HeavyLight

All Rights Reserved ©

HeavyLight: Chapter 12

I know for a fact that if someone two years ago were to point at me and say “in exactly two years, you will steal a car from a government owned facility along with a drunken frat bro and a girl who’s probably made love to a trucker in a gas station bathroom and killed him afterwards” I would have been like “...what?” But since that’s exactly what happened, I would have now shrugged and said “Huh...should have seen it coming.”


So here’s what happened.


Roger agreed to drive Kevin Strokehard, No-Face Lacey, and me to the gun shop to buy some body armor and then to the impound to steal back my car before the police got around to fixing their DNA scanner which they can use to trace me back to a past crime I committed. I hadn’t learn until recently that day that Hoss Huntington's Road Side House of Firearms sold body armor, which we needed for a list of stuff to get before we rob a bank again. I went and grabbed the Piggy Bank off my dresser and then we all got into Roger’s blue windowless van.


Kevin and Lacey were in the back, doing whatever it is that they do. Roger and I were in the front, he was driving of course. “So...where are we heading?” He asked.


“Haven’t I already told you? We’re going to the Gun Store to buy some armor. Then you are going to drop us off at the Impound.” I said.


“Sounds good. Now, why is that weirdo with the baseball cap and the hooker coming with us?” Roger asked.


“You mean Kevin and Lacey? Well, Kevin needs the practice, and Lacey might be a potential candidate to be a henchman once I think I can trust her. But I figured I should have backup in case I spot the Heat coming from around the Street.” I explained.


There was a sudden muffled ringing sound. Roger reached into the pocket of his Denim Jacket and pulled out a cell phone, handing it to me. “It’s for you.” he said. My first thought was ‘how does he know it’s for me?’ Then I saw the phone and realized that it was actually my own phone. So my second thought was ‘why did you have my phone in your jacket pocket?!’ But there was someone on the other end that desperately wanted to talk to me right then and there so I decided I would address Roger on the subject later.


I placed the phone to my ear and said “Yo...”


A voice crackled on the other end. “I told you, I wanted corn flakes, not actual corn; corn flakes! Who the hairy butthole eats an ear of corn for breakfast?” The voice shouted.


“Uh....excuse me?” I asked.


“Sorry, I was talking to Carol. Anyway, it’s me, David. I want to talk to you.” Said the voice.


Dang it. I hate talking to David Pincher. Having agreed to be our “paid hostage” for the duration of the bank heist, I passed on responsibility of communicating any necessary information to Jumbo Jim. So he was the one David was supposed to talk to, not me. But for some reason, apparently there was something Jim didn’t explain to David and he decided to talk to me.


“...What do you want?” I asked.


“Where are you right now?” He asked.


“...What does it matter to you?” I inquired.


David chuckled softly, the way a smug little prick would. “Oh Red, you silly goose. Don’t you see; we are partners in this endeavor now! That means I need to know where you are at all times. You know where I am, right? I am currently in the bathroom, taking a bath while my girlfriend Carol refuses to make me breakfast. So I would like to know where you are right now. If you don’t tell me, I will not hesitate to repeat myself and include the word ‘please’ in my speech. I warn you though, it’s one of the English language's most devastating verbs/adverbs/interjections.”


I rubbed my temples vigorously, trying to cast out the headache that was looming on the horizon. “Well...if you must know...I’m in the van with Roger and we are heading off to the Gun Store.” I explained.


“Are you going to buy polish so that our guns look nice and shiny for the big debut?” He asked.


“Actually, no, and I thought Jumbo Jim already told you this but we don’t have any guns yet. I mean, sure, we each have the guns we carry on our person; Angry Steve’s lucky pistol, Jumbo Jim’s revolver, that sort of stuff. But we don’t have big, intimidating guns. Steve is supposed to get those and...right now he’s at the movies. And that’s not a code phrase for anything. He’s literally at the movies right now. So we don’t have the guns yet.”


“Really? Have you forgotten that I am apart of this now? We can simply use my guns again! I mean, you can’t have a play without the right props. I’m willing to loan you my weapons again, but they must be thoroughly polished.” He said.


I honestly felt kind of relieved. I was afraid Steve wouldn't get around to finding new weapons, so we might have to buy some plastic guns, paint the orange tips black, and just fake it. Now I guess Steve was going to be the polisher of David Pincher’s firearms, and in that equation, everybody wins. We get the guns, Steve’s honor is redeemed, stuff like that. So that was another thing off our list, which meant we just needed the body armor and the explosives, and of course a sixth henchman if Lacey decided not to join us.


