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The Bag of Money

by Marlon Bradley 2 years ago in fiction
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The Money Was Just Sitting There.

The money was just sitting there. I couldn’t stop staring at it. In the midst of all the chaos going on around me, I found myself solely focused on it. I peeked out from my hiding spot to see if the coast was clear. Bullets were wildly flying through the air like hungry mosquitoes. I ducked down and gathered my nerve. Then I made a mad dash for the bag. Once I had it in my hands, I hugged it tightly to my chest and started looking for an exit. Right beside me, laid the freshly slain body of one of Gustav’s henchmen in a growing pool of his own bright red blood. His gun was just a few feet away from him. I started to grab it, but hesitated. What am I doing? I’m not a killer, I’m an accountant!

Bullets continued to whiz through the air around me. I crawled over a few more recently deceased and dove out of the warehouse’s emergency exit. I looked around to see if anyone noticed me. I was in the clear. I scrambled to my feet and searched for transportation. I didn’t drive to this massacre and I didn’t want to go back in and try to find keys to any of the cars outside. I fished my iPhone out of my pocket and opened the Uber app. Before I requested the ride, I stopped. I decided it would be smarter to put some distance between myself and my current surroundings. Plus, I figured it would be too easy for someone to track my movements through Uber.

I scurried away from the warehouse, diving and hiding behind shipping containers in case I was being followed. Eventually, I made my way to the security gate for the docks. I took a moment to compose myself. Then I slung the duffel bag strap across my body and calmly walked past the security guard. He looked in my direction, so I smiled and nodded. He returned the gesture and went back to his magazine. I stopped right outside the gate and fished out my wallet. I had about $35 dollars in cash on me, so I hailed a taxi.

I had the cab drop me off a few blocks from my condo, just as a precaution. As I walked home, I carefully scanned the faces around me. As I approached my building, Stanley, the doorman, greeted me. I shot him an uneasy smile as I darted into the lobby and headed to the service elevator in the back of the building. Once I was in my apartment, I stashed the duffle bag in the coat closet. Then, doing my best price officer impression, I checked every room to make sure I was alone. When I got to my bedroom, I flopped down on the bed. I had no idea what to do next. Surely by now, Gustav noticed that not only I, but the money was missing. I was certain one of his goons would be knocking on my door any moment. As I awaited my perceived impending doom, I couldn’t hep regret not grabbing a gun before I left the warehouse. Although I had never held, let alone shot a gun in my entire life, I was quite sure it was probably better to have one and not need it than need one one and not have it. I sat there on the foot of my bed for hours, waiting for someone to come to the door.

As the sun began to set over the city’s skyline, I came to grips with the fact that no one was coming. I had gotten away with it! I hopped up on the bed and did a quick celebratory dance. But as unbridled glee washed over me, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of curiosity. There was no way a man like Gustav would just let that kind of money vanish. So why had no one come looking for it? For me? I hopped down off of my bed and darted into my closet to change into something less conspicuous. While I pulled on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, I decided to go back to the warehouse to investigate. I grabbed the keys to my Audi A4 off my dresser and headed out the door.

As I drove towards the warehouse, my mind began to race. The closer I got, the wilder my imagination became. But the time I arrived, I was having a full-blown panic attack thinking of what Gustav would do to me when he found out I took the money. But the scene that awaited me when I pulled up to the gate was beyond belief. The entire area was swarming with police officers and emergency medical personnel. I parked my car and got out, trying my best to regain my composure. I approached the guard and pretended to be just another curious passerby.

“What happened?” My voice cracked as I tried my best to come across as just another nosey New Yorker.

“Couple of gangsters got into a shootout in one of the warehouses.” He didn’t even look in my direction.

“That’s crazy. Anybody alive?”

“Nah. Cops say it looks like they all clipped one another.” That’s when he turned to look at me.

“Hey! Weren’t you here earlier?”

The fact that he recognized me felt like a punch to the gut. I took a microsecond to deal with the shock and recompose myself, then softly shook my head.

“Nah, I just got one of those faces. Ya know?”

The guard shrugged it off and sat back down on his stool. While I walked back to my car, I let out a small sigh of relief as it dawned on me that I was now a very rich man.


About the author

Marlon Bradley

I'm just trying to tell the stories I want to hear. I consider myself to be a true lover of the English language, and I'm here to put that love on full display for the world.

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