"Hands up!" "Hands where we can see em'," harsh voices echoed in the bank lobby. Shock forced my body into autopilot, and I spun around in an attempt to find the source of the shouts. Men waving black guns pivoted menacingly to view the whole room. They looked like little turrets.
I stood frozen as the armed burglars swarmed the place, moving quickly and orderly like black ants. There were at least 20 of the men, with more trickling in through the shatter windows of my local bank. I saw one of the bank tellers I had spoken with just moments ago shake in horror, while the men made a destructive path towards him. They're target was obvious.
I glanced around anxiously, checking that none of the man-turrets were watching me. I dropped to the floor, praying to be invisible. I army crawled stealthily towards a desk, planning to use it as cover. The scratchy carpet burned my elbows, and I knew I'd have rug burns later-if I survived this, that is.
I finally made it to the desk, then peeked timidly around the tan wood. Five of the man-turrets had surround the innocent bank teller, all angrily yelling at him in a language foreign to me. I couldn't tell where the rest of the men had gone, but the ruckus from the hallway and backrooms hint that at least some of them were there.
Some of the other clients and workers in the bank had taken cover as well, others remained frozen in place, standing idly with their hands over their heads. They kinda looked like trees.
Everyone was silent. It was as if the world had stopped for these criminals, and in a way, ours had.
Suddenly, one of the thugs standing beside the bank teller drew a gun to his temple. Panic muddled my brain. There was nothing I could do. I was utterly useless. Being useless is the one thing that gets to me. I hate feeling useless.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the bullet enter the mans skull. I waited for the piercing sound of gunfire.
It never came. The sound that snapped my eyes open made me feel like I was going to faint. "You got a friend in me... When the road looks rough ahead..." my phone sang out from my back pocket. I reached behind me, snatching the phone. I quickly declined the call, caller ID revealing it to be my best friend, Aubrey.
Looking up, a lock of my blond hair fell across my right eye. Through my left eye, I was able to see a very scary man gazing down at me.
His head was shaved bald, a dragon tattoo wrapped eerily around the right side. On the left, three black dots of ink formed a triangle. The mans light green eyes took some harshness away from his features, but not much. His attire was all black like the rest of the men.
He was flanked by two others who stood bleakly beside him. Only then did I realize how he towered over them, and they were tall too. This dude must be at least 6'6.
He stared at me, and I was to fearful to break eye contact. I wouldn't lose. His face held blank for a few seconds, then twisted into something mimicking familiarity and recognition.
"Code 310!" the large man in front of me announced. I could feel my face contort in confusion as he continued to watch me. Without any sound, the men diligently cleared the building.
In less than a minute, the only one left was the scary man in front of me. The whole time, he hadn't looked away from me once. He eerily watched, seeming to think I about to start running or something. Lol. Jokes on him. I don't fucking run anywhere, unless it's to the refrigerator.
He finally turned, addressing the innocents left hiding in the building. "Everyone the fuck out," his voice was thick with a sharp sounding accent. His English was awful aswell. A line of people quickly and chaotically made their way out the large bank doors.
Swiveling around, he crouched down in front of me. "Ms, do you know a name Inek Synon?" his accent dripping on his lazy voice.
The name Inek Synon struck a cord in my heart. A ping of pain was all that remained of his memories in my mind. Confusion made my head spin. Why is this violent criminal asking me about Inek?
What did he do? Are they after him? I have to warn him. "I... I... How? Is he..." I mumbled, to confused to put sentences in order. I probably sounded like Yoda.
"That's what I thought Ms." The scary man slightly nodded, then began to walk away from me.
I shot to my feet. "Don't hurt him! I'll go to the police right now," I spoke confidently, surprising myself. He stops, but doesn't look back at me.
"Shea, I think it's best you come with me now." Certainty hung in his voice now, while mine disintegrated. How does he know my name, I never told him. Did I?
I knew it was a horrid idea to go with him, and my brain told me no. The trouble is, my legs told me yes, and before I knew it I had followed this stranger into his sleek black Tahoe.
I could die because of this, I knew that. But the truth is, that one name was enough to make me risk it all just to find him-
Inek Synon.
YOU ARE READING
His List
Romance"Tell me." He paced forward, then leaned dauntingly forward on his desk. "What do you think you're doing here? After all of these years, here you are." He observed me dangerously, like a rabbit in a cage. His dark eyes were voids, replacing the free...
