The end as it came-2

THE END AS IT CAME

Rony Brown

Episode Two

I scurried behind the counter with every fiber of my being trembling.

“You!” His voice was right over my head. Why me? I dared to peek and my eyes met the dark eyes of the robber. His gun, unwavering, was right over my head.

I quickly snap out of my reverie when he gives me a sharp and unforgiving kick in my gut.

“Please,” I beg, “I don’t know anything.”

“Shut up.”

He cocks his gun.

“You better get up now before I blow your head off.”

I can feel something stirring in my chest. Rebellion? Anger? It does not stop the trembling but it makes me bold. I scramble to my feet and get a good look at the face of the person that is probably going to take my life.

He is a fine man. Even with his scruffy look and a week old beard, I can tell in another life he would have made a fine doctor or something of the sorts. And looking into his dark eyes and at his strong jaw I can tell this is an honest man pushed over the edge; a man with nothing to loose.

“Are you listening to me?” He slaps the butt of the gun across face.

Argh, it stings!

Something trickles down my cheek. Blood! I watch my treacherous fingers tremble on its own accord.

“You better get going before I decide to splay your brains over this floor.”

He pushes me with such a force that I almost fall, face down.

“Take all their phones. Make no mistake, little Armah is going to suffer the consequence of any silly heroics you decide to pull.”

The menacing chill in his voice and the way his lips defiled the name of my child get my legs moving. How did he even get know the name of my baby.

“Get all their phones, now!”

There’s a bin within my reach so I pick it up. There should be roughly fifty people in the bank. How can one man successfully hold about fifty people captive? Worse, no one looks willing to put up a fight. They willingly give up their phones and go back to hiding their faces. But not Mr. Ghartey, the manager. What is that look in his eyes? Yes, he has a plan!

“Keep moving.” The robber gnarls from behind me. Just then some movement seem to distract him.

“Who was that?” He walks to the other end to assess the situation.

Mr. Ghartey beckons me. I made to receive his phone and he suddenly grabs my arm.

“Sandra, press the damn alarm button already.” he whispered passionately.

“But he’s going to kill us all.”

“He is going to kill us anyway.”

“But…”

I would have continued if I had not felt this chill crawl up my spine.

God, he was standing right behind me!

“Thank you for talking.”

He points the gun at Mr. Ghartey’s chest. Could this robber take a live?

He cocks the gun. I shut my eyes tight.

A blood curdling scream escapes Mr. Ghartey’s lips. I should have known that he was not going down without a fight. He easily floors the robber. Some moans and struggles then suddenly the gun goes off. They are both still.

Mr. Ghartey saves the day. I sigh as relief washes through the length of my body.

Their stillness shatters as every eye glued to the scene witness the robber throw Mr. Ghartey off him as though he were nothing but a pile of garbage.

 

There are unanimous shrieks and cries in the bank.

Mr. Ghartey was right. He was going to kill us all eventually. I just had to do something or as Mr. Ghartey did, die trying.

Here he comes charging at me and waving his gun.

“I need to go for my phone. It is behind the counter.” I already feel dead within as I utter the words. I am surprised he doesn’t stop me. I walk to the counter. My tears spatter the ground with every step I take. I deeply regret leaving my family behind; O my dear daughter! Would he even spare her after I’m gone?

His gaze follows me like that of a lion’s on its prey. I stop behind the counter and look straight into his eyes. He knows I’m about to do something. But before he could react I press the alarm.

Even though I didn’t know what to expect, sudden noise and pandemonium comes as a surprise.  They seem to defile the intimate silence of the robbery. The alarm cries and immediately everyone takes to their heels and make it to the doors.

“What did you do!” he gasped. “You are going to pay!”

I quickly try making a dash for the doors too. I am almost five steps away from the door; four, three, two…baam. What just happened? My head is going to explode but instead, sweet darkness embrace me into its bliss.

“No, no, no! This is in not happening.”

I slip out of unconsciousness to see the robber pacing in the empty bank and talking to himself. Sirens, distant sirens, blast from all sides into the bank. It echoes softly. It is the police. Sweet salvation has finally come!

Back into unconsciousness.

“Nancy, O Nancy! I am so sorry I failed you. I failed you and our unborn son.”

This time he is on his knees clutching his head rumbling on an on about some Nancy. Is she his wife?

Darkness.

“Everybody is going to pay. I swear on our dying son. Everybody!”

He is raving mad now. Something cold is pooling by my side. Blood! He must have pulled me inside the bank close to Mr. Ghartey's body. Because if this is my blood, then surely I must be dead by now.

“You!” He must have seen me shrink away from the blood because he moves towards me and shouts, “I  should kill you. But that would be too easy. I will…”

“Terry?” A timid voice over a PA system from outside interrupts his threats.

“Nancy!”

He stands and a brilliant smile shatters his severe face. Then he runs to the door.

I hear the sound of a bullet tearing through flesh and I know that it had ended. I laugh; madness is a cheap price to pay for dancing so close with death. Some paramedic helps me to my feet and leads me outside.

I see the robber, Terry.

He is not dead.

He is cussing and swearing.

“You will all pay. You and every person you hold dear. You will know how it feels to have everything taken away from you. You will all fucking pay with your lives.”

He is cuffed and thrown into the back of the police van and all his threats are silenced as the doors shut them in.

Where is Nancy?

I am frantic.

Why are people clapping? I find it awfully amusing. I throw my head back and laugh. It is a cold and mirthless laugh. Madness is a cheap price to pay for dancing this close with death.

 The paramedic takes pity on me and injects a sedative into my neck. Then comes the darkness again; sweet sweet darkness.