Heat Wave

The Driver
Cody Reyner

I woke up in my recliner with the empty bottle of Jack Daniels still in my hand. As I stood up, I knocked over a growing stack of pizza boxes and Chinese food containers. When the clock on the wall showed me that I was 15 minutes late, I sprinted out the door.

I hate where I live. It was the kind of neighborhood where somebody smiles at you when you leave in the morning and steals your TV while you’re gone. The absolute scum of the earth decided to take up residence in my neighborhood.

I pulled in to a dirty alley. The heat combined with the garbage to make a smell that almost made me throw up in my car. Why they wanted to meet here, I don’t know, but I just did as I was told. Two men came out and got into my car without saying a word. With a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth, Lou got in the front and immediately slid the seat back. He was a big guy that liked to throw his weight around whenever he could. The other guy was quiet and we called him Shorty. He was very touchy when it came to his height. The guys told stories about what he did to people who made fun of him.

“You guys mind if I put some music on?” I said as I turned on the radio. It was a sad attempt to break the awkward silence that was building in the car.

“I hate the radio. Turn that shit off,” Lou demanded. “Just drive.” I did as I was told. Lou liked to give orders almost as much as he liked enforcing them. I lit up the first of my last three cigarettes as the lack of sleep became noticeable.

I pulled up to the bank around 9:15. They chose this day because there was no parking on the bank side of the street, so we could pull up, get in, grab the money, and get out before the black and whites showed up. Simple. I lit up another cigarette as I sat in the car, and I heard them go to work, “Nobody move!” was all I could hear from the car before the bank door closed. Thinking about what was happening inside made me nervous, so I sat quietly just focusing on the things I could do with 75,000 dollars. Maybe I would buy a nice restaurant, or startup a—

The police car stopped my imagination. Maybe they would just drive by. I watched as the tires slowly rolled down the intersection behind me, and I could tell they were considering coming down here. I was left alone in the car with only my doubts eating my confidence. I was unarmed and illegally parked in front of a bank in 110 degree weather with my car running. I had to get out of here, but if I left they would hunt me down and kill me. How did I know that they wouldn’t just kill me if we did get away? Was I worth $75,000 to them? I started to shake, so to calm myself down I attempted to light my last cigarette. My hands were shaking too much to light it, and I dropped it.

I was reaching down when I heard it. My stomach jumped into my chest. The shot came from inside the bank. I knew that we were screwed, and I wasn’t going to stick around. They never liked me anyway. I took off down the street when another cop car pulled right out front of me. I turned and saw a cop standing in between me and my escape. I went through this kind of thing in my head several times. Even better, he was a cop. My mind instantly jumped to the times I spent in prison: the bad food, the beatings, and never knowing if someone had decided today, you were going to die. Him or me, one of us was not walking away. I hit the gas and watched the speedometer climb. He just stood there frozen. Then I heard another gun go off.

Boiling Point
Katie Davis

“Deposit my check, wash the car, schedule a hair appointment, pick up flour, milk, and tomatoes, and make dinner.” I reviewed my plans for the day as I maneuvered my car around the busy streets of Los Angeles.

“Hello out there. It’s a sweltering 110 degrees in the shade, so don’t stay in the sun too long. Now, this is Voodoo Bob and I’m playing the hits every morning for the working stiffs.” The radio chattered. I parked my car and walked the block to the bank in the blistering heat. When I entered the lobby of the bank I felt the rush of cool air. I looked up and saw that there were long lines at all of the tellers. “I’m never going to make it to work on time.”

I stepped into line behind a balding man in his late fifties and waited for my turn. I was looking down at my watch when I heard someone yell, “Nobody move!” I froze. When I looked up I saw two men in ski masks, both holding guns.

The men in the masks were throwing the bags to the tellers. The men were tall and clad in all black.

“Okay, everybody down! On the ground!” one of the men yelled.

I moved with the rest of the customers and lay down on the cold, marble floor. I began to whisper, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

I looked toward the counter and saw one of the bank tellers slowly reach her hand underneath the counter to press the silent alarm. When I looked back toward the men, one of them was staring straight at me. As I looked into his deep green eyes I saw how callous and cruel he really was. He glanced back to where I had been looking and saw the woman’s hand move underneath the counter.

“I said freeze!” he screamed, “everyone away from the counter. Wouldn’t want your fingers to get jumpy and press a button or something.”

The bank tellers all filed out from behind the partition and joined the terrified customers on the floor. I couldn’t tell whether the woman had gotten a chance to press the button or not. We could be on our own.

“Let’s get out of here before someone notices,” one man said.

“We’re staying until those damn bags are full!” the other man argued, “Just keep watch at the window, Princess. I’ll get the cash.” He turned back toward the counter and aimed his gun at the frightened teller filling the bags.

