Short Stories by Me

Oak Doors Instalment Co.

No one was out. There had been a lockdown. Only the occasional car zoomed past, and every time, the world held its breath in surprise and suspense.

The black sky provided no light, the moon tucked behind clouds. Only every other lamp post was on and working.

Silently, so you would barely notice, a police cruiser slowed to a stop at the red light. Right behind it, a large truck with a very large trailer pulled up behind it, then another police cruiser.

The trailer was large, with fading letters. But you could just make out that it said, in what used to be bold letters,

Oak Doors Instalment Co.

In the first cruiser, an officer reported into his radio, "The doors are secure."

Behind the trailer, the second officer replied. "The doors are secure."

In the front seat of the truck sat a very nervous man. His hands were clammy, his face pale. His chest rose up and down, up and down.

A radio on his dashboard was speaking. He stared at it, not moving.

"Keeper, are you there? Keeper!"

The man, Keeper snapped out of his daze. He snatched up the radio and spoke into it quickly. "The doors are secure, the doors are secure."

"Stay calm, Keeper," came the reply. "We're almost there."

"And yet we're still too far," another voice grumbled. "We have to move fast. Only an hour, they said. Then they'd activate the bomb."

"The doors, the doors..." Keeper whispered to himself, so the radio wouldn't hear. Then, louder this time, he gathered the courage to ask the question he'd been wondering about since he was told to get in the truck. "Where did we get the jewels?"

A burst of rage yelled from the radio.

"The doors! The doors!"

"Ssh, we might be tapped!"

"The doors! The Doors!"

"Shut up!"

"The doors, the doors!"

"The doors the doors the doors!"

Two enemies were too much. One threatening to nuke America, one attempting to steal the ransom.

One lay behind, coming up fast, the other lounging up ahead waiting to give a command.

A gunshot boomed not far behind them, and the cruiser in the front sped up for a second, but Keeper suggested that they move faster.

In Keeper's mirror, he could see through the window peering into the trailer. The gold and diamonds and other precious jewels winked back at them from their plush cushions. Keeper still didn't know why they chose him to move him, or why in a door instalment truck, or where they had gotten it all. And honestly, he didn't really want to know.

The thing that overwhelmed Keeper was that the contents of the trailer was worth millions of dollars. And they were handing it right to the villains of the story. But what could they do?

Wild yelling, screaming, and whooping crashed in through the cracked windows of the truck. They were getting closer.

Sweat beaded on Keeper's forehead. They were getting closer... closer... closer still... soon they would be on them.

"Faster!" One of the officers shouted on the radio. "We have to hurry!"

"You think we're not trying?" the other shouted. "If we go too fast the doors will crack!"

The doors. The doors.

"They're in my sights-" the officer called through the radio. "I see-"

CRRRACK!

The gunshot echoed through the air, and Keeper saw the cruiser behind him flip off the road, and three new cars took its place. But these weren't more police.

The villains whooped, aiming their guns at the truck and Keeper heard bullets pelting the back of the trailer. It was a horrifying sound, making Keeper's heart squeeze every time he heard it. He had never felt this amount of stress and pressure in his life, and he was waiting for the moment that it would crack him. Pang, pang, clank, CRRRRRACK!

A bullet penetrated the back of the trailer, and it zoomed to the window that Keeper had used to look at the precious metals and priceless jewels. A crack spread and Keeper knew that one more good shot like that and it would be coming mighty close to Keeper's head. He didn't feel like losing that today.

"Keeper, go ahead of cruiser one."

"But then-" Keeper began to protest, looking at the man in the car in front of him.

"Now. This is an order."

Keeper didn't answer. He just sped as fast as he could to get in front of the cruiser in front of him. It proved difficult, because the cruiser was nearly as fast as Keeper's truck and trailer.

When they were side by side (for a few seconds, anyway), Keeper made eye contact with the police officer in the car. The man had red eyes, a few tears, too. His hair was flat against his head for the sweat. But his face wasn't pale with fright. It was red with anger and determination. Just the type of person Keeper wished he could be.

Not scared.

But with a calming deep breath and a determined look in his eye, Keeper pushed the gas as far as it could go.

Hello, friends! This story was inspired when I saw a big truck followed by two police cars one day, and I thought 'Sure, that truck is full of valuables and those police are protecting them' because I'm weird like that.

Thank you and GOODNIGHT!