The cold air tickled my nose as I fell from roof of Triumph National Bank's corporate building. January probably wasn't the best time for this, I thought to myself as reflective windows mirrored my descent. My father had done this countless times and now the government had him locked up like an animal. What they didn't understand was the Hood was a symbol, not just a man wearing it.
"Kyle, you need to hit the brake, son. You're coming in too fast," Uncle John said into my earpiece. His voice was booming, yet gentle. At six feet seven inches tall and almost three hundred pounds he was a giant of a man. To my father, though, he would always be his dearest friend, Little John.
I reached behind my head and grabbed the brake handle dangling haplessly from the wire. A gentle pull usually slowed me down, but with all the added weight strapped around me I had to give it a much harder yank. The friction of the brake caused a convulsion-like sensation in my hand which made me nervous, but the truth was I was born for this. I pulled harder as the ground below grew more ominous. The pale street lights made it feel as if I were falling into a lake of fire. Not this thief; at least not tonight. My plummet stalled to a stop as my feet hovered only a few feet in the air. I could hear Uncle John let out his breath in a way that made it sound as if he had been holding it.
"Relax, Uncle John, you and Dad taught me well," I said moments after my feet touched the ground and I began walking towards the dark van parked less than thirty yards away. The heavy bags on my shoulders were starting to make my arms go numb and I looked forward to dropping my burden.
"I know that, but your mother will kill me if she ever finds out I let you do this," he answered once the sliding door of the van opened. The paint of the door was chipping where it once read, "Sherwood Carpets" in large white letters. The van was a loner from another unfortunate business owner crippled by the corporate conglomerates taking over the city. Ours was a war for the little people, no matter what kind of spin the media frenzy made it sound like.
I climbed into the passenger seat and Uncle John tousled my hair before speeding off. I was sixteen and still he treated me like a five year old. What was wrong with a high five or fist bump? Some things just never changed I suppose. "We need to hurry because she gets off work in ten minutes," I said looking at the green numbers on the dash. My Mom worked two jobs; one as a cleaning lady and the other as a bartender. She hated both, but with Dad in jail and no other legitimate sources of income available she did the best she could. I could only hope the bags in the back of the van could ease the strain a little.
Uncle John took a hard right turn making the van feel as if it were about to speed down the street on just two wheels. There wasn't a lot of things that made me nervous, but my dear uncle's driving usually made the list. I instinctually looked over at him as his knuckles tightened with his grip on the wheel. His dark skin made his beard barely visible in the dim light, but I could see the intense concentration in his eyes.
"What's with the stunt driving?" I asked. I let a nervous chuckle escape my lips accidentally.
He shot me a glance and then looked at the dashboard clock. "That's about ten minutes fast, Kyle. Your mother might beat us home," he said.
My heart sank and I choked down a couple of cuss words I didn't want him to hear. Uncle John was very protective of me, but that didn't mean he wouldn't drop the hammer if I got a little "too big for my britches" as he would say.
"Let me handle your mother if we get caught."
I looked over in his direction and didn't respond. All I could do was say a little prayer and hope the buses ran a little late; both for my own sake and for Uncle John. She may have been known as the Maiden a few years ago, but that didn't mean she was too delicate to bring a grown man to his knees. I let out a sigh and remembered what it was like growing up in Sherwood, before the life I knew was shattered. Before the man known as Robin Hood lost his freedom to save his family.