“Shit! There’s a cop car outside,” the man said from the window. The other man joined him at the window; I closed my eyes. I could hear the whispers and muffled tears of other people around me.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” I whispered.

The men were standing near the window and were watching the cop car as it pulled up outside. I watched as the men argued about their next move.

“Do you think that they’ve made it to the back yet? We should escape out there.”

“No, idiot. We should take a hostage. They won’t shoot us if we have a hostage.” They continued to argue about their plan, ignoring the crowd of people on the floor behind them.

“This is my chance to get out of here,” I thought as I slowly inched my body toward the door. I heard the hush of the people around me as they watched me make my way to the door. When I was only inches from escape the men turned around.

“I said freeze!” he screamed. My world went into slow motion. The man reached into his pocket and grabbed his gun. He was screaming at me, but I couldn’t hear anything over the roaring inside my head. I saw him pull the trigger and heard screams as the roar from the shot echoed in the immense room.

“Shit! What the hell did you do that for?” one man said.

“Necessary sacrifice. And hey, we told her not to move,” he snickered.

“I’m dead. That bastard shot me and I’m dead.” I thought to myself. I opened my eyes and saw a spinning ceiling fan. As I looked around I saw a room full of police and the two men were cuffed and laying face down on the floor. Then the paramedics wheeled my stretcher out into the scorching heat.

Rookie Mistake
Ned Kelly

“The time is 8:58, and you’re listening KKRK, with Billy Bear’s Super Seventies Morning show. It’s gonna be another scorcher today, with a projected high of 120. It’s now 110 in the shade. Here’s a little Clapton to cool you down and mellow you out.”

I shot the sheriff,

I read someplace that, like 70% of riots occur like that. Hot days. Anytime it gets that hot so soon, there is a significantly higher chance of lawlessness. And that’s why I was there. To Serve and Protect. We cruise the streets, and let them know we’re watching, and that we’re there to help.

But I did not shoot the deputy.

“Turn that off, and watch the streets.”

It was my first day on the streets and my partner was laughing at me. Hobbes was a good guy, but he was an old hand. He knew I was excited about it all. I was just beginning the job that I had dreamed of all my life. I was going to be the good guy, the hero.

The scanner crackled to life.

“Reported 211 in progress at 1st National on the corner of Chester and 122nd. All units...”

That was only two blocks from here. My blood began to pump double time and I felt a stupid kid grin spread across my face.

Hobbes calmly flipped on the lights and did an illegal u-turn. Still calm as a cucumber he called in our position, and I checked my gun. Hobbes eyed me nervously and looked back to the road.

“Now, we’re gonna wait here for backup. We aren’t heroes. We—“ I didn’t catch the rest, because I was out of the car and halfway up the stairs before he was in park. My gun was un-holstered, safety off. The street was clear, and the sun was shining.

“Dammit, Keefe, this isn’t a fucking game, and you aren’t Bruce Fucking Willis. I—“

He stopped and looked over my shoulder. A brown Chevy was illegally parked just down the street. The engine was running. His face was hidden in hood. Hobbes released the latch on his holster.

“Keefe,” he started slowly, licking his lips, “We need to get back to the car.”

There was a gunshot; something was happening inside. I crouched down but couldn’t see anything inside. Then I turned my head and saw the Chevy’s lights flash. The driver shifted gears.

Time dragged and died.

I felt like I was watching a movie or a sports replay. My own voice seemed high and strained. I screamed at the car, “Freeze, Stop”. I was so frightened, I drew my gun, straightened my arm and supported with my left. Sweat dripped into my eyes as the sun beat down on us all. The car lurched into gear, tires squealing. The driver wore a ski mask and bent over the wheel as if he was running from hell. He saw me. Our eyes locked, and I saw his fear. The fear in his deep brown eyes. The panic when he saw my gun.

Hobbes was just crossing back to the car when the perp started off. He was right in the driver’s path. Mesmerized by the one-ton machine hurtling towards him.

I was about to watch my partner die two hours into my first day on the job. I grit my teeth and bit my tongue. As I felt the blood begin to flow, I mumbled a prayer and I fired. One bullet. I fired one bullet to save my partner’s life.

The windshield spider webbed as the bullet passed through, and the car jerked hard left, slamming into a pole. Three more squad cars and a SWAT van pull up as I stood in a trance. I walked slowly over to our car and climbed into the front seat. Hobbes stared at me in disbelief and, gun still drawn, walked over to the steaming wreck.

I sat there, belted into the car, with my arms clutching the dash. The police radio mumbled a slow hypnotic mantra, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to fall out of the squad car.

Hobbes came back to talk to me, but I already knew what he was going to say.

I just killed a man.

I looked up towards the sky and cried.

