Prologue

Prologue of my second draft of End of Days :) Reviews would be much appreciated!

Prologue

As the brown muscle car screeched to a stop in front of the local bank, I slipped on the ski mask and whispered through gritted teeth, “Remember fellas. This is our last job. After this, we’re done. For good,” I ran my fingers through my beard and cracked my knuckles as I pulled on black combat gloves.

           “Boss, here’s your weapon,” said one of my crew, who handed me a large 12 gauge shotgun. I loaded three shells into the chamber and made sure the safety was off, resting my eyes on the scratched off serial number. This was going to go off without a hitch. I looked to my left and I could see Jo shaking from fear.

            “Calm down, Jo. We’ve done this before. This ain’t no different.” I grunted to him, who was the getaway driver on jobs like these. He was trustworthy and one hell of a driver and I would’ve trusted him with my life. Sure, he was a wuss at times, but he was the most calculated man I’d ever met. As everybody loaded up their weapons and dressed themselves accordingly, I scowled when I realized the window was closing, and so was the bank. “Hurry up, people!” I yelled while bolting out of the car and ramming the door open with my shoulder. I cocked back the shotgun once more and fired a shot into the ceiling.

 The bank teller screamed.

           “Get on the ground or else!” yelled John as he bolted in, barrel up. All the patrons screamed when they realized there were three of us, and we were armed to the teeth. We had rehearsed this a thousand times. While Jo and John stayed behind to watch the tellers and customers, I ran up to the counter and vaulted over it in one swift movement, feeling a tearing in my calf.

           “Argh, d****t…” I whispered so no one could hear me. My feet hit the ground with a tinge of pain in my heel which worsened when I rounded the corner to the stairs, leading to the deposit boxes. The pain turned into a burning sensation and a yelp with each step. I turned another corner, unzipped my duffel bag, pulled a set of homemade explosive out of it, and planted it on the hinges of the metal gate. Now to get back...

           “DOWN ON THE GROUND OR I SHOOT!” cried a police officer coming down the stairs behind me with a Glock in his hands. He pulled up his gun to fire but I was faster, slamming my shotgun right into his jaw, knocking him unconscious, knocking two of his teeth out. I limped up to the safe and ensured the charges were secure to the large, circular piece of steel. My eyes darted back and forth to the door and the stairs when I pulled out the disposable phone, detonating the set explosives, and they blew the door off its hinges and it fell to the floor with a loud clang. I smirked and ran into the small room, withdrawing four large piles of cash from it.

            “Hurry!” yelled Jo, who started up the car in a flash. I threw the two bags of cash into the back and watched the chaos inside the building unfold as we pulled away from the bank. People were shaking in terror, assuming they would be shot if they moved, which wasn’t the case. I jabbed my elbow into the glass window of the car and leaned over the frame. At least four police cruisers were chasing us down, closing the gap between our bumpers and it was getting thinner by the second.

           I reached over and yanked the pistol out of Jo’s waistband. He jerked from my movement and took a sharp left, almost throwing me out the window. I leaned over the window frame once more and sprayed bullets all over the cruisers, every bullet slamming into the hood of the cars. I always was a terrible shot. “John! Lay down some fire!” I screamed to my other crew member. He nodded and leaned out another window, firing at the authorities. As soon as he emptied his first clip into the cars, one of the cruisers pulled to the right of us and a flash of light and a loud screech, and three lifeless body fell out of the car and rolled into the street, resting to a stop in the bike lane. Bloody and mangled. A scream of triumph from John and next thing I knew, his blood was all over me. Shot. Dead. Gone. Just like that.

           Jo screamed in terror. He had never seen such a thing. He slammed his foot on the accelerator even harder now. The blood was everywhere and it wasn’t making getting away any easier. I leaned out of the window once more, and a narrow strip of light whizzed by my head. The cruisers were getting harder to shake as they became more aggravated. Three more bullets flew by, and suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I felt the bullet go through my shoulder blade and shatter it. I became light headed extremely quickly and rolled out onto the pavement, scrapes, I could feel more of my bones snapping and my skin tearing off onto the pavement as I tumbled down the road.

         I couldn’t breath. I was choking on my own blood. I groaned while clutching the wound on the left side of my body. A cruiser  pulled away from the group and screeched to a halt in front of me immediately. The officers stepped out and quickly pulled the mask off of my sweaty, blood stained face. I said nothing. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, and laid my head down on the concrete. With a faint ringing in my ears, I felt a warmth wash over me as the world around me faded. The last thing I saw was Jo’s car pulling a hard right down a narrow street.



5 Months Later



            “I declare that Benjamin Jackson Palmer will be sentenced to nineteen years and six months of imprisonment on counts of resisting officers with violence and armed robbery with no possibility of parole. Court is adjourned.” recited the almost emotionless Judge from atop the high desk. My name rang out for what seemed like forever as I was led out of the room in a bright orange jumpsuit. I hated that name.

          It didn’t matter. I’d get more thrill in the slammer than out here anyways. The one thing that bothered me was I didn’t even have the slightest clue about what happened to Jo. The faint memories of us roughhousing in front of his dirty, beat up front yard made me smile with reminiscence yet it made me sad and angry at the same time. I immediately pushed the emotions to the back of my mind and forgot about it. Who cares? I’m here and that’s all that mattered. No...

The only thing that mattered now was surviving…

Reviews

[Stars and Whales]

Wow. This is very good writing. Your word choice is excellent, and it gives me a good hint as to where this going. Not a complete hint, but enough. Good to keep readers on their toes. Should be marked as "mature"...lol...i don't mind but a lot of f-bombs for young readers. But you gave good voice and your characters have nice personality! Keep writing, I will be reading more of your work when I can! Thanks for sharing!