By: Nitta Pann

“This could be that moment.” Calvin sighed. He took a drag of his cigarette.
Jonathan crinkled his nose and glanced over at his partner. Calvin was slouched in his seat, an arm positioned out the window, staring at the empty road.
“What do you mean?” Jon asked. He focused his attention back on the road.
“You know, like the thing you’ve been waiting to do your whole life.”
“I never wanted to rob a bank.”
“And yet here we are.” Calvin chuckled. Flicking the small cigarette butt, he checked the side mirror. He rubbed a hand through his blonde hair, making sure each strand was where it was intended. Satisfied, he looked over at Jon. Jon was gripping the wheel so tightly, Calvin could have sworn that he saw Jon’s bone popping out.
“Do you remember what the plan is?” Calvin drawled, hoping to get rid of the silence that plagued the small car.
“Of course, how could I not?” Jon answered indignantly. “It is our lives on the line. Mine more than yours, anyways.”
“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you weren’t such a screw up.”
“Screw you.”
Silence returned. Calvin fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with the silence. He felt slight guilt for letting Jon in on his plans but he did ask to join. He couldn’t turn him down. He had never seen Jon that desperate before. Jon always had the worst luck. Shaking his head from those thoughts, Calvin reached over to the radio and turned it on. Every few seconds, he changed the station.
“Pick a station and leave it there.” Jon snapped tiredly. He had not gotten much sleep last night. How could he? Jon reached over to turn down the nauseating music. He could have sworn he heard a police siren nearby. He did not dare look in the rear view mirror, only caring to press down on the pedal even harder. The rest of the short drive, neither spoke.
Jon turned into the parking lot. Parking the car near the exit, he turned off the ignition. Calvin sighed, lazily grabbing the black backpack that sat underneath him. With a zip, he began to rummage through its contents.
“You ready?” He grunted.
“Does it matter?” Jon shakily responded.
Calvin tossed him a ski mask, “Put it on, quickly.” Reaching further into the backpack, he pulled out two pistols. Pulling out the clips, Calvin checked to see if it was loaded. Satisfied, he gently pushed it back in and with a click, he turned off the safety handed it to Jon. With shaky hands, Jon reached for it. The black pistol felt cold and heavy in his sweaty hands. While alternating wiping his hands on his blue jeans, Jon couldn’t help but wonder where Calvin got the guns.
“Remember, just let me do the talking. I know how to handle the suits.” Calvin reminded him.
“Yea.” Jon said half heartedly.
Slinging the backpack over his back, Calvin nodded towards Jon. Calvin began to make his way out. Jon reached into his shirt to finger the silver cross. It was slick from his sweat. Grasping it in his palm, he began a to whisper a silent prayer.
“You can ask for forgiveness later, let’s go.” Calvin said poking his head back in the car.
With a sigh, Jon pulled the warm handle of the car door and jogged out. The early morning sun was making its presence known, they could feel its sting on their backs as they made their way to the bank.
They burst through the front door. Only a young clerk and a blading security guard occupied the place. Calvin swore under his breath. Why was there a guard? Of course there’d be one when Jon was with him. Following Calvin’s gesture, Jon raised a shaky arm towards the two.
“Put your hands in the air! Both of you!” Calvin screamed.
The clerks’ arms never been in the air any faster. The guard wearily raised his left arm, keeping an right hand hovering near his hip.
“Don’t try it.” Calvin warned, shifting a steady right hand to the guard.
He glared at Calvin in response. After a few seconds of silence, he strode towards the clerk, shrugging the backpack off his shoulder.
“C’mon. Get all the money from behind the counters and put it in the bag.” Calvin stated calmly.
The clerk hesitated, a look of fear and worry was etched on her face. With a sigh, Calvin moved towards her. “Turn around.” He ordered calmly. The clerk slowly obeyed. He pressed the cold barrel against the back of her head. She screamed in terror.
“Don’t you dare harm her!” The guard shouted, whipping out his pistol in a flurry. He pointed his piece at him.
