Lights (Scomiche)

Cooperation

 

If he ever made it out of here alive he was pretty sure he would never be able to sleep peacefully again.

He sat against the counter where they had lined everyone up. Blood slid from his busted lip and he did his best to wipe it off on his shoulder. He’d gotten into a bit of trouble as they were being rounded up and their hands zip tied behind their backs. The man holding his wrists together discovered he’d neglected to hand over all of his valuables when he spotted the outline of his wallet in his back pocket and once that happened...well.. let’s just say the butt end of a gun to the face is really, really painful. He hadn’t meant to keep it, he’d just been so worried about giving up his phone that he’d forgotten it. The wallet was confiscated and his hands bound together tight enough he was sure he would lose circulation.

Still, he never lifted his eyes and he kept his mouth shut.

His strategy seemed to be working as he was forgotten within seconds of the ordeal.

He tried to shift his arms, trying to make sure his bracelet stayed hidden by scooting it back up his arm. He wasn’t sure how he would explain to them that the only way it could be removed was with a screwdriver, which was inconveniently located in his Celine bag.. in Scott’s car. He imagined they’d just try to chop his hand off to get it or break and/or dislocate his fingers to slide it off. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that and prayed it remained hidden in the sleeve of his sweater.

Another shot pierced the quiet and he scrunched his eyes shut once again as the screams and cries rang out. He didn’t want to see, was sure he’d lose it if he did. Just the sounds were bad enough without seeing the carnage.

He knew there were at least 4 children, including one baby, joining him on the hostage list. He’d heard them each cry at different times. He tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t heard the baby cry in quite some time.

He wondered if Scott was outside worrying about him. Was he afraid? Was he calm? Had he freaked out yet?.

He hadn’t expected to, but he soon got his answers. He really wished he hadn’t.

___

No one would tell him anything. There were cops, trucks, lights, sirens. It was a damn carnival outside of the building. He’d been asked lots of questions about Mitch, what he’d seen when he dropped him off, all kinds of things, but no one wanted to tell him a damn thing.

He’d been pushed back behind a barricade and didn’t know what to do besides pace back and forth.

10 minutes.

He’d let him out of his sight for 10 fucking minutes and now …  

He was panicking, the worst thoughts flying through his head. More trucks, more sirens, more uniforms and tents. He heard helicopters in the distance and knew that this was beyond a nightmare.

He didn’t know what to do. He felt so completely useless.

He did the only thing he could think of ... and called Alex.

 

“Hey you. How’s Chipotle.”

He felt the tears finally start to fall. “M.. Mitch is in trouble and I can’t help him. I don’t know if he’s dead … oh God… what if he’s dead? Alex what if… “

“Woah, woah. Scott slow down. What happened to Mitch?”

“He’s in the bank! The bank is…” He couldn’t even speak, the reality of it all pressing down on him.

“Scott talk to me. What is happening at the bank!”

“There’s cops everywhere. I swear I heard someone say FBI. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh my God.”

“It was only 10 minutes. I didn’t want to stand and wait in line with him. He’s alone because I…”

“Tell me where you are. I’m on my way.”

_

The bank phone rang about 3 times but no one answered it. He could hear the cops outside trying to get them to pick it up. He wasn’t sure what they were using, megaphones, speaker systems, or what, but the gunmen were obviously not impressed.

Then they had about 2 minutes of nothing but the whispers of the bad guys determining their next move and the muffled sounds of helicopters.

When he heard the familiar text tone he cringed. Everyone was too afraid to be making very much noise and every tiny sound echoed through the empty space. It’s not like it was hard to mistake the snippet of ‘Lemonade’ as his own. He’d heard a few others buzz and vibrate, but apparently he was the only one who hadn’t been living with their phone on vibrate.

Everyone ignored it the first time, they were too busy arguing, but the second notification came a few minutes later and he felt his heart stop.

“Which one of you is Michelle?"

He prayed he was mistaken, prayed they had chosen a different phone.

“Speak up!”

He started to stay quiet, to not answer, but knew if they looked through it they would match his face to his pictures and then he’d be done.

“It’s mine.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice shook, barely above a whisper. He nearly cringed at the approaching footsteps.

“Your parents must have hated you.”

“It’s a nickname.” He said it out of reflex and quickly gave himself a mental reminder to stfu.

“Well, Michelle," he mocked him, "Looks like your friend Alex is worried about you, but that's not what I care about. Scott says he’s outside waiting for you, which is fortunate because you’re going to call him and he’s going to get us what we want.

His eyes raised before he could stop them. He couldn’t help it, the very idea of dragging Scott into this absolutely terrified him.  “Please don’t involve him.”

The masked man chuckled and took his chin in his hand, fingers digging in painfully. “You’re going to call him or I’m going to deliver you to him personally, in a blender.”

He fought to hold back tears as the man released him but two others pulled him up and to his feet. He didn’t make the mistake of trying to struggle.

He watched in horror as the man hit the button to call Scott and then put it on speaker phone, holding it close to Mitch’s mouth.  He knew he wasn’t ready for this, clenched his fists and prayed he didn’t answer, but then he heard that shaky voice saying his name.

“Mitchie?” He closed his eyes as he heard the fear, but also the hope in his voice, knew he was about to crush that hope.

“Scott…” That’s when the tears fell, he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Thank GOD. I was so scared, are you ok? Please tell me you’re ok.”

“He’s fine. For now.”

He hung his head as the masked man took over the conversation. He imagined Scott’s face when he realized the situation and it nearly broke him.

It was quiet for a moment. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“Well, you see Scott, that’s all up to you. If you do exactly what I say, he stays in one piece, we’re all happy. You fuck with me...”  The man used a free hand to take Mitch by the hair and yank it back so he looked into his eyes. He couldn’t stop the yelp that he loosed at the painful grip.  “and I will rip out his eyes with my bare hands and use the sockets to get off. Do you understand me.”

He hated hearing the sadness, the fear and the tears in Scott’s reply.

“Yes. I’ll do anything.”

“Good. Go tell your little cop buddies that we’ll talk to you and only you. Keep your phone charged Scottie boy. We’ll be in touch.”