“That sounds great, David. Great talking to you.” I said, glad he couldn’t see me. There’s no way I could have said that with a straight face.


“Alright, well I’d like to talk to you about Carol. She wants to be apart of the Heist somehow. I think she should be the getaway driver. What do you think?” he asked.


I hit the “end” button on the phone and turned it off, stuffing it into my pocket. Glancing over at Roger, I remembered that there was still some unfinished business I needed to discuss with him.


“So...Roger...why was my phone in your jacket pocket?” I asked.


“We’re here...” he said, pulling into a parking space in front of the gun store.


I immediately forgot what we were talking about. “Alright, you stay here, I’m going to head on in.” I said. Pushing open the door, I step out into the warm air as the time changed from morning to noon. Then I walked around to the back and opened up the back of the van. Inside, Kevin was weeping into his hands while Lacey sat next to him on Roger’s bed, holding him close with her arm around his shoulder.


“Listen to me; if she can’t see you for who you are, then she doesn’t deserve you...” Lacey said, gently rocking Kevin back and forth.


Kevin continued to weep. “But she...but she told me she loved me...why would she do that to me?” he said between sobs.


“Uh...guys?” I asked.


Kevin stopped weeping and looked up from his hands. Lacey first checked her watch and then looked at me as well. “...What’s going on?” I asked.


Kevin sniffed once and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Nothing...bro. It’s all good. I was just...talking to Lacey...” he said.


“Alright...well...we really need to get going. Alright, guys?” I said.


Kevin nodded and got up. He got out of the van and made his way to the store, but Lacey stayed behind to inform me of what had just happened. “Uh...Kevin’s going through some personal problems right now. He’ll be fine in a little bit.” She explained to me.


“....Right.” was all I said before closing the subject and deciding to not open it again. So we headed on into the Gun Store. The building itself was just a concrete cube doused in red paint with a wooden sign that read “Hoss Huntington's Road Side House of Firearms” along with another sign that read “now selling body armor!” that must have been put in like a day ago. After pushing through the big metal doors, I was greeted with about 53 degrees of cold air being blown right in my face from one of the 4 massive air conditioning units built into the ceiling. The wall behind the front counter was decorated in all kinds of crazy looking firearms, and the counter itself had a built in glass case displaying even more weapons. To my left was a rack of body armor and to my right was a collection of other random articles of clothing than had been hung up as well.


Kevin was busy talking to the guy at the front desk who looked to be a middle age gentleman with a big hammurabi beard and comically big secret agent glasses. Little bits of body hair stuck out of the sleeves of his flannel jacket and his leather belt just barely held in the mass of flesh that was his rump. “So...let’s say I want to shoot someone with a bullet that first goes through them...but then seeks out any witnesses and goes through them too, and then explodes into dust so there’s no evidence. Do you happen to have something like that?” Kevin asked.


The man chuckled. “Boy, what you’re looking for is the 2016 BadMaster Augmented ‘Smart’ Bullet. Now on sale for only 67 thousand dollars.” He said through his thick beard.


“A box?” Kevin asked.


“Nope. Just one bullet.” He said with another chuckle.


“Oh...well shoot. I guess I’ll just have to wait for time to take care of my grandma.” Kevin said before walking away.


I walked up to the counter and said “Hey, I’m Red. We’re here to buy some body armor...and some weapon cleaning kits.”


By now, I’ve assumed that this man’s name is Hoss Hutchinson, based on the sign, so I’m just going to refer to him as Hoss from now on. He scratched his scraggly beard with his big yellowish sausage fingers and said “Hmmm...welp, weapon cleaning kits ain’t cheap. Not since every other company besides BadMaster stopped making them. The price is quite steady, but I’m sure that a hunter such as yourself will make good use of them.” He said.


I wasn’t a hunter, but if he wanted to believe that, I’d let him. “Alright, what’s your cheapest?” I asked.


He set a briefcase down on the counter and opened up, revealing a plethora of fancy cleaning supplies and metallic slides. The only problem was that there was a big “500$” sign slapped on the inside of the case’s top. I almost punched myself in the fist when I saw that. “500? That’s alot for one clucking case, man.” I said.


