Sam held his breath, sweat was building up over his eyebrows. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the room. He had sensed motion to his right side and he had instantly went frozen. In the dim light he couldn't see anyone but he knew better than to believe that. People could be hiding anywhere in the large open room behind the door, waiting for him to emerge.
After several moments of nothingness, Sam finally relaxed. There's was no one. He quickly snatched the black duffel bag off the floor and headed back into the safe. Over the past several years, Sam had gotten good at breaking into the banks around the city. It was a new bank every week, he never liked to target one in specific. Sam was rich, yes. He could have stopped robbing banks long ago, yes. But now he was doing it for the thrill- the thrill of running, the thrill of not getting caught.
He grabbed the bills in handfuls, making sure it all went into the duffel bag. He let a smile rest on his face. Once the bag was full enough, he zipped it shut and headed back the way he came in. He made sure to check the alarms, which he had disabled, and start the countdown for them to turn back on. That meant he had two minutes to get out of the building, find his getaway car, and leave the premise.
While walking back through the main room, where usually the bank tellers are and desks are scattered around the room for meetings, he kept his head low. The one thing he hadn't figured out yet was how to disable the cameras, so the red blinking light was lighting the room up. In order for him to not get caught, he wore a different mask to each bank and kept his head down.
He counted the seconds down in his head, when he reached the door he had one minute left. He walked a little bit down the sidewalk, trying to act normal. But there wasn't anyone around at 2am so he didn't bump into any people. He slipped off the gloves and mask and shoved them in the side pocket of the bag. When he gets home he would burn them in the fireplace, he had to get rid of the evidence. With him walking away, it would be easier for his getaway driver to spot him. Sam filled his lungs with the crisp fall air, his driver should have spotted him by now. He kept cool and continued walking, the duffel bag was slung over his shoulder but Sam kept a tight grip on it.
Corey, was his best friend and his getaway driver. Sam had told him about robbing banks when Corey had found his stash of bills tucked under the tiles of the bathroom floor. Sam had made a deal with Corey and now he's the getaway driver and is allowed to keep some of the money. But sometimes Corey is unreliable. Like right now, Corey should have already picked up Sam and they should be on their way home. But Corey probably fell asleep waiting for Sam to exit the building. And Sam couldn't contact Corey because he had left his phone in the car.
Sam had walked a solid block and he was starting to get anxious. He could hear the loud siren of the bank behind him, signaling it had been robbed. Soon cops would be swarming the place, blocking off a ten mile radius, and searching anyone on the street. Sam had to get out of the area. He quickened his pace and looked around the street. He suddenly saw headlights show up behind him and he sighed in relief. He swung his left arm before shooting it straight up in the sky, a signal that he had designed so Corey would know it was him. The car pulled over to the curb and within a heartbeat Sam was seated in the backseat.
"Corey, I swear- oh," Sam stopped short. The person sitting behind the wheel was not Corey. Sams grip on the bag tightened. The man turned in his seat to look at Sam.
"You're not Corey," Sam gulped, looking at the bright blue eyes the man owned. The man laughed, it was deep and almost angelic. Sam was too worried about getting caught than enthralling himself into the man.
"No, I'm Colby," the man said, his voice was deep just like his laugh. It was scratchy too like he had just woken up. In his attempt of escaping, Sam had jumped into the wrong car.
