Read Online Precipice: The Beginning by Kevin J. Howard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kevin J. Howard
Tags: Science-Fiction, LT
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Dasher spoke to the rearview, looking back at the two men as they nodded in unison, no real expression across their rough exteriors. “Nick?”
“Oh I was born ready baby. Let’s rip this whore apart!” Nick let out a little howl, mimicking an old horny fox from a cartoon he remembered as a child. “I want it. I want it.”
“Just stick to the plan.” Dashed poked Nick on the shoulder to gain his full attention. “Do you got it?”
“Don’t worry. Stick to the plan.” Nick nodded eagerly.
Dasher took a deep breath and put the car in drive and pulled up to the curb in front of the bank. He left the engine running and threw open the door, pulling down on the knit mask to cover his face. The men hopped out of the back, all four of them on the curb with shotguns in hand. Dasher led them inside, firing a little announcement shot into the ceiling.
“Everyone get down on the floor and stay cool!” Dasher yelled over the screaming customers. “Just get down on the floor and keep quiet. This money is insured by the government so there’s no need to risk your own lives.”
Nick ran up to the counter and pointed his shotgun at the young teller. “Get the fucking money out!”
“Where’s the manager?”
A scrawny man raised his hand from behind the counter, his arm shaking. He looked as if a strong breeze could blow him over.
“You’re going to take me to the safe,” Dasher ordered as he hopped over the counter, pressing the barrel of his shotgun into the middle of the man’s back.
Dasher followed the manager past the tellers into the back room, taking a brief look back over his shoulder to make sure his partners were doing their part. The two meatballs were guarding the entrance while Nick moved from teller to teller with his bag open, begging like a desperate trick-or-treater. Looked like things were actually going according to his plan.
“Just open the safe and lay on the floor, okay?” Dasher instructed the bank manager as they reached the vault door. Dasher saw the man’s body trembling beneath his black suit coat and it made him feel bad. “Look, just open the safe and lay down, that’s it. All we want is the money.” Dasher tried to reassure, but the manager’s shoulders continued to shake.
The manager pulled a plastic badge with his picture on it from his pocket. He waved the card before a sensor and entered a ten-digit code in the keypad beside the door. The light changed from red to green as the door’s numerous locks began to retract. With a final click, the thick door swung open.
“Get down and keep still,” Dasher ordered, pressing down firmly on the manager’s shoulders as he moved to the ground, lacing his hands behind his head like a child hiding from a scary shadow at bedtime.
Dasher stepped into the vault, lowering his weapon to his side, temporarily forgetting it was even there as he became overwhelmed with emotion. Before him were tall stacks of hundred dollar bills sitting neatly on three shelves, just sitting there as if waiting for him to come and collect them. It was a thing of pure beauty, like a dream being placed inside a balloon and handed to you, something tangible. Time itself slowed to a crawl so he could process this range of emotion. This was his moment. The thing he dreamt about while sleeping on hard cement sidewalks in the rain or digging through the trashcans behind some random restaurant. Dasher felt as if he were hyperventilating. He took a deep breath and pulled himself back into the present, remembering where he was and the stakes at hand. Dasher pulled a canvas bag from the back of his pants and held it open, throwing in the stacks of money as neatly as he could despite the trembling of his hands.
Nick was growing impatient. Now that all the registers had been emptied, he had nothing to do. He set the bag full of money by the front door, maybe a few thousand dollars worth, definitely a nice haul. Nick began to pace, looking over the scared faces of
“Oh I was born ready baby. Let’s rip this whore apart!” Nick let out a little howl, mimicking an old horny fox from a cartoon he remembered as a child. “I want it. I want it.”
“Just stick to the plan.” Dashed poked Nick on the shoulder to gain his full attention. “Do you got it?”
“Don’t worry. Stick to the plan.” Nick nodded eagerly.
Dasher took a deep breath and put the car in drive and pulled up to the curb in front of the bank. He left the engine running and threw open the door, pulling down on the knit mask to cover his face. The men hopped out of the back, all four of them on the curb with shotguns in hand. Dasher led them inside, firing a little announcement shot into the ceiling.
“Everyone get down on the floor and stay cool!” Dasher yelled over the screaming customers. “Just get down on the floor and keep quiet. This money is insured by the government so there’s no need to risk your own lives.”
Nick ran up to the counter and pointed his shotgun at the young teller. “Get the fucking money out!”
“Where’s the manager?”
A scrawny man raised his hand from behind the counter, his arm shaking. He looked as if a strong breeze could blow him over.
“You’re going to take me to the safe,” Dasher ordered as he hopped over the counter, pressing the barrel of his shotgun into the middle of the man’s back.
Dasher followed the manager past the tellers into the back room, taking a brief look back over his shoulder to make sure his partners were doing their part. The two meatballs were guarding the entrance while Nick moved from teller to teller with his bag open, begging like a desperate trick-or-treater. Looked like things were actually going according to his plan.
“Just open the safe and lay on the floor, okay?” Dasher instructed the bank manager as they reached the vault door. Dasher saw the man’s body trembling beneath his black suit coat and it made him feel bad. “Look, just open the safe and lay down, that’s it. All we want is the money.” Dasher tried to reassure, but the manager’s shoulders continued to shake.
The manager pulled a plastic badge with his picture on it from his pocket. He waved the card before a sensor and entered a ten-digit code in the keypad beside the door. The light changed from red to green as the door’s numerous locks began to retract. With a final click, the thick door swung open.
“Get down and keep still,” Dasher ordered, pressing down firmly on the manager’s shoulders as he moved to the ground, lacing his hands behind his head like a child hiding from a scary shadow at bedtime.
Dasher stepped into the vault, lowering his weapon to his side, temporarily forgetting it was even there as he became overwhelmed with emotion. Before him were tall stacks of hundred dollar bills sitting neatly on three shelves, just sitting there as if waiting for him to come and collect them. It was a thing of pure beauty, like a dream being placed inside a balloon and handed to you, something tangible. Time itself slowed to a crawl so he could process this range of emotion. This was his moment. The thing he dreamt about while sleeping on hard cement sidewalks in the rain or digging through the trashcans behind some random restaurant. Dasher felt as if he were hyperventilating. He took a deep breath and pulled himself back into the present, remembering where he was and the stakes at hand. Dasher pulled a canvas bag from the back of his pants and held it open, throwing in the stacks of money as neatly as he could despite the trembling of his hands.
Nick was growing impatient. Now that all the registers had been emptied, he had nothing to do. He set the bag full of money by the front door, maybe a few thousand dollars worth, definitely a nice haul. Nick began to pace, looking over the scared faces of
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