Hoss shrugged. “You get what you pay for, buddy.” He said.


I glanced down at the piggy bank I was holding. It contained all the money I had with me, and I wasn’t sure how much that was. So I began emptying it out onto the counter. A lot of people just smash their piggy banks, but this one was an antique passed down to me by my grandpa and I couldn’t destroy it; it held too many memories. But at the same time, it took some time to get all the money out of that little opening in the piggy’s porcelain belly.


No-Face Lacey was distracted by the guns on the wall. She scratched her hairless chin in thought. “Hmmm...that rifle looks kind of neat. What’s the biggest scope I can get for that?” She asked.


Hoss reached under the counter and pulled out a full sized telescope; like the kind that you use to view stars. He smiled and held it up for her to see. She thought about it, but withdrew on the offer which I can’t really blame her for. “Naw, I don’t think I’ll ever have a use for that. The only way that would really be able to use that is if I had to assassinate someone who was standing on the surface of the Moon. And that would only really be necessary in the event of an alien civilization taking over the Moon which actually might happen according to the most recent speech given by Rush Limbaugh during a Radio Show.” She said.


“Didn’t that guy used to do Oxycontin? Man, that bro knows how to party!” Kevin exclaimed.


I finished emptying out my piggy bank and counted up all the money I had. Now, among the cluster of green 20s and 100s, I found that I had 1,950 dollars. Everything else was pennies, and being the financial wizard I am, I accounted for them too, making up for a total of 2,000 dollars. That’s alot for one Piggy Bank. “Alright, so if I pay 500 for one case of weapon’s cleaners, I’ll have 1,500 left over.” I said, exercising my basic math skills. We shook on it, initiating the process of buying the object, and he handed it off to me while I handed him handfuls of pennies as well as a few 100 dollars.


“Great. We got a cleaners kit. Come to think of it, David should already have a cleaners kit since they are his firearms originally. But considering that he doesn’t actually doesn’t surprise me given what I already know about him. Alright, So you sell body armor now?” I asked.


“Oh, yes. We do now that sanctions have been lifted and we can begin importing originally illegal equipment to be sold to the public without a permit. That set over there is comprised of a Light class of body armor that can withstand light-arms fire. It’s Light in it’s class but it’s heavy in the fact that it weigh 30 pounds. Still, you get what you pay for.” He said.


“Oh, so it’s like Heavy-Light armor? Sounds feasible. How much?” I asked.


“500$.” He said.


“Oh, a set?” I asked.


His lips twisted into a deranged grin, revealing two sets of dead, yellowish brown teeth. “No. Just one unit.” He said nice and slowly so I could understand him clearly.


This caused me to take a step back in my thought process. Now, 500 times 4 is 2,000, and we needed armor for six people. But I only had 1,500 dollars. So now how many pairs of body armor can I get? This actually sounded like a really odd Math worksheet problem, and that kinda pissed me off. But anyway, do you know what the answer is? The answer is not enough. We couldn’t afford to ration our body armor; there’s no telling who would get shot. But I didn’t have enough money to cover it all, so I decided to see if the two lackies behind me would spot me some money.


I glanced over my shoulder at my two henchmen. Kevin was elbow deep in a trashcan, digging around for who-knows-what. “Kevin...uh...what are you doing?” I asked.


“Ah, man, I’m practicing dumpster diving. I wanted to start at the bottom level and work my way to the top, so I’m trying my hand at dustbins first.” he explained.


“...Alright...do you happen to have any money on you?” I asked.


“Sorry man, spent it all on this hat.” He said.


I turned to Lacey who was running her hands up and down a white camouflage coat hanging on a rack on the right side of the room. “Ooh...is this real fur?” she asked.


Hoss shrugged. “Eh, depends on what you consider to be real. Polar bears are nearly extinct, so soon they won’t be real anymore. I guess in that case, no. It’s not real fur.” he said.


“Lacey, can you spot me some money?” I asked.


“Sorry, I like to practice the buddhist concept of self-reliance and denial of the false pleasures of wealth. Also, I spent the last of my money on a gold necklace which I ended up losing on my trip to Tibet last year. The irony almost made me commit suicide.” She explained.