	Heat Wave Cody Reyner, Katie Davis, Ned Kelly
	As Fate Would Have It Split Proposal Heat Wave The Price of... Begging for Quarters Return to Intro Page	The Driver Cody Reyner I woke up in my recliner with the empty bottle of Jack Daniels still in my hand. As I stood up, I knocked over a growing stack of pizza boxes and Chinese food containers. When the clock on the wall showed me that I was 15 minutes late, I sprinted out the door. I hate where I live. It was the kind of neighborhood where somebody smiles at you when you leave in the morning and steals your TV while you’re gone. The absolute scum of the earth decided to take up residence in my neighborhood. I pulled in to a dirty alley. The heat combined with the garbage to make a smell that almost made me throw up in my car. Why they wanted to meet here, I don’t know, but I just did as I was told. Two men came out and got into my car without saying a word. With a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth, Lou got in the front and immediately slid the seat back. He was a big guy that liked to throw his weight around whenever he could. The other guy was quiet and we called him Shorty. He was very touchy when it came to his height. The guys told stories about what he did to people who made fun of him. “You guys mind if I put some music on?” I said as I turned on the radio. It was a sad attempt to break the awkward silence that was building in the car. “Hello out there. It’s a sweltering 110 degrees in the shade, so don’t stay in the sun too long. Now, this is Voodoo Bob and I’m playing the hits every morning for the working stiffs.” The radio shouted through a thick wall of static. “I hate the radio. Turn that shit off,” Lou demanded. “Just drive.” I did as I was told. Lou liked to give orders almost as much as he liked enforcing them. I lit up the first of my last three cigarettes as the lack of sleep became noticeable. I pulled up to the bank around 9:15. They chose this day because there was no parking on the bank side of the street, so we could pull up, get in, grab the money, and get out before the black and whites showed up. Simple. I lit up another cigarette as I sat in the car, and I heard them go to work, “Nobody move!” was all I could hear from the car before the bank door closed. Thinking about what was happening inside made me nervous, so I sat quietly just focusing on the things I could do with 75,000 dollars. Maybe I would buy a nice restaurant, or startup a— The police car stopped my imagination. Maybe they would just drive by. I watched as the tires slowly rolled down the intersection behind me, and I could tell they were considering coming down here. I was left alone in the car with only my doubts eating my confidence. I was unarmed and illegally parked in front of a bank in 110 degree weather with my car running. I had to get out of here, but if I left they would hunt me down and kill me. How did I know that they wouldn’t just kill me if we did get away? Was I worth $75,000 to them? I started to shake, so to calm myself down I attempted to light my last cigarette. My hands were shaking too much to light it, and I dropped it. I was reaching down when I heard it. My stomach jumped into my chest. The shot came from inside the bank. I knew that we were screwed, and I wasn’t going to stick around. They never liked me anyway. I took off down the street when another cop car pulled right out front of me. I turned and saw a cop standing in between me and my escape. I went through this kind of thing in my head several times. Even better, he was a cop. My mind instantly jumped to the times I spent in prison: the bad food, the beatings, and never knowing if someone had decided today, you were going to die. Him or me, one of us was not walking away. I hit the gas and watched the speedometer climb. He just stood there frozen. Then I heard another gun go off. Boiling Point Katie Davis “Deposit my check, wash the car, schedule a hair appointment, pick up flour, milk, and tomatoes, and make dinner.” I reviewed my plans for the day as I maneuvered my car around the busy streets of Los Angeles. “Hello out there. It’s a sweltering 110 degrees in the shade, so don’t stay in the sun too long. Now, this is Voodoo Bob and I’m playing the hits every morning for the working stiffs.” The radio chattered. I parked my car and walked the block to the bank in the blistering heat. When I entered the lobby of the bank I felt the rush of cool air. I looked up and saw that there were long lines at all of the tellers. “I’m never going to make it to work on time.” I stepped into line behind a balding man in his late fifties and waited for my turn. I was looking down at my watch when I heard someone yell, “Nobody move!” I froze. When I looked up I saw two men in ski masks, both holding guns. The men in the masks were throwing the bags to the tellers. The men were tall and clad in all black. “Okay, everybody down! On the ground!” one of the men yelled. I moved with the rest of the customers and lay down on the cold, marble floor. I began to whisper, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” I looked toward the counter and saw one of the bank tellers slowly reach her hand underneath the counter to press the silent alarm. When I looked back toward the men, one of them was staring straight at me. As I looked into his deep green eyes I saw how callous and cruel he really was. He glanced back to where I had been looking and saw the woman’s hand move underneath the counter. “I said freeze!” he screamed, “everyone away from the counter. Wouldn’t want your fingers to get jumpy and press a button or something.” The bank tellers all filed out from behind the partition and joined the terrified customers on the floor. I couldn’t tell whether the woman had gotten a chance to press the button or not. We could be on our own. