The Hotel at the End of Time

Chapter 1 - Vain attempts to rob a bank.

What worried Vain most about robbing a bank wasn't the danger, or the cops, or getting caught. No, it was that it might not work, and then she'd need to consider Roman's insane and unworkable plan to get normal jobs. But jobs, even temporary ones, meant staying in one place. Talking to other people. Trapping yourself. Pass, pass, and pass.

Was it her first bank robbery? No way to tell. She had no memory of anything before the Hotel, so possibly, she'd been an expert. Maybe that had been her past life; going from town to town, robbing banks, making her getaway while clutching dollar-sign inscribed sacks to her chest.

Probably not. More likely this was her first, and something cool to cross off her bucket list. Item number one on her bucket list was to create a bucket list. A problem for later.

Her original plan included dressing up like cowboys and talking in a western drawl because western bank robberies ruled, but Roman pointed out that while entertaining, it would draw more attention. She reluctantly agreed but insisted on wearing a cowboy hat, which made him laugh. Their lives didn't hold enough joy, and the risk was worth it to make him smile.

"It's nearly six." The enormous cowboy hat fell over her eyes and she pushed it back. "Bank-robbing time, y'all."

"I'm not sure an ATM counts as a bank," Roman said. "And stop talking in that horrible accent."

"See here, little lady. An ATM machine counts as a bank."

"I'm not a lady, and ATM stands for 'Automated Teller Machine', so you don't need to add the 'machine' at the end."

"After we rob this ATM machine," she said, emphasizing the last word, "we should have enough cash to keep us going for a while. Yeehaw."

Going where, though? She had no idea, although she'd never admit that to Roman. He counted on her to keep them moving and invent plans to keep them safe. Deal with today and make it to tomorrow. Life, since the Hotel, came in heartbeats.

From their vantage across the street, Vain scouted the ATM nestled into the building's brick exterior. Cars and pedestrians made it easy for them to hide in the open. Downtown Denver buzzed with crowds this time of night and no one paid attention to them, rad cowboy hat notwithstanding. Even if anyone looked, all they'd see is a mild-faced, brown-haired man and a girl with huge eyes and angular features wearing an absurd ten-gallon hat. Two people out for a stroll, staring intently at a bank, talking in cowboy lingo. Standard, everyday stuff.

Vain cracked her knuckles, impatient to get started. The best plans were like wrestling matches; not a detailed list of moves, but rather a series of big spots that led to a finish. Lock up, do a table spot, nail a suplex, done.

"A good plan is a lot like wrestling," she said to Roman so he'd have a chance to acknowledge her clever comparison.

"I've told you before," Roman said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "A good plan is exactly unlike wrestling. A table spot? Like when a wrestler gets thrown through a table? What's the analogous 'table spot' in this specific plan?"

"Shush." She waggled her finger at him. "Should be showtime soon. Y'all."

They had been scoping out that ATM for a few days. Every night at six o'clock, the bank guy came, opened the door, and refilled the money with stacks of bills from his giant money truck. That would be their moment to strike.

"If this were a movie, I'd say something like 'Roman, let's go over the plan one last time' and dump a bunch of exposition." She liked movies.

"Yeah, movies are great. Screenwriters are hacks. The guy is coming. Are you ready?"

"Yes." She pulled a sliver of energy from him. It filled her up; inflated her. He trembled, almost imperceptibly, but she noticed. No matter how he tried to hide his discomfort from her, she always saw. Screw the Hotel for making them like this.