Back in the Hood
Page 14
Once again, all the teller could do was nod as her eyes watered and her breaths increased, so much so that her chest was rising up and down and Malek could clearly hear her inhaling and exhaling.
Malek noticed the pictures of the teller and her children that were placed inside her space. “Give me the money so you can go home to your kids. Now, just calm down and be smart,” Malek said, trying to coach her through the robbery.
She fought back her tears while doing just as Malek had instructed.
“You’re doing good.” Malek briefly looked over his shoulder to make sure Scratch still had the guard’s full attention.
Scratch was nearly to blows with the security guard. He was being pushed out of the bank. “Get yo’ mu’fuckin’ hands off me, man,” Scratch screamed as he tried to get back into the bank; but the burley guard wasn’t having it.
The security guard was too big for Scratch to muscle through, but he was putting up a hell of a fight and causing a scene. Even the bank manager had approached them. With all of this going on, not one person was paying attention to Malek and the teller.
After tangling with Scratch for another minute or so, the guard finally decided to just pick Scratch up and toss him out of the building like Mr. Banks used to do to Jazzy Jeff on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
Just as Scratch was hitting the ground, Malek was coming out of the building. He even smiled at the guard on his way out. The bank deposit pouch stuffed with money was under his armpit, inside his coat.
Scratch got up from the ground, fussing and cussing all the way around the corner. He was sure enough putting on a scene until he rounded the corner, flipping off the security guard as he walked out of sight.
Malek was waiting on him in the parked car. “Let’s go, Scratch,” he yelled out of the window as he started up the car.
Scratch hurried into the waiting vehicle. With Malek in the driver’s seat, they sped off without looking back.
Before the guard even noticed that the bank had just been robbed, Malek and Scratch were gone. Malek thanked God that he had gotten out of the bank without falter. He would be no good to anyone locked up, and what he had just done was a major risk. Even so, he knew that bank envelope didn’t hold all the ransom money he needed in order to get Halleigh back.
As he drove, he got his mental together and prepared for bank job number two.
Just minutes later, Malek and Scratch were at another bank not too far from the one that they had just robbed. Working with very little time, they couldn’t afford to take a break. They had to do this thing guerilla-style. Malek knew that he would have to go all out to get the half million.
Malek and Scratch were running the same game that had worked so well at the first bank, but this time they ran into a problem: a cop came in during the middle of their caper.
When he arrived at the bank, Malek had filled out a deposit slip, the same as before. He scoped the place out and noticed the security guard, this one less on guard than the one before. He was too busy checking out the female’s asses to pay attention to Malek. The more Malek thought about it, he probably really didn’t even need Scratch to perform his Oscar-winning role. The big-bootie women were distraction enough. Still, if it wasn’t broke, there was no need to fix it, so things went on as planned.
Ironically, though, an cop came to the bank on his lunch break to cash his Friday paycheck. Just as he pulled up in front of the bank and was about to get out of his car, he heard on his police scanner about the other bank robbery that had just taken place. He listened as the voice on the radio explained how one man caused a distraction while another man stuck up a teller.
At first he was going to drive over to the other bank location to see if they needed any assistance, but decided that since he was already at the bank, he’d go ahead and cash his check and stop by the other bank afterward. He was confident that his fellow officers had everything under control.
When the police officer got out of his car and entered the bank, he walked in and saw Scratch acting a fool. The security guard on duty was almost unable to contain the man. The officer shook his head, realizing that this security guard probably needed his help more than the officers down at the other bank.
“Where the damn manager?” Scratch yelled. “My fuckin’ money didn’t come out that raggedy-ass ATM machine.” Scratch went on his rant as he walked over to the banker’s desk in the middle of the medium-sized bank.
Malek was taking the money from the teller while the security guard was trying to calm Scratch. Just like before, all eyes were on Scratch—with the exception of the police officer, who had entered the bank in the midst of the mayhem.
