Mike sat in his car, watching the bank through the rear view mirror. He's staked it out and around 2:00 P.M. was when the bank's traffic was slowest. There was only one car in the parking lot now.
On the passenger seat were the two things he brought for this job: the mask and the gun. The gun was an old revolver, snub-nosed, that he'd inherited from his father. He didn't know if it would even fire; the bullets in it were at least a generation old.
"I guess it's time," he said to himself. He didn't turn off the car but stepped out into the summer heat with the gun and the mask. This wasn't what he wanted to do. But with the economy still in the toilet, job prospects scant, he had to feed his family. He pulled the hot mask over his head and strode toward the entrance to the bank. That's when he heard the screams. They were coming from an alley between two tall buildings to his right.
"No, no, no!" a woman screamed.
Mike turned, hesitated, than ran for the alley. He saw two big men menacingly approaching a petite young woman. Already her pantyhose were ripped and there was dirt on her skirt, indicating to Mike the men had already knocked her down once.
"Stop!" Mike yelled, pointing the revolver at the men.
The men turned and looked at him with questioning eyes. He realized he was still wearing the mask.
"Leave her alone," Mike growled, trying to sound threatening.
The men exchanged a glance, then turn and ran out the alley, past the woman.
The woman gawked at Mike. "Th-th-thank you," she said in a shuddering voice. "You saved me. I don't know who you are but you're a good person."
Mike looked at her. He smiled. She smiled back.
"You're welcome," was all he said.
He turned, walked back to his car, took off the mask, and drove away. He'd start looking for a job again tomorrow.
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