, and who’ll be the lucky number one?”

Everyone is looking at me. All are frightened. I look at my customers' and my staff's faces one by one for the last time. Then I say, “Me. I choose myself.” I close my eyes afterward, waiting for death to greet me.

“Why? You can save yourself. Why should you sacrifice yourself?” 

I gulp again. “I cannot live with guilt to know I will be the reason for someone’s death. No, I would rather accept the death itself.” I close my eyes again. Tears are trickling from my eyes. “Go ahead, shoot me! But I beg you to spare these people’s lives. They are innocent.”

I am waiting for the pain to come to my body. Somehow, I expect to inhale the smell of gunpowder soon in the air. Maybe hearing a bullet’s sound when it is hitting my body—but, none. Instead, I hear a clap. It follows with everyone’s clap. 

“Mr. Trevor, you’re unbelievable!” the robber says.

Then somehow, a thought crosses my mind. I raise my hand. “Sir, may I negotiate with you?”

“Hm? What negotiation?”

“You ask for a million. You have already had probably fifty thousand now.” I think fast, recalling yesterday’s transaction. “What if I offer you two hundred more and you can walk free? But in exchange, you should let us free.

The robber is quiet. 

“250 thousand is better than none if they catch you. Also, if in the escape somehow the police can catch you, I will testify to lessen your jail time. It is, of course, if you let us all go.”

Meanwhile, waiting for the robber’s answer, I pray. Oh, God, please help us.

“Show us the money. We’ll leave.” Then he gives a signal to his three friends. One locks the front door, then joins us. The two others follow too. Then he gives the last warning, “Stay in your position, people. If you are going outside before your good man here returns or even worse, calling the police, I’ll kill Mr. Trevor.” Then he commands us, “Move!”

“Gentlemen, this way, please.” I show them the way to the bank’s safety box. After opening it, I withdraw the money and put it in the money bag. I hand over the bag to the robber. 

“Excellent! Show us to the exit now!” Since I close the safety box first, the robber shouts, “Hurry!”

I walk swiftly to the back door. When I open it, I see something strange. Maple Street is one of the major roads in Ringdom City. It is always busy every day, but now I know the road is empty. 

“Move!”

I freeze. Then I close the door again. 

“What are you doing? Want to die now?” the robber says again.

I shake my head. “Something is wrong. The street has never been so vacant. I will show you another way.” I show them an emergency way out, and this time, outside is so crowded. 

The robbers finally escape. I lock the emergency door and walk fast to the main hall. When the customers see me, they immediately arise. Some of them shake my hand. The others pat my back. 

Ann cries as she sees me. “Thank God you’re alive, Mr. Trevor.” 

“Yes, now, we can go home. I will open the front door first.” I take the front door key and open it. The customer is leaving one by one. 

When they all have gone, Ann asks, “Mr. Trevor?”

“Yes, Ann?”

“What about the stolen money?” Ann stares at me with curiosity on her face.

“The bank insured all—no worries.”

“But, sir?” Ann asks again.

“Yes?” It is odd since Ann usually is not asking so many questions like now.

“Will they indeed cover the money? All of it?”

I nod. “Yes. The bank’s risk management has included the loss. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. I’m just curious.”

“Well, let’s go home now. We will work again tomorrow,” I say.

“Thank you, Mr. Trevor. You’re a hero.” Ann shakes my hand again and then takes her purse. “I’ll go home, Mr. Trevor. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ann, take care.”

I cannot go home now since I need to make a report of the whole thing. I take the CCTV record and write a report to my manager—explaining the chronology of the robbery. Then I am calling Wayne. 

He picks my call soon. “Jem! Thank God!”

I am explaining to him, “Wayne, we survive, but I hand over the money in the safety box to them. They threatened to kill our customers, and I had no choice but to do something.” 

“Don’t think about it! Insurance will cover the loss. The best thing now is you go home and take a rest. It must be a long day there,” Wayne says.

I nod. “I have written the report. So, I will hand over it and the CCTV record to the police.”

