In Charge

Jim stood smoking a cigarette on the corner of the street, leaning casually against a light post.  He wore jeans, some old dirty brown boots, a t-shirt, and a cracked and faded leather jacket.  He had aviators on and a bandanna that covered his face.  He wore a .44 revolver in a holster at his hip.  Two duffle bags sat on either side of him.  The street was empty, save for the few empty cars parked on the side of streets.  Jim looked down at his watch.  It was time.  He dropped his still burning and smoking cigarette on the ground, picked up the bags and walked across the street to the bank.  As he stepped onto the sidewalk a van pulled up right on time, and three men jumped out from the back.  Each man carried a bag.  One man was armed with a shotgun, another with a sub-machine gun, and the last man with a semi-automatic pistol.  The four of them rushed into he bank.  While the other three men rounded everyone up, Jim approached the clerk at the main desk and set the two duffle bags on the counter.  He pointed his .44 right in the man's face.

"Fill the bags now, and do it quickly," he said.  The clerk hurriedly began stuffing stacks of cash into the bags.

Behind him a woman began screaming hysterically.  She would not stop.

"Shut her up damn it," said Jim.

"SHUT UP!"  shouted the man with the pistol.  "I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP."  She would not stop.

"Shut her up NOW!"  shouted Jim, "and give me your bags, we need to get moving."  The man with the shogun threw Jim the other bags.

"SHUT UP!" the man with the pistol was still shouting.  Finally he kicked her over then shot her.

"Damn it dude," said the man with the machine gun, "why don't you call the fuckin' cops yourself?"

Jim was still making sure the clerk was filling the bags with cash.    Once he was finished Jim told them to grab the bags and get moving.  He shot the clerk in the head.

"You, finish up here," he said motioning to the man with the machine gun.  The man nodded.  He turned and shot the rest of the people then ran out and got into the van.  The van driver pressed down the gas and began driving away just as two cop cars came screeching around the corner.  Then the chase began.  Jim opened one side of the back door and grabbing the machine gun began firing at the police.  The police fired back.

"Shit, we're fucked man, we ain't gettin' outta this now!" said the driver.

"Keep driving!" shouted Jim.  The man with the shotgun leaned out the front driver side window and began shooting as well.  When his shotgun was out of ammo he reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade.  He pulled the pin and threw it right at the front police car.  The grenade broke through the glass and landed in the car.  The cop car exploded and the other car in the back ran into it, spun out and hit another car parked on the street, causing a massive pile up to happen.

"Good one!" said Jim smiling at the man.

They drove away out into the desert, only stopping once they were a good ways away from the town.  They pulled off into a small valley area that used to be a mining facility.  It had been shut down years ago due to a radiation leak, but they were pretty sure it was safe to be down there now.  They were hidden from view and no one would ever come looking for them there.  The five of them got out of the van and began shaking hand and patting each other on the back.

"You all did great," said Jim, "especially you buddy."  He ruffled the driver's hair.  The driver was young, n more than eighteen.  But Jim didn't care.  He stepped back from them all, smiling, then pulled his .44 and quickly shot them all down dead.  He nodded his head and then holstered his gun.  Whistling a merry tune he loaded up the guns and the cash into the second car they had waiting for them there, an SUV, and climbed in and began driving away.

Still whistling he pulled into a gas station a few miles down the road to fill up and grab a few snacks.  He was still dressed the same except he had taken his bandanna off his face.  He pulled up t the pump and stepped out of the car.  It was not uncommon for people to be wearing guns on their hips, so when he walked into the store the middle aged man at the counter smiled and nodded at him.  Jim walked to the drink section and and stared at the different drinks through the glass for a minute.  Finally he opened the case and grabbed a bottle of cola and then walked over to the rack of snacks.  He stood there for another minute.  He grabbed a bag of peanut butter crackers and then approached the counter.  He set his snacks on the counter and pulled out his wallet, taking out a fifty dollar bill.  He set it on the counter.

"What ever is left put on the pump for gas," Jim said in a bored voice.  He felt sluggish.  He almost felt sick.

"Alrighty then," said the store owner with a a smile.  "Alright so it's $2.15 for the cola and crackers, so that leaves $47.85 for the pump."  He began typing the numbers into the machine.  "Did you hear about the bank robbery in Minnot?  It's only about thirty miles up north there.  Bunch of people got murdered in it.  It was just on the radio, the guys were headed down this way in a van.  I'm ready if they show up here."  He nodded towards the corner where a shotgun was leaning against the wall, and he patted his hip where he was holstering a pistol.  "I won't let them get out of here without a fight."

"It's amazing how quickly news gets around," said Jim flatly.

"Oh I know, modern technology is pretty amazing," the man said.  "Alrighty, well here you are, your receipt and the pump is already."  The man handed the paper to Jim happily.  Jim didn't take it, he just kept staring at the owner.  "Um...is everything alright, sir?"

"Why do you think those guys did it?  Why do you think they robbed that bank and murdered those people?"

"Well...I expect it was for the money."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."  Jim pulled his gun and shot the store owner in the head.  He smiled and walked out to the pump.  He filled the tank and walked back into the store.  he picked up a basket this time and filled it with more food and some water bottles.  "Thank you kindly," he said to the dead owner as he left.  He climbed into the SUV and began driving.

He thought about the gas station owner's answer to his question.  His answer was wrong.  It wasn't about the money.  The money was a perk.  What it really was about was control.  Jim had organized his team, roped them in with lies about sharing the cash.  They helped him get away, then he killed them.  It was the first time Jim and been in control of anything.  It was first time he had felt powerful.  It had been the first time he had felt like he had done something that would make him a man.  Now people would respect him.  Now he could treat people like shit, and people would be too scared to do anything about it.  He was in charge now.

* * *

"So tell us what happened," said the police officer to the homeless man.

"Well, I done see the car drivin' up the road, and so I think, I'll ask for a ride.  But as he drivin' up dat jackrabbit come runnin' 'cross the road, and dat guy just, he just swerve his car to not hit it, but he lose control and go flyin' off da road into dat tree."

The cops had found the crashed SUV and Jim Burnson's dead body inside the day after the bank robbery.  The homeless man had seen the whole thing and was more than happy to tell anyone who would listen what had happened.  They had found the other robbers' bodies and the van at the old mining site, as well as the dead gas station owner.

"He crashed trying not to hit a rabbit," said one of the cops with a small laugh.

"I know right?  He kills all those people but dies trying to to kill a damn rabbit," said the other cop.  They stood staring at the wreck shaking their heads.

"People are crazy," said the first cop.

"You can say that again," the second cop said with a chuckle looking at the homeless man waving his arms around, telling and showing a paramedic what had happened.