Getaway Driver

Trade County one afternoon in downtown traffic...

I stopped on the one way street on the right side and waited for the light to turn green to turn the block and get to the Winchester Bank. A man opened the door to my Porsche 911 and climbed in bleeding blood everywhere on my white leather seats. I automatically screamed in surprise.
In a British accent he yelled, "Drive!!!" with a gun to my temple. I put it in gear and pushed on the gas as he held a .357 mag. against my fragile mind.
I uttered, "Okay." as I flinched. I drove on the sidewalk past the cars and ran a light.
He said, "Route 73 and go as fast as this overpriced thing can."
In a subdued voice I said, "Okay, okay, yes whatever you want." I looked over down at what the man was wearing. Very oddly dressed in a pricey green and black striped suit, white Adidas trainers and no socks. The man had an obvious bullet wound in his side stomach, a deeper scrape inside his coat to his once white T-shirt. He had a full extra-large Neiman Marcus bag of 50-100 dollar bills spilling out.  The man was pointing the gun at me while holding his wound. I let tears fall down my face feeling death was near me. I was going to die one way or another today. Then I dared to look up at his face.

His hair was a long, straight, and shining white. He was made up with the skin of a colorless, white features that were perfectly chiseled. Oh then the eyes, oh my god they were unreal. The eyes I dared to take a peek at once were a painfully gorgeous shiny sky-blue darting back and forth from me to the speedometer. The man was unreal and unconventionally beautiful. There was only one explanation: He was a British vampire bank robber who lured you in with his extraordinary eyes.

The British man asked in a roaring, breathy voice, "What is your name?" I was shaky driving 100-120 mph on my new tires by thick traffic on the interstate. My baby! Oh my goodness. It was wishful thinking I would get free from the unconventionally handsome criminal.
In fear I told the truth, "Stella Locksley, and you are The Ghost, aka Adravayne they talk of on the news." The pale ethereal man bellowed, "You will only call me Adra, the ghost is for papers. I guess the news spends all their time speculating and ridiculing me!"
"Adra you need first aid or you will go into shock." The bloodied man yelled, "It is nothing but a scratch Stella Locksley, drive!" He slammed his fist into my dash, my beautiful dash. This custom car was my entire love in life. Now it would die or be stolen like me.
I inquired, "You robbed the bank next to the capital I take it, but before that you stole a suit in the dressing room of Neiman Marcus and walked out without matching shoes. Are you blind as well as a vampire?"
Adra irritably asked, "You have first aid in this souped up trophy of yours?"
I answered, "Of course I do. In the back." I was changing lanes like a hero, if I came upon a cop I started to go even faster but it tore me up to do that. I passed cops and the helicopters hadn't come out when we were an hour and a half away even. Traffic subsided and we lost everyone as we drove into the desert.
Adra yelled, "Exit 187 now." I turned off into the exit that headed down to the desolate desert and felt my pulse quicken at the thought of sanding my car. I had insurance; I had to keep telling myself that. I did about 60 down the two lane road and we were out in the middle of nowhere.
Then a turn off road came up and after all the silence he lightly snarled, "Turn in here and drive for five miles to the end of the road, we stay there tonight." I looked over into his unbearably beautiful cold pale-blue eyes completely for the first time and felt a shudder. It gave me a thrill to see him and I turned away in terror from the gun he held higher as I looked at him. Five miles down the road was a postage stamp sized adobe house. I parked my baby in his garage (thank god) and I was led inside the house with my briefcase and purse and his bag that was full of black & olive green designer suits/50$ bills in huge bag from Neiman Marcus. Then the jerk confiscated my beautiful keys before we went inside. I was zip tied and gagged.

There was a huge antique dresser with a humongous flat screen hooked to a computer and a wireless keyboard. Across from it was a queen sized bed with pillows to make a couch, and the other room was a kitchen with a table and a bathroom off the side. It was cramped and stark. Adra dumped the money in a drawer and folded the suits up inside the dresser. Adra turned on the flat screen to the local news webpage and saw a photo for a missing woman named Stella Locksley who was possibly in cahoots as the getaway driver. Then there he was, a ghost of a picture, no one, but I knew he was a freaky vampire with creepy looks and intense eyes under the mask.