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices,” one man said. “We’re staying until those damn bags are full!” the other man argued, “Just keep watch at the window, Princess. I’ll get the cash.” He turned back toward the counter and aimed his gun at the frightened teller filling the bags. “Shit! There’s a cop car outside,” the man said from the window. The other man joined him at the window; I closed my eyes. I could hear the whispers and muffled tears of other people around me. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” I whispered. The men were standing near the window and were watching the cop car as it pulled up outside. I watched as the men argued about their next move. “Do you think that they’ve made it to the back yet? We should escape out there.” “No, idiot. We should take a hostage. They won’t shoot us if we have a hostage.” They continued to argue about their plan, ignoring the crowd of people on the floor behind them. “This is my chance to get out of here,” I thought as I slowly inched my body toward the door. I heard the hush of the people around me as they watched me make my way to the door. When I was only inches from escape the men turned around. “I said freeze!” he screamed. My world went into slow motion. The man reached into his pocket and grabbed his gun. He was screaming at me, but I couldn’t hear anything over the roaring inside my head. I saw him pull the trigger and heard screams as the roar from the shot echoed in the immense room. “Shit! What the hell did you do that for?” one man said. “Necessary sacrifice. And hey, we told her not to move,” he snickered. “I’m dead. That bastard shot me and I’m dead.” I thought to myself. I opened my eyes and saw a spinning ceiling fan. As I looked around I saw a room full of police and the two men were cuffed and laying face down on the floor. Then the paramedics wheeled my stretcher out into the scorching heat. Rookie Mistake Ned Kelly “The time is 8:58, and you’re listening KKRK, with Billy Bear’s Super Seventies Morning show. It’s gonna be another scorcher today, with a projected high of 120. It’s now 110 in the shade. Here’s a little Clapton to cool you down and mellow you out.” I shot the sheriff, I read someplace that, like 70% of riots occur like that. Hot days. Anytime it gets that hot so soon, there is a significantly higher chance of lawlessness. And that’s why I was there. To Serve and Protect. We cruise the streets, and let them know we’re watching, and that we’re there to help. But I did not shoot the deputy. “Turn that off, and watch the streets.” It was my first day on the streets and my partner was laughing at me. Hobbes was a good guy, but he was an old hand. He knew I was excited about it all. I was just beginning the job that I had dreamed of all my life. I was going to be the good guy, the hero. The scanner crackled to life. “Reported 211 in progress at 1st National on the corner of Chester and 122nd. All units...” That was only two blocks from here. My blood began to pump double time and I felt a stupid kid grin spread across my face. Hobbes calmly flipped on the lights and did an illegal u-turn. Still calm as a cucumber he called in our position, and I checked my gun. Hobbes eyed me nervously and looked back to the road. “Now, we’re gonna wait here for backup. We aren’t heroes. We—“ I didn’t catch the rest, because I was out of the car and halfway up the stairs before he was in park. My gun was un-holstered, safety off. The street was clear, and the sun was shining. “Dammit, Keefe, this isn’t a fucking game, and you aren’t Bruce Fucking Willis. I—“ He stopped and looked over my shoulder. A brown Chevy was illegally parked just down the street. The engine was running. His face was hidden in hood. Hobbes released the latch on his holster. “Keefe,” he started slowly, licking his lips, “We need to get back to the car.” There was a gunshot; something was happening inside. I crouched down but couldn’t see anything inside. Then I turned my head and saw the Chevy’s lights flash. The driver shifted gears. Time dragged and died. I felt like I was watching a movie or a sports replay. My own voice seemed high and strained. I screamed at the car, “Freeze, Stop”. I was so frightened, I drew my gun, straightened my arm and supported with my left. Sweat dripped into my eyes as the sun beat down on us all. The car lurched into gear, tires squealing. The driver wore a ski mask and bent over the wheel as if he was running from hell. He saw me. Our eyes locked, and I saw his fear. The fear in his deep brown eyes. The panic when he saw my gun. Hobbes was just crossing back to the car when the perp started off. He was right in the driver’s path. Mesmerized by the one-ton machine hurtling towards him. I was about to watch my partner die two hours into my first day on the job. I grit my teeth and bit my tongue. As I felt the blood begin to flow, I mumbled a prayer and I fired. One bullet. I fired one bullet to save my partner’s life. The windshield spider webbed as the bullet passed through, and the car jerked hard left, slamming into a pole. Three more squad cars and a SWAT van pull up as I stood in a trance. I walked slowly over to our car and climbed into the front seat. Hobbes stared at me in disbelief and, gun still drawn, walked over to the steaming wreck. I sat there, belted into the car, with my arms clutching the dash. The police radio mumbled a slow hypnotic mantra, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to fall out of the squad car. Hobbes came back to talk to me, but I already knew what he was going to say. I just killed a man. I looked up towards the sky and cried. Comments for the Authors?