Ria's Bank Job (Ria Miller and the Monsters) by Nigel Henry

Author:Nigel Henry [Henry, Nigel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2017-10-01T06:00:00+00:00

Six

Well, shit. That was unexpected.

The man keeps the handgun pointed at my chest as he clarifies himself. “That big shipment of cash that just came in, I want it all. Now.”

I freeze, unsure of my next move. He hasn’t started yelling, so no one’s noticed him yet. I’m absolutely sure that won’t last. I have to get that gun out of his hands before this whole thing goes sideways, but I can’t do that while it’s aimed directly at me. I’m fast, but I’m not faster than a bullet.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll get it to you. You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

“Do as I say and I won’t.”

I get an idea, remembering that I’ve still got my comms on. I can signal my parents. “All right,” I say. “Just, please don’t hurt me. My Mom and Dad would lose it if anything happened to me.”

“Ria? Oh my God.” Dad’s voice comes into my headset. At the same time, the gunman tilts his head, as if he’s hearing something strange.

“Who are you talking to?” He barks.

Crap crap crap, he heard the comm somehow. I’m blown.

He reaches over the kiosk toward me. I back away and he points the gun at me. I hold my hands up to my head.

BLAM!

The sound of the gunshot burns my ears, but it’s not followed by the kind of “holy fuck” pain that you’d expect. After a second, my brain starts to tell me that maybe I haven’t been shot, so I lower my hands and look up.

My Mom’s fighting the gunman, baton extended as everyone else screams and runs away. She must’ve attacked him while his attention was on me. She crashes her baton against his hand and the gun falls from his hand and clatters toward me. I kick it behind me and rise out of my seat.

That asshole just tried to kill me.

Okay, dick bag, let’s dance.

I grab the slingshot from my kiosk, load in a salt-ball and fire at his face. The ball hits him directly in the eyes and he screams as he stumbles backward. I grab my baton in time to see Dad knock the woman in the baseball cap backward. The other man rushes me, but I kick him on his ass.

The three of them land together and we advance, weapons out. Checkmate. Millers: one, bank robbers: zilch.

They try to rise, but I load in another salt shot and aim it at the now-unarmed gunman. “Just give me a reason,” I growl.

For a moment, we’re in a standoff, with no one daring to move. Then, bless his little furry heart, Cal the husky runs up to the gunman and starts whining. To my surprise, the gunman kicks the dog away.

“You idiot,” he screams, “You said they were unarmed!”

Cal lands against a kiosk with a loud yelp and I decide that this guy needs an attitude adjustment. I fire another salt shot, but he freaking flips out of the way and lands on his feet.

I’m momentarily dumbfounded. I was too close.

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