Money on my Mind- Final

We pulled into the Publix parking lot as I was screwing the silencer on the gun. We were in a Yukon XL, deep as hell, with me in the passenger seat, my nigga Rod driving, and six of our boys in the back. We were all strapped, tools on deck, best believe- courtesy of my cousin Jay who owned a gun shop. He gave us all the guns we needed, but we had to promise him enough money that he could live off of for months if he got fired for giving away free guns, which he probably would. He was too stupid to realize that he’d be going to jail as well…if we fucked up. He knew our plan, and he was down with it if all he had to do was supply us, and of course not say his name. We were about to be rich. We were parked in the back of the lot, facing a lane so we could escape when it was time to. They were supposed to drive up to the entrance of the supermarket so I could get in and we could roll out when I chirped them on our Nextel phones after doing my duty.
“They here, B!” one of my boys in the back pointed to the right. The armored truck was pulling into the parking lot, driving slow as usual. It parked in front of the store. I looked at the time.
12:12.
On time as usual.
“You ready?” Rod asked. I exhaled hard. I had been holding my breath without realizing it.
I tucked the Glock nine under my belt and slipped my Publix apron over it, jumped out, and ran to the store. You could see the outline of the bullet-proof vest under my Publix uniform, but I figured nobody would pay attention.
I had a short time to do what I had to do.
I entered the store and turned left, right to the stairs that led upstairs to the break room of the store, as well as the safe room, and offices. I looked back and saw the money carrier walk in and go to the customer service desk, money in hand. The money carrier and a manager from the store always took the elevator up to the second floor to avoid being robbed. It was stupid, because the elevator opened up right next to the entrance of the stairwell. And there were no cameras upstairs, except for the safe room. This was a stupid idea to me. I ran up the stairs and waited by the elevator entrance, my heart beating.
What am I doing? I thought to myself. What am I going to do when the elevator opens? I can’t just ask for the money. How am I going to get it?
I’m going to have to shoot them.
I’m going to have to kill them!
My heart started to beat faster.
I heard the elevator whir as it smoothly and slowly worked its way upstairs.
I’m about to murder somebody.
I can’t do this, I thought to myself.
Then I thought about how I was looked down on everyday because I wore the same clothes every two days. I thought about how people laughed at my shoes because a toe was sticking out, and they squeaked as I walked. I thought about how I saw beautiful girls, and they wouldn’t even give me the time of day. I thought about the disrespect. I thought about how my mom gave up eating for days, just so her kids could eat. I thought about how nobody would hire me because I had no decent clothes to wear to the interview. I thought about how Publix hired me to be a janitor when I was capable of cashiering. My thoughts were interrupted as the elevator opened and the money carrier and manager walked out of the elevator.
“Hey, Matthew!” my manager smiled at me as they walked by. “Go on downstairs! Isn’t your break over?”
I smiled and entered the elevator, as they exited, the word ‘coward’ passing through my mind over and over.

The elevator opened, snapping me out of my short dream; my wish for reality. It was time to get down. I needed the money more than anybody in this bitch. I saw my targets.
My gun was already in hand, so I shot the money carrier once in the shoulder. There was no sound. He dropped the money, and screamed, reaching for his gun. The next bullet blew off his face. His body slumped to the ground. My manager had a look of fear on his face, so I shot it off as he tried to sneak by to run. He fell, face first, blood splattering everywhere. Blood was on my apron and shirt. I struggled to take them off.
My mind started to think, and that was a bad thing. I couldn’t think of what I was doing because it was wrong, and it was done. I had to keep moving. There was a press for time.
I was panicky. I grabbed the bag of money, entered the elevator, and pressed the buttons for the doors to close. The door closed, and I pulled out the stacks, filling my pockets, socks, and pants until there was nothing left. I was rich. All I saw were hundreds. Hundreds of them.
Since the job was done silently, I had some time to escape. I chirped Rod.
“Y-yo, man.” I was stuttering from the nervousness. “I did the job.”
He chirped back.
“How much you get?”
Chirp.
“Don’t worry about it, man. Just be out there when I come out. We have to go.”
All of a sudden I heard a scream from behind the closed elevator doors. It was time to go.
“Please, yo! We gotta go!” I yelled into my borrowed Nextel.
Chirp.
“Fuck that, nigga. We hungry. We formed a new plan. Hurry yo ass outside.”
I had no time to argue, so I pressed ‘down’.
The elevator went down slowly.

As the doors opened, it was calm, like a regular supermarket. Nobody in the store knew. But I knew this would all change within seconds. I had to get out of there.
As I neared the door, I heard a loud screech, like tires scraping the cement, then a CRASH!
I ran outside and gasped at the sight.
The armored car was on its side, and the Yukon was totaled.
My boys jumped out, guns out, ready to shoot.
They ran the Yukon into the armored truck, turning it on its side.
They were attempting to rob the truck!
“Why are you being greedy? We have enough!” I wanted to yell out, but I was choked up. I couldn’t get the words out.
The two men in the armored truck were rattled. They looked scared as they struggled to get out of the truck. In the meanwhile, the boys were kicking the back door in trying to get the money out of the back. Two of them were posted, ready to shoot. A man climbed out of the truck onto the side of it, and pointed his gun at Rod, who was standing there, waiting to shoot.
He shot.
He missed.
I snapped out of my frozen state.
It was time to go to war.
I pointed my gun at his head as he shot Rod. Rod fell over, the bullet penetrating his jersey, hopefully being stopped by the bullet proof vest. I shot the man in his head. He fell over, his gun falling to the ground and busting off once.
The other man poked his top body out of the truck shooting everywhere, and bullets met him and threw him back down as Jerry pointed the MAC-10 at him, trigger finger tight. It looked like the war was done, but we still didn’t have the money.
Customers were running around, screaming- ducking behind cars. I was surprised the cops weren’t here yet. The boys kept kicking the door, and then all of a sudden the door burst open, pushing the boys back, a lot of them losing their balance. Semi-automatic weapon fire sounded, and I saw the blood splatter on the cement.
I had to get out of there.
If I stayed a minute longer I knew I would most likely die, and people would be dead for no reason. I had the money. Why was I still here?
Loyalty.
Loyalty and Love make people do the most stupid things.
I saw Rod running towards the parking lot entrance towards the street as the rest of the boys shot at the man with the AK. The last guard standing was ripping the clothes off of my niggas with no mercy as he shot.
It was time for me to go.
I turned and ran behind Rod.
Yelling and cursing filled the air.
Shots rang behind us.
“Rod!” I called. He kept running without looking back. As he ran into the street, a Kompressor Benz screeched to a stop on his side. Rod ran to the side of the car and broke the window with the butt of his gun. The man inside raised his arms. What a dumbass. Wouldn’t it be smarter to pull off?
“Get the fuck out the car, B!” Rod screamed.
“Okay, just don’t shoot! Please!” The man got out of the car and Rod jumped in. I ran to the other side.
“Get in!” He screamed.
I pulled the door handle and it wouldn’t budge.
“Get in before I leave yo ass, nigga!”
“You locked the door, man!” I screamed.
I heard sirens. He unlocked the door, and I jumped in as he pulled off.
“What the fuck we gonna do, kid?” Rod asked me. “What the fuck we gonna do?”
We left the sirens behind as we raced to the highway.