Reality's Escape: a collection of short stories

Heist

Part 1
I always wondered what it would be like to live in the city. Living in a little apartment with a lone windowsill covered in potted greenery, just a few minutes bike ride from a bakery, being able to watch the street lights begin to glow while I work on another chapter of my latest novel, entirely undistracted with my earbuds in.
But of course it was just a thought. I was enjoying my quiet drive back into the country, letting the street lights fade away behind me. The sun pierced a single last shaft in between the mounting clouds; it looked like a storm was brewing. It was beautiful, and I was on my way home, to my family.
I slammed my foot onto the brakes. Someone had just jumped in front of my car! My tires screeched to a stop while my headlights glinted off an object in his hand— it was a gun. Pointed directly at me.
He stood like that for a while. Strange. I got out of the car. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this should be a bad idea, but I closed the door behind me and stepped towards the masked man.
"Do you need a ride?"
He waited to speak— must have been working on the intimidation factor. My hand covered my pocket, feeling for the pocket knife I always carried on me, but I didn't take it out.
"You're going to take me to Tillsonburg."
"I'll do that. You can put the gun down though." I got into the driver's side, and he entered the other. "Where in Tillsonburg?"
"Just into it. I'll walk to where I need to go."
"Alright. I'll just need to text my mom that I'm going to be home late, otherwise she'll worry."
"Just go! You're wasting my time."
"I'm buying you time. If she gets worried, you know how easily it would be for her to call the cops, and they could track us."
"Fine. Let me drive if you want to text."
"Absolutely not! I'm a fast texter." And I was. In a few seconds I had sent Forgot something at work don't wait up luv you.
"Now go."
I started driving, taking a left and driving right past my home. in a few minutes there was another intersection, and I took a right.
"You know where you're going, right?" The man asked.
"Of course I do. Are you sure you don't want to stop anywhere on the way?"
He gave me a look that showed clearly how stupid he thought I was, but there was a hint of curiosity in it as well.
"It just seems to me that wherever you're going, it would make things easier if you had some more cash on you."
"It might, why?"
"Cause I know where you can get some."
He scoffed. "And you'd be willing to help me."
"For a share in the profit, yes."
"And where would this place be?"
"It's a lovely little place out in the country called Perfected Home Styles. I've worked there for a while now. They don't have any cameras, and only lock the front door. I know where the stash is."
"Alright... but why would you want to steal from your own workplace?" I could hear the wariness in his tone. I should have known he wouldn't be easily persuaded.
"I'm fired at the end of this month." This was the truth, but I wasn't going to tell him it was because I was resigning. "After all the hard work I did, I think I deserve a little leaving bonus. And the way they keep records, they'll only be confused for a while before they figure they wrote the total wrong."
He still looked unconvinced.
"Trust me. The way they keep records, it won't even take a stretch of the imagination."
He nodded. "Alright. But any false move and I'll—" he waved his gun to remind me that it was there.
"I won't forget."
There was a few minutes of silence— enough for me to second-guess and triple-guess myself.
Him too, apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were "But you told your mom where you'd be!"
"Yes."
"We're not stopping. Drive past."
"Have you ever heard of Find My Friends?"
"What?"
"It's a tracking device on Apple. It is enabled between my phone and my mom's. She can see exactly where I am."
"What!"
"All she will see is that I am at work."
"She'll see us driving away!"
"No, I'm going to leave my phone there and pick it up on the way back."
That silenced him.
"So, what's your name?"
He shot me another glare. I was getting used to it by now. "Do you think I'd really give you my name?"
"How stupid do you think I am? Of course I expect you to use an alias. Just so I have something to call you."
He was obviously working on perfecting his glare.
I tried to encourage him. "I'm Luigi."
"Thats your name?"
"No, it's my alias. Always has been."
"Then call me Bowser."
I allowed a satisfied smirk to appear on my face, then pulled the car partially onto a long winding driveway and got out.
"Aren't you going to shut it off?" Bowser asked.
"No," I whispered back. "The driveway is long enough that the people living here can't see or hear it, but if people drive past, it'll look like I am on my way up or down; if I'm just parked there, lights off, they'll know that something's up."