“...So...that’s a no I guess...uh....” I said, turning back to Hoss. I wasn’t sure where to go from there. I guess since if we didn’t have body armor, we would have to resort to intimidation, which didn’t work so well for us last time. But now we had six people, so based on what Dougman said that should make us look like a real bank robber group, so that might intimidate the guards and the police enough to not shoot on sight. And we might not necessarily for everybody to wear armor; those who don’t can just wear an extra leather jacket underneath their business suits to give the impression that they were wearing body armor.


But then again, who wouldn’t get the armor? We’d have to figure out who would wear armor and who wouldn’t, and we’re all equal in this endeavor so we’d be going against that principle by denying someone their protection against bullets. So I decided to keep pressing it.


“Can we...negotiate a deal or something? Is there a sale on body armor you haven’t told us about yet?” I asked, crossing my fingers and toes at the same time.


Hoss scratched his chin in thought; then he scratched his cheek, then his forehead, then his rump. “Yep. I do actually. You see, I’m trying to get rid of some masks. I got a shipment of them and they kinda creep me out. How about this; I’ll sell you a unit of Body armor at 250$ if you agree to take one mask with you. Sound good?” he asked.


“Depends. What are these masks you are talking about?” I asked. He pointed to a box sitting in the back corner that said “do not open unless you aren’t afraid to throw up blood.” I wasn’t sure if that was just an exaggeration; I had no idea how creepy a few masks could be. So I made my way towards the box, a little uncertain if I wanted to open it at all. As I was peeling back the cardboard flaps that covered the box, I was feeling a bit anxious. But as soon as I saw what was inside, my anxiety faded into the kind of disappoint you get when you go into a Theatre to watch a movie you thought was going to be scary but turned out to be about as scary as a chocolate labrador with a top hat.


“Hold on...these are all president masks...” I said.


Hoss bent over and made a weird gulping noise. “What? What’s wrong?” Lacey asked.


“Don’t you dare speak that word in this building...” He demanded.


“What? President?”


He gagged again, placing a big meaty hand on his stomach for support. “...President. What an awful word. Let me tell you this since you are in the vicinity and I need to vent a little. The big reason why I wanted to erect this establishment was so I could fight back against the ‘man’ and that ‘man’ is the President and his council of crazy kid kissers known as ‘the senate.’ So the idea that the manufacturers of the goods I sell would ship me a box of their faces in latex form seems unreasonably preposterous to me. But by the code of the arms-dealer, I can’t destroy any of my product no matter how vulgar. So I am giving them away. But only one per unit; I still have to operate on a basic fair trade system.” Hoss said.


“....Cool! We actually do need some masks.” I pointed out. I remembered that for the first Heist, we wore masks to hide our identity that happened to be president masks. Now, I’m not sure where they all went; for all I know Jumbo Jim could have accidentally thrown them into the washing machine with a red sock and ruined the color of all them so I might as well get some new ones just in case. I also needed Lacey and Kevin to pick out their own masks.


So I scuffled through the collection of masks illustrating all different presidents. I picked out an Obama mask, a George Bush mask, a Clinton mask, and a Richard Nixon mask for myself. Then I turned to Lacey, who was picking at her teeth with her nails, and Kevin, who was sitting on the counter smoking some donkey tail. “Hey, guys, come pick out a mask you like.” I said. They both raced over, giggling and pushing each other away like children.


“I want that one! I want that one!” Kevin chimed.


“No! That one’s mine! You can have that one!” Lacey exclaimed.


They both dug into the box, tossing masks out left and right before they finally found the pair they liked. Putting them on, they stood up and turned around to show them off. Lacey wore a John F. Kennedy Mask and Kevin wore a Ronald Reagan mask. I shrugged; it seemed like a reasonable decision to me. “Alright. We’ll take them.” I said.


“Excellent! Now I will be able to afford to purchase a full page ad in the Phonebook to my store!” Hoss exclaimed. After that, we paid for our stuff and carried them out. Well, Kevin and Lacey carried the armor, I carried the case. It’s best if the Henchmen do all the hard work. So we got all the stuff into the back and I made my way back around to the front where I opened the door, planted my tail end in the old leather chair, and turned to Roger.


“Alright. The Impound. Now.” I said.


“Did I hear a ‘please’ somewhere in there?” Roger asked all sarcastically.


I rolled my eyes but only half way because my eyes don’t roll all the way around my eye socket do to an odd birth defect I have. So I just settled for a sigh followed by “please take us to the Impound.” He nodded, and we set off towards the next part of our adventure.


Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.