At first, it was the officer’s instincts to go over and try to help get the situation under control, but then he remembered the call that came over the radio describing the technique used to rob the bank earlier. He looked around, wondering what the chances were of the same exact thing taking place just a few blocks away a few moments later. When he saw Malek and the teller—the only two people in the bank not distracted by the commotion going on between Scratch and the security guard—he knew the chances were greater than he’d initially assumed.
“Remember, just stay calm and everything will be okay,” Malek reminded the nervous teller just as the police officer slipped his hand down to his gun and walked up behind Malek.
Malek tried to keep his head low. His brim covered most of his eyes. He could see the teller slipping one hand under the counter as she gave him the money with her other hand.
“What the fuck you think you doing?” Malek said in a harsh whisper. He pulled back the hammer on his gun, which lay on the counter pointed toward her.
She quickly put her hands where Malek could see them. Before he could do anything else, he heard the voice of the police officer behind him.
“Put your hands in the air where I can see them, son,” the officer ordered with his gun aimed at Malek. “It’s over. You’re not getting out of here with this money today,” the officer said sternly, but without raising his voice. The cop deliberately used a calm tone because he didn’t know Malek’s state of mind and didn’t want his suspect to harm the innocent teller, who was already visibly frightened.
“Fuck!” Malek cursed to himself under his breath as he thought quickly about what to do. But what could he do with a gun pointed to his head? Still, that didn’t keep his mind from racing for a way out—hopefully, with the money.
Within five seconds, Malek had weighed his options and decided to do what he had to do. “I’m not going to jail today,” Malek whispered just before he swung around, catching the unsuspecting cop off guard with his bold actions. Malek immediately began firing his gun, hitting the cop in the midsection.
The cop managed to let off a couple of rounds, but none of them hit Malek as he ducked, dipped, and dodged toward the exit, using people as live body shields to deter the cop from firing at him for fear of shooting an innocent bystander.
The patrons in the bank went into a frenzy at the sound of the gunfire, and it became complete mayhem as screams and the sounds of a stampede caused by the panic echoed through the building. Before the security guard could react, Scratch had grabbed the guard’s gun from his waist and pointed it at him. Malek saw the officer he’d shot gasping for air as he dropped his gun and held his mid-section.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Malek repeated as it registered in his brain that he’d just shot a cop. He quickly exited the bank, and Scratch followed close behind.
“What the fuck happened, youngblood?” Scratch asked in confusion as he ran, almost out of breath. Scratch’s eyes were bigger than golf balls. He couldn’t believe what had just gone down. It was a horrible misstep that was sure to make them wanted men, especially if the cop died.
The Flint Police Department was like a gang in its own right. When one of their own went down, they held no mercy on the trespasser. Malek and Scratch would be hunted to no end, and when or if they were caught, they might not ever make it to th
e jailhouse. The Flint police might just deliver them to their graves.
“We weren’t supposed to kill nobody. That was a fuckin’ Jake!” Scratch yelled as they hopped in the car.
Malek quickly sped off. His mind was so messed up over the shooting that he didn’t even stop to look to see if there were any cars coming, almost hitting a passing car as he pulled off.
“Watch it, youngblood,” Scratch warned him as they weaved in and out of traffic.
“My fault,” Malek said, looking through his rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. He hit the steering wheel with his fist.
“He just ran up on me, man. I had to,” Malek yelled as he maneuvered through traffic and made the getaway.
Scratch kept looking back to see if anyone was behind them as they sped onto the city streets, trying to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. Malek periodically looked in his rearview and then focused back on the road.
“Fuck!” Malek yelled again as he repeatedly hit the steering wheel in total frustration.
Once again he peeked in his rearview and then looked at Scratch, who looked more nervous than ever. They had just stepped into the big leagues. Not only were they bank robbers, but possible cop murderers. Nothing seemed to be getting better, only worse, and they were headed down a path of destruction.
Urban Books, LLC
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Flint Book 5: Back in the Hood © copyright 2008 Urban Books, LLC
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ISBN: 978-1-5998-3145-9
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