Anne opened the door. Carlos smiled warmly and looked her up and down.
Hunger drove the men toward a diner in the middle of the night.
The follicles on his face still disappointed him with patchy, inconsistent growth.
Carlos checked his watch nervously, waiting for the vault to open. He wore a hat to hide his face.
They took their steaks rare, “kiss the grill” they said, blood dripping down their chins.
She had on his favorite silk nightgown, purple with black lace edges. Her legs pale and smooth.
The trucker next to them at the bar stared in disbelief, then locked eyes with the waitress.
Heavy, the steel door swung slowly on its massive hinge. Inside, the walls were lined with deposit boxes.
She padded in her stocking feet over to the cabinet and got down a box of cereal.
The waitress looked just as shocked, “I guess you boys were pretty hungry,” she deflected.
Someday, his beard would fill out. Until then he would stand out in the small mountain town.
Carlos stood nonchalantly, and walked toward the back of the bank.
Sugary kids cereal was her favorite. She poured the silk until it floated in the bowl.
After pulling on his coveralls and boots, Sam grabbed his shiny new axe.
They ate like animals. Snorting and growling, focused only on the meat.
He attempted to steady his shaking hand by gripping the pistol tighter in his pocket.
His axe glistened in the morning sunlight, and his breath hung in the air like steam.
Anne stared into his eyes across the breakfast table. Her hair a mess and makeup smeared, “I love you.”
Number 313 held the object of his desire, and the beautiful bank teller was in his way.
A roar from the closest drifter, and he snapped his bright red jaws at the waitress.
He would give her one chance to comply, but he wasn’t afraid to fire.
“I love you too.” He smiled and put down his spoon. “Last night was perfect.”
The forest green truck made him feel the part as the big V8 fired up. He put the axe in the passenger seat.
“I had fun too.” She took a bite of Froot Loops and smiled, crunching.
The trucker said, “Now let’s calm down now,” and gently reached out toward the animal man’s arm.
He passed her the note and she turned white. She looked at his face and gasped. “Carlos?”
The road turned from gravel to a blacktop highway and he turned toward the diner downtown.
“First day at the bank, huh?” He asked, then sipped his coffee. “Are you nervous?”
The place was a bloodbath. Booths and 60’s decor spattered with viscera.
“Should I be?” She quipped. A drop of milk fell on the purple silk of her nightgown.
Sam didn’t waste any time. Soon the flies would smell the bodies, then it would be too late.
“Just open the gate, Anne.” Discretely, he withdrew the gun. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
No sign of the drifters. He didn’t think there would be. Two nearly raw, unfinished steaks were left on the counter.
She couldn’t breath. She shook her head, “No, I, I can’t. Please don’t!”
Sam wiped the dark blood from the wooden handle, then tossed the axe aside.
“Step aside Anne, I need something from the vault.” He pointed the muzzle at her stomach.
Every head separated from their shoulders. He would have to burn the coveralls back at his cabin.
She was frozen, nothing but a small whimper escaped her lips. “I thought you loved me.”
After a hot shower, he felt new again. The violent images from the diner flooded his mind.
“I do.” He said, and pulled the trigger. A flash and a thunderclap tore through her pantsuit and her pale skin.
Sam felt the loss immediately. A series of pictures flashed before his eyes. A bank, a gun, a girl.
Carlos stepped over her body and stifled a deep aching sob. Only the object in 313 mattered now.
He knew where he was going next. He found a disposable razor and started shaving off the spotty stubble.