Halfway Heroes

by Dustin Martin

  Chapter 30—Holdup

  When the driver had mentioned a gas station, Lydia had hoped that meant a town. Preferably a town that had a bus or a train terminal where they could also grab some food. Her stomach was whining nonstop, and she was sure she heard the boys’ stomachs growling as well.

  The truck stopped a few hours later and her hope of escape rose. They slipped past the driver when he climbed up to rearrange the crates. As soon as she hopped down from the truck, however, she saw only emptiness around the gas station. Perfect. Just perfect. In every direction, there was nothing but grassland. Not even a sign of houses on the horizon. Only the moon, the stars, and the neon light of the gas station flashing “Open 24/7.”

  What time is it? Lydia had lost all sense of time in the pitch-black darkness. The truck had been cold, but when they stepped outside, the air was absolutely freezing. Lydia retrieved a jacket from her backpack and shrugged into it, as did Aidan.

  Jando was left to rub his arms, his teeth chattering in his T-shirt and tight jeans. He stamped his feet, hopping up and down to warm himself up. “Got any spares?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Aidan said with a sneer, as a bone-chilling wind whipped across the grass.

  Lydia frowned. She was growing tired of their one-upmanship. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a thick sweater, and handed it to him. “Here, put this on,” she said. Jando slipped into it gratefully. The boys sat on a bench next to the gas station’s convenience store.

  “Do you think the driver will get suspicious about us?” asked Aidan.

  Lydia glanced over to where the driver was paying at the pump. She shook her head. “No, why would he? He doesn’t know we hitched a ride.” She grabbed some money from her backpack. “I’m going to go see where we are.” She opened the door and a little bell above the door rang, announcing her arrival. Ding-a-ling!

  After choosing a few bags of chips, candy bars, and soda, Lydia went to the counter. The cashier was half-asleep. There were no other customers except for the truck driver outside. Lydia tapped on the counter. “Hi. How can I help you?” the cashier asked, yawning loudly.

  “What time is it and what state is this?” Lydia asked as she was rung up.

  The girl stared at her but she answered the question. “Just after midnight and Illinois,” she said, taking Lydia’s money.

  Lydia felt her face grow warm with embarrassment. I must sound like an idiot.

  The girl pointed to a collection of state maps. “Three dollars each.” She pushed Lydia’s food toward her.

  Lydia picked up the map and unfolded it. “What’s the closest city?” She practically had to wake up the cashier again with her question.

  “Mattenson. It’s a few miles up that way,” the girl pointed off in circles. Then she was out like a light. Lydia left money for the map. Then she gathered up the food, her remaining change, and the map and headed back to the bench.

  An RV pulled up and parked at the gas station. A father and two children hopped out and walked inside.

  “Nice to see you two not fighting for a change,” Lydia said, handing Aidan a soda and Jando a bag of chips.

  “Oh, well, we can fix that,” Jando said, as Aidan popped the can and took a drink. With a quick movement, Jando tilted Aidan’s drink higher and tipped it into his face. When he let go, Aidan sputtered and coughed up the fizzy beverage onto the ground. He slapped Jando’s chips from his hands. “You see?”

  “Jerk,” Aidan muttered.

  “Look, don’t waste it,” Lydia said, sitting between them. “We can’t afford much and we have to get bus tickets, too.” She unfolded the map on her lap. “The cashier says we’re near Mattenson. So it’s either down there—or there,” she said, pointing at the only two-way street next to the gas station.

  “Hmm, you have any water?” Jando asked, spinning a soda bottle in his hand. “I kind of stopped drinking this stuff.”

  “No,” Lydia said. “Just drink it. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “But water is so much better for your complexion. Didn’t you know?”

  “I’ll buy you some lotion for your birthday, then,” Aidan said. “Just shut up and drink it.”

  “Jealous because the ladies love my nice, smooth skin better than your pasty rough one?” Jando said, grinning. He held out his hand. “Feel that. That comes from drinking a lot of water. You got to eat healthy, after all.”

  “Must not be good for your colon,” Aidan said, taking a sip of his soda. “Blocking it up and all.”

  “What do you mean? It clears your colon.”

  “Then explain how you’re so full of crap that it spews out your mouth daily.”

  “Oh, real funny,” Jando said. “How about I kick you up and down the street?”

  Lydia had stopped paying attention to their argument. She was peering around Aidan’s furious face at the door to the store. Two more cars had approached the gas station, one full of a group of guys all laughing, joking, and bumbling about as they headed into the store. The other car carried only two, wearing casual clothes and green ski masks. That pair entered the store as well, acting jittery and constantly glancing over their shoulders.

  “Hey, what is it?” Aidan asked her, finally noting her silence. He and Jando both traced her eyes to the door.

  Lydia didn’t answer him. The window above the bench allowed her to see the tops of everyone’s heads inside. The ski masks separated, one moving near the cashier, the other toward the group of guys crowding around the drinks. Then, quick as a flash, the ski mask near the back raised a gun and whacked the head of one of the guys. He disappeared from Lydia’s sight. The heads of the other guys ducked down. There was no sign of the man with two kids. The ski masks stayed still. Lydia heard shouting.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jando whispered, sliding off the bench.

  “For once, I agree with you.” Aidan hunched over next to Jando. “Lydia, come on.”

  As a young child, Lydia’s mother had often told her it was good to help others. It was a personal belief that Debra took to heart, no matter how busy, unwilling, or fearful she was. Lydia had interpreted “good” to mean “beneficial.” After all, if you helped a person, then that person was indebted to you. You now had a favor you could collect anytime in the future.