“You sure you have the balls to pull the trigger if I kill this bitch?” Calvin snorted
A click was his response.
Slowly turning around, an arm draped around the clerk’s nerk, Calvin turned to stare at him.
“You kill me, my boy over there is going to make sure you go down with me.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
Jon could only watch in shock. This was not how things were supposed to go. Knowing better than to jump in the conversation, he only raised the gun to the guard’s balding head. His arm was getting sore, but he dare not switch to his lesser arm.
With a glare, Calvin urged the clerk to get started. With a whimper, she began to walk, with Calvin stalking her ever so closely. The guard and Jon were left behind.
“Why are you doing this?” The guard asked, an eye fixed upon Calvin.
Jon remained silent.
“I understand the other fella over there. But you, you seem like a nice guy.”
“I wouldn’t describe someone holding a gun in my face as nice.” Jon said curtly.
“Maybe. You aren’t the one coming in here yelling and sticking a piece to people’s head.”
Silence returned. Only the distant sounds of keys fumbling in shaky hands and drawers being roughly opened.
“So why?” The guard pressed.
“Does it matter?”
The sound of footsteps approaching them ended the tense silence.
“I think we’re about done here.” Calvin whistled, zipping up the backpack.
“Let her go then.” The guard snapped.
“All in due time old man. But first, I’m gonna need you to hand over that fancy gun to my partner.” He said, gesturing to his holster.
“Fine” The guard huffed, handing the gun to Jon. Carefully, Jon took it from him. “Satisfied?” He sneered.
“More than you can ever know. C’mon let’s go.” He motioned towards Jon. They backed out slowly, three guns trained at the two. With a grunt, the two fled to their car. Holstering the pistols, the two yanked the car doors. Jon put on his seatbelt. Calvin tossed him the backpack. Calvin turned on the car, and stepped on it. Safely away from the bank, the two took off the stuffy masks.
His left hand casually on the steering wheel, the other hand smoothing out his sweaty blonde hair.
“See for yourself.” Calvin drawled.
Hurriedly, Jon’s slick fingers grasped for the zipper. With a zip, Jon was greeted with a sign of relief.
“Enough to pay off that loan?” Calvin asked.
“And then some.” Jon sighed.
Calvin chuckled, “Told ya we were gonna do it. I’ve done this before.”
Jon stared out the window, watching the stores and restaurants fly by.
“What are you gonna do with your share?”
“Buy some stuff. I can finally buy that ring my girl-
A crash interrupted Calvin’s musings. Jon violently lurched forward, glass and plastic met his face. The sound of a thud and a scream filled his ears. With a groan, he detached his seatbelt and opened the car door only to flop onto the hard asphalt. The smell of smoke and blood permeated his nose. Looking to the left, he saw streaks of blood across the black asphalt. Slowly, Jon crawled to the curb. He was faintly aware of the pain the shards of glass in his body were causing him. Arriving at his destination, he turned himself around, his head resting against the sidewalk. The sun beat down on him with all its power. The cloudless sky mocked him.A red hand went to his neck, caressing the cross that laid there.
Thoughts of his family rushed in his head. How could he bear them knowing he was a criminal? But then again, what else would they expect from the family fuck up. Nothing like his exceptional older brother.
A warming pistol lay a few feet from him. Sirens blared in the distance. Soon enough the cops will be here and he’d be on the way into the slammer. Unless…. But God wouldn’t accept that. That’s a one way ticket to hell. But then again, he would already be going there anyways. But not if he atoned for his sins. Jon contemplated as the sirens grew louder and louder. He glanced at Calvin’s body. Memories of their times together ran briefly in his head. He put his head back on the sidewalk in silence, remembering him. Deciding what he deserved, Jon waited.

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Nitta Pann’s fingers are faster than The Flash. They can fly across the keyboard when he prepares his IMDB page. When he isn’t daydreaming about becoming famous, he can be seen sulking at the local theater.