“Yes, please do that.” Then Wayne says, “Thanks for managing the emergency like that so well, Jem!”

“It is my duty, Wayne. See you tomorrow.”

“If you need to take a few days off, let me know. You deserve it.” 

“Okay, I will take three days off then. Thanks, Wayne.”

“My pleasure.” Then he ends the conversation.

I check everything before I open the front door. The police see me and immediately approach me. 

“The robbers escaped. Here is the report and the CCTV record. If you need more information for me, you can contact me at my phone number.” I give him my business card from my wallet. 

“I heard from the other hostages you offered yourself as the first shot victim. Why? Didn’t you scare of death?”

I sigh, then shake my head. “It was horrible. But I did not want to be the reason anyone died.” 

A flashlight blinds my eyes. Then some people ask me, “Mr. Trevor, how does it feel to be a hero? How was the situation inside?” The reporters ask me the questions. 

“I am not a hero. I do what everyone will do in the same situation. It was terrifying indeed. I am glad it has been over.”

“Mr. Trevor-” Another reporter wants to ask me more questions, but the police hold them and let me go home. 

It is such a long day of my life. When I am home, I close the door, lock it, and then slam myself to bed. I kick my shoes off, also my socks. After opening my tie and my suit, I fall asleep. 

***

~ Benjamin Dwight (Ben) ~

It’s an ordinary day. I plan to buy a birthday gift for Belle today. We have made an appointment to meet at The Dairy, Belle’s favorite ice cream shop. She’s a big girl now, so I want her to choose her present. I’ve finished an excellent project—it gave me a reasonable sum. Since it’ll be Belle’s 18th birthday, I want to spoil her a little. Well, okay, I admit it—a lot! 

I know it’s not good to spoil a teenager, but she’s the only one I have. Who should I spend my money for if not for her? 

The last month, Belle has been nagging me about finding a girlfriend. She said, “I’m not a little girl anymore, Ben. Find someone and stop bugging my life! I’ll be okay, I promise!”

“Hey, pumpkin, I’m not bugging your life. I’m protecting you here!”

She sighed. “I know, Ben. It’s just…. I’m no longer your baby sister anymore. Please trust me and give me more space, Ben.”

It’s hard, you know—I mean to let loose of my protectiveness. I agreed with Belle’s wishes and stopped calling her every two days to ask about her day. I hold myself a few times not to call her—only call her once a week. 

The prompt day is a month ahead from now. Today I’ll accompany Belle to buy a dress. When I glance at my watch, it’s 3.25 pm now. I’ve arrived at The Dairy. Usually, Belle arrives on time, but who knows if there’s traffic. I wonder if I should buy my coffee now or wait for her to come. After a few seconds, I think waiting for a few minutes is better. So, when the server asks me if I want to order now, I shake my head. 

Yesterday I met an interesting woman when I withdrew a few cash from BRC. She’s a bank teller there. Her name’s Ann Horace. I wonder if I’ll go to the bank again tomorrow and ask her for a date. I’ve checked—no wedding ring on her finger. Also, how she smiled at me. Man! I want to kick myself. I think it’s an invitation for me to ask her out. Why didn’t I think about it yesterday? 

I sigh. Probably I’m a genius in programming and tech stuff, but about women? I know nothing about how to deal with them. When I meet interesting women, I don’t know what I should talk about with them. I have some chicks who want to date me, but I didn’t find them to spark my interest. Ann is not a stunning beauty, but she’s a cute and sweet type of woman. She reminds me of Belle a lot. When I’m thinking about it now, I’m wondering if I’ve got a sort of sister complex.

Speaking about Belle, where’s she now? It's 3.40 pm. She’s not usually so late. If she is late to meet me, she always calls and lets me know in advance. I tap the table with my fingers, and then I call her number. It’s picked on the second ring. “Belle, where are you now?” Then I hear a voice I won’t forget for the rest of my life. 

“Benjamin. Finally! I wonder if you wouldn’t call your sister.”