Getaway Man by Kevin Hopson

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Today’s story is by Kevin Hopson, who takes us along for a suspenseful ride in “Getaway Man.“

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Getaway Man
by Kevin Hopson

I sit behind the wheel of the getaway car, eyeing my side mirror as two people in ski masks enter a liquor store. I’m parked across the street, diagonal to the store, my pulse accelerating with each passing second. Delivering pizzas was never this stressful. Then again, it didn’t pay much either.
     My gig as a getaway driver started a few weeks ago. Evan and Karina are my partners in crime, and most of our jobs have been small, quick, and uneventful. Which is how we like them. But those jobs targeted easy prey, such as low-life drug dealers and the like.
     Evan and Karina have been stepping up their game lately, and this is their first time robbing a store, so the fluttering sensation in my stomach is as intense as ever.
     Given my current job, one might assume that I’m a bad person. Or that I’ve been a constant troublemaker throughout my twenty-five years of existence. However, I beg to differ. And not just because we’re ripping off people who deserve it, in my opinion.
     Sure, I shoplifted some bubble gum baseball cards when I was a kid and got kicked out of college for destroying property, but I’ve otherwise been an upstanding citizen. I grew tired of trying to make ends meet, which is the only reason I do what I do. And I take full responsibility for it.
     I notice movement in my peripheral and turn toward the passenger seat window to look. Shit. A cop. Where did he come from? He walks to the rear of the car, and I watch him circle around to my side.
     He puts a knuckle to my window and taps the glass. I immediately roll down the window, and the officer hunches over to meet my gaze. He has a helmet on, and that’s when I spot the motorcycle behind my car.
     “Good afternoon, officer,” I say.
     “Your passenger side mirror has a crack in it,” he says.
     I look that way and, sure enough, he’s