The Banks Sisters Read Free

over the counter and hurried toward them making up the rear. He turned around and seen one of the remaining tellers press the silent alarm button. He aimed in her direction and squeezed the trigger. Bullets flew like a swarm of bats coming out of a cave. The slugs found permanent homes inside of her face, neck, breast, and stomach. Her body dropped and the masked men rushed for the door.
    More screams of fears erupted from a couple people, scared shitless and worried that they could be next. But the guys kept heading to the door.
    They were home free and Simone was still alive.
    Finally, the nightmare is over! She looked up to the ceiling as if she could see God. Thank you Jesus!
    Simone thought as the last one was of the deadly crew had one foot out of the door and one foot still inside. As she was about to exhale—grateful that she hadn’t been too physically hurt but saddened for those who had, the unthinkable happened.
    The dude wearing the Jason mask, stopped at the door and turned around. Then he randomly pointed the AR-15 into the bank, for no apparent reason.
    Simone’s breath froze into a block of ice, trapped in her lungs. She found herself staring down the muzzle of the assault rifle like a deer paralyzed by the headlight of an oncoming speeding truck before the fatal collision. There was no time to duck or move out of the way and even if there had been a beat or two to get out of the line of fire, the suddenness of the act combined with her reincarnated fear of dying, held her in place like a straightjacket.
    God help me! she prayed!
    But it was too late . . . With a diabolical look, Jason pulled the trigger.
    Boom!

-2-
    Bush shoved the bank’s door open, leading the bloodthirsty crew across the street through the moving traffic to the waiting van. Once inside, the crew felt they were home free.
    â€œWe did that shit, man! We fucking did that shit,” Ski-Mask said with a big smile on his face as he pulled his mask off. “Told you motherfuckers, we were going to make this shit do what it do.”
    â€œGo! Go! Go” Bush slapped the back of the head of the driver, putting pressure on him, “Get us the fuck from round here.”
    The driver in return, put the van in gear and pressed on the accelerator. He moved into traffic. They’d done it. They’d robbed the fucking bank and was going to be a’ight . . .
    â€œWe up now!” Ski-Mask said.
    But before the celebration could get in full bloom, Bush noticed the two police cars.
    â€œShit!” He looked again, “Fuck!”
    At the same time, to intensify things more, Jason opened the bag and dug his hand inside, a dye pack exploded. He quickly removed his hand and shouted, “Fuckin’ bitch! No! No! No! No! No! Not, a fuckin’ dye pack!” Jason looked hurt as if someone had just taken his manhood.
    â€œThis shot was all for nothin’ man?” Freddie shouted out of frustration.
    The others looked down at the bag, just as two police cruisers turned the corner and blocked off the street. They exited their vehicles and leaned over their hoods with their weapons aimed at the van.
    â€œFuck, man, what the fuck we gone do?” Freddie got a bit antsy when he noticed the cop cars were blocking the one-way street. Two more black- and whites bent the corner behind the van, hemming them in.
    The vibe inside of the van flipped from jubilant to morose in the blink of an eye. Two black and whites parked nose to nose in the middle of the street blocking their van from continuing forward.
    The driver tried to quickly diagnosis the situation to figure out the best way out.
    Jakes crouched behind the makeshift barrier, guns in hand and ready to earn their pay. The two cop cars behind them had now turned into six, and eliminated the option of backing up.
    â€œIt’s work shawty! My turn now to put in mine! Buckle up my niggas!” the driver shouted out. He seemed to be getting an adrenaline