Page 52 of Tastes Like Misery

Driving to the destination, a large bank in the Chicago area, we sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic despite being on a highway. Ollie entertained us by reciting facts about the city, “It’s not called the Windy City because of the weather. It came from politicians who talked a lot of shit.”

“Interesting,” I tried to keep my voice light despite the ball in the pit of my stomach. I knew he was just as nervous and needed to do something to keep his mind off what we were about to do.

“The name of the city means stinky onion in a Native American language, though I forget which one,” he continued. “If it didn’t get so damn cold in the winter, I would consider living here. It’s surprisingly clean downtown.”

I nodded, “I was surprised at that too. I would have thought with such a huge population it would be dirtier, like how they show New York in the movies. I’ve never been to either to know how they compare, though.”

“We went to New York before, but we stayed in the hotel and took a limo to the stadium, so I can’t speak about its appearance. I’d like to one day though. Maybe with our comeback, we’ll hit there first.”

I appreciated his expectations we would get out of this alive and agreed with him, if only to stop any tension before it started. He needed us to believe in him, and quite frankly, we all needed to believe in him.

Dane expertly guided our rental SUV off the highway and into the city streets, parking in the target’s lot. It was a huge colonial style building I would have expected as a home, not a bank, if not for the sign out front showing so. A few vehicles parked in the lot for customers and I noticed they were high-end vehicles. Ollie did well with researching this one. “Are we still in the city?”

“No, this is the same county, but outside the city limits,” he said as he opened his laptop and began doing his magic.

It all seemed to blend in to me and I stayed silent as he worked, trying to hack into the security. He had help this time, and I appreciated it, especially with the high stakes. The longer we stayed parked in front of this massive bank, the more of a chance we’d be caught.

Finn twisted in his seat and reached for my hand. Linking them together, he squeezed reassuringly. The darkness in his eyes blinked in and out, and I wasn’t sure if he needed his personal demons this time or not. Knowing the FBI was on us, the same agents hunting us from Texas landing at the airport as we sat, my stomach churned. I swallowed back the vile threating to unleash as I waited for the signal.

Finally, Ollie’s fingers stopped tapping, and he opened his mouth, saying the words I knew were coming, “It’s go time.”

Our doors opened at the same time and we strode purposely into the bank, the doors slamming against the wall as we entered, guns held out. “Good morning!” Dane bellowed, all eyes of the employees and customers going to him. I held in my laugh at his pitch, sounding like a ringmaster in a circus. “Everyone put your hands up. I’d hate to start my day with blowing heads off.”

Screams followed, tears, sobs, and the usual noises people made when faced with death. My blood pounded in my ears as I began relieving customers of their valuables and ordering them to lie on the floor face down. Finn and Ollie made their way to the back where the most cash was stowed, and a shot rang out as one of them blew off the security panel.

My ears picked up the sounds of them making their way through the tellers as my eyes remained alert to the people in front of me. One lone security guard who looked younger than me took a step forward and I trained my gun on him, “Don’t be a hero. Money isn’t worth your life.”

He held his hands up and followed my directions, moving to lie next to an elderly couple dressed as if they were attending a fancy party. Dane had the other side of the room and we worked well together, quickly filling our bags.

Ollie led the personnel out from behind the previously locked door carrying two large duffle bags. Ordering them to lie with a group of others, he told us, “The back is clear aside from the branch manager. Which car do we want?”

“Your choice.”

He scanned the people and chose a woman who screamed cougar with her fake tan and huge tits all served up with amazing features that made her look younger than her age. I wouldn’t have pegged her as older if it weren’t for the deeply wrinkled hands. “You, give me your keys,” Ollie demanded. When she didn’t listen, he put the barrel of the gun to the back of her head, “Give me your keys.”

Her hands shaking, she slowly pulled them from her tiny purse and held them out for Ollie. He stood and twirled them around his finger, “I just hope it’s not a two-seater.”

Without another word, he took the bags out and I heard the beeping of a car alarm faintly through the thick walls. It wasn’t long before he was back with a grin on his face, “See, I know people. A sweet luxury SUV for us to get away in.” He whistled as he disappeared through the door to get more from Finn.

“Five minutes,” Dane called out, constantly checking the carefully laid out timeline.

“Almost done,” Finn’s muffled voice came from behind the barricade of bullet proof glass meant to keep the tellers safe from just this situation.

I couldn’t wait to get away from the annoying crying from the twenty or so people laying on the floor. My low tolerance for whining and sniffling was one of the many reasons I never wanted to have kids. I just didn’t have patience for it. “Jesus, you’d think these people were already dead or something. For fuck’s sake, shut the damn crying up. You’re alive and will remain that way as long as you do what we ask.”

My words helped a little, most of them dulling to soft whimpers and a sob here and there. When Finn finally emerged, pushing who I assumed was the branch manager in front of him, I felt nothing but relief. It didn’t matter, we still had to make our escape.

Ollie followed behind him, also carrying a couple of large duffle bags. Excitement at the large haul coursed through my veins right alongside the fear.

Dane and I stayed with our guns trained on our victims while Ollie and Finn brought the last bags out to the SUV. Once we heard the whistle, Dane demanded, “I suggest no one moves an inch. I have every single one of your IDs and have no qualms about visiting your homes to off you and your families if you turn us in. Memory loss is such a bitch for the cops.”

Finn drove, the tires squealing as he stopped in front of the doors. It was our cue, and we ran out and jumped in the SUV, squealing out of the parking lot right in front of a cop car. The lights went on, but Finn kept driving, Ollie telling him where to go. The sirens almost drowned out his voice from where I sat in the back with Dane, buckling my belt as we flew through red lights, barely missing cars crossing from the other direction.

The noise increased as more joined in the chase and my adrenaline flowed through me, giving me that delicious flutter of my heart. Wheel squealed on the pavement as he turned from street to street, going around cars stopped in the intersection. We seemed to get further and further away from civilization the further we drove, shopping malls and office buildings giving away to residential areas with homes that all looked the same.

Dane’s eyes held sadness as he looked at me and my heart dropped, not knowing what he thought at that moment. Lifting his hand to my chin, he stroked it gently, “Remember when I asked you if you’d do anything for me and you said yes?”

I did, and I nodded as the car whipped back and forth, speeding down the streets with the cops gaining on us. “I do. And I meant it when I said yes.”

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