  However, as she had grown older, Lydia realized the actual meaning of her mother’s advice. She found that she shouldn’t be gaming the system, but playing normally, acting like a decent person would. After all, you could cheat at a game and win, sure, but where was the satisfaction? Where was that warm feeling of victory that only came hand in hand with fair, honest play? Through that, win or lose, you still had the satisfaction that you did your best, giving your full effort. And if you did manage to win the fair way, oh, how much sweeter was the victory! It was a delicious ending to an already enriching experience.

  She had often discovered that helping others was “good,” whether she received a reward, a favor, or nothing at all. It became ingrained in her mind until she believed it wholeheartedly as well. Not that Lydia always jumped to assist everyone she could, but she tried when it mattered.

  That may have been why she had jumped in front of that bus, breaking her arm for what she saw as an incompetent, obnoxious driver. One could say that other than keeping a clean conscience, she had at the very least won the approval of Arthur—not that she treasured that in any manner.

  Maybe that belief had played a part in the bus incident. Maybe it was playing a part now as Lydia peeked into a side window of the RV.

  Aidan grabbed her arm. “Lydia! Let’s go now!”

  But she didn’t heed Aidan’s pleas. Lydia spotted a woman sleeping in the front seat. She was around the man’s age, possibly the children’s mother, and unaware of her family’s peril or of the others in danger in the store.

  Lydia brushed Aidan aside and then crouched low. She duck-walked away from him and over to the door of the store. Again, he snatched her arm. “What do you think you�
��re doing?”

  “I have to help,” she said. The yelling coming from inside the store and the glint of a gun rattled her to the core. She continued to crouch by the outer wall of the building.

  “Help? Are you out of your mind?” Aidan hissed. “They’re probably armed!”

  “They are,” Lydia said.

  “All the more reason to leave. This isn’t our problem. We’re on the outside. Lucky us. I’d like to keep that luck going, and escape.”

  “Let’s try to find a pay phone,” Jando suggested.

  “We’re lucky enough to be on the outside so we can get the drop on them. They might kill someone if we don’t do anything,” Lydia said.

  Aidan and Jando silenced their protests as she slid along the wall. Lydia peeked around the corner. Through the doors, she spotted one ski mask, gesturing with his pistol in the cashier’s direction. Lydia recoiled from the sight of the gun, but forced herself to continue watching. The ski mask’s partner was nowhere to be seen. From her current position, Lydia didn’t see any way to sneak past him. His side was to her and she would easily be spotted if she entered through the door.

  The roof maybe? A viable option, but Lydia was pressed for time. There was no guarantee there was a way into the store from the rooftop. She considered the windows, but they were shut tight. The only way in would be through the door. The little bell above the entrance inside would reveal her presence right away. She would have to confront the ski mask face-to-face.

  “If you’re going to be stupid,” Aidan said, squatting next to her, “then at least don’t be reckless. Give me your jacket.”

  “You have your own,” Lydia said.

  “Your braces,” he said, pointing to the lumps underneath her jacket. “Act like those are actual braces. When they least expect it, take them out.”

  It was a sound plan. She handed her jacket over to him. He handed it to Jando, who slipped comfortably into it. The chilly wind immediately ran up her shirt. “Where’s the other guy?”

  “Still in the back of the store,” Jando said.

  “Are either of you coming?” she asked.

  The boys exchanged looks. Aidan shook his head while Jando turned elsewhere. “My back is acting up a little,” Jando said. “I don’t think I’d be much use. If you need help, try and give us a signal.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes and the two boys backed away from the door. Her muscles tightened in fear. She felt her courage draining, and she found that the door had suddenly become strangely heavy. She breathed deeply. One, two, three. She pushed a little against the door. Please, God, give me strength. Closing her eyes, she told herself, Now or never. Now or never. Now. She stood and entered, trying to avoid ringing the bell.

  Ding-a-ling! The gun swung away from the frantic cashier and pointed at the door. Lydia snapped her arms to her side, holding them, stiff and awkward. The gun was aimed right at her chest, a chambered bullet ready to cease her pounding heart. Her breath hitched. She choked, chiding herself how terrible her plan was and how the robbers would see right through her.

  The ski mask seemed to relax and waved his gun over toward his partner. “Over there! Not a peep or else!” Lydia obeyed and kept her head down. “Wait!” he barked out. She panicked. Did he see through my plan? She turned around. “Toss that here,” he said, pointing at her bracelet. Lydia removed it and lobbed the bracelet at him. He examined it a moment before pocketing it. “Now get over there. Move!”

  Lydia joined the other customers sitting on the floor. Her hands shook and she stuffed them between her legs. Breathe. Breathe. She slowly recovered, inhaling deeply and rhythmically.

  Three of the guys were gathered around their friend, the one who’d been hit in the head. He leaned against a stack of soda cans, his head in his hands. The two children burrowed into the middle-aged man’s chest, whimpering. “Daddy, I’m scared,” one said. On the floor before the ski mask was a small offering of wallets, watches, and crumpled money.

  The ski mask watching the hostages paid Lydia no mind. He stood a good distance away, checking on his partner every now and then. “What’s the holdup?” he asked, directing Lydia to sit between the father and the guys.

  “Come on! Hurry up!” the ski mask up front said.

  “I’m trying!” the cashier said, hiccupping. “I’ve almost got all the money! Please don’t shoot me!”

  Lydia took in her surroundings. The ski mask guarding her wasn’t paying her any mind. He was focused on the children. However, she didn’t see any way to clobber him from behind. Any action would draw the other ski mask over. Then someone would be shot. What had she been thinking by coming in here? She shook her head. Wish those two would’ve helped me.

  She saw no way out.