I could see him staring at me in the red glow of my taillights as we left the car behind.
"You've put a lot of thought in this," he said.
"What can I say?" I shrugged. "I deserve that bonus."
He chuckled softly. We walked up the road until the trees thinned out, then resorted to crawling in the ditch. Not a soul was to be seen, but when we got in view of the warehouse, there was light streaming from the windows.
"What's that?"
I groaned audibly. "The boss's sons sometimes host their friends there when their parents don't want them in the house. You should see the mess they leave the place in! And guess who gets to clean it up." My phone vibrated. I pulled it out, lowering the brightness immediately. Mom had sent a smiley face and a thumbs up. I hit clear message, re-checked the silent mode, then shoved the phone back in my pocket.
We crept closer to the warehouse. My heart pounded while I ran to the tree, then to the warehouse wall. I crouched underneath a window to watch the man follow in my footsteps. We tried to silence the sound of our breathing, but with the laughter coming from inside, there was no way anyone could hear us.
The wind was chilly. I flipped up the collar of my leather jacket, glad I had gone for a tough look today. I had found out that I could do almost anything if I was dressed for it, and today it was breaking the law.
I crossed in front of the door to the outdoor chairs sitting there, then motioned him to come too. He got there just in time. The laughter neared the door, and a bunch of teenagers came out. They walked over to their cars and stood there talking.
Just then my blood went cold. Cars. A lot of cars. A lot of fast cars. No sirens or lights announced it, but we both knew what they were.
Bowser spat out a curse.
"Shut your mouth!" I hissed back. "I might be helping you break into a store but you do not use the name of God in vain or I will give you away!"
He shot me a glare, but turned to stare in horror as the police cars pulled into the parking lot.
"We've got to run for it."
He couldn't hear me, and wouldn't look at me either. I couldn't blame him; the sheer horror of the situation was very fascinating. The cops got out and walked over to the teens standing there.
"Bowser! Run!"
He looked at me then, but quickly swirled his head back to the cops, who must not have heard me. "We can't run. Then they'll see us for sure!"
I jumped up anyways and dashed for the side of the building. All eyes swivelled to me and I hear the click of pistols being cocked as the officers raised their weapons. Bowser got to me first.
Grabbing my hair, he arrested my flight. I felt the tip of his gun against my temple, but it wasn't cold. This affirmed my suspicions.
"Let me go, or she dies."
We were at a stalemate. No one moved.
"Don't worry," I announced. "It's a plastic gun." His grasp on my hair went tighter, then I felt it relax. I could imagine the blood draining from his face behind me. "Not that it would have mattered, anyways," I continued. "There's no clip in it."
The officers stepped towards us, unsure at first if what I was doing was a ploy too. But when Bowser dropped his phoney gun to the ground and backed away, they swooped in and hand cuffed him. A man with the chief's badge pulled me aside.
"Your name, miss?"
"Kali. Kali Jones, sir."
He pulled out his phone and checked something. "And your mother's name?"
"Lisa, or it probably says Elizebeth in your files. Her maiden name is Hildebrandt."
"And what were you doing here?"
"Distracting your quarry, sir."
"How did you know we were after him?"
"He was walking alongside the road with a gun, sir."
He shook his head, but I could see a smile tug at the corners of his lips. "We'll have to escort you back to the police station."
"And my car, sir? It's the one idling on the driveway a little back."
"I'll have one of my officers bring it around, if you don't mind."
Now it was my turn to smile. I didn't see that I had much of a choice. I handed him the keys, and he escorted me to a police cruiser. From that vantage point, I seen other officers depositing Bowser, without his mask now, into the back of another car. Identical to mine. Wait. I was in the back seat of a cop car— after almost robbing my employers— after taking a stranger for a ride— a male stranger, at that— in the dark— alone— at night—
"Are you all right, miss?" A younger officer had climbed into the driver's seat and was looking back at me.
"Oh!" I could feel my muscles relaxing now; I must have had a ridiculous expression on my face. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to list all the things that I had never even thought of doing and now accomplished all in one night!"
He laughed, then his partner got in, and we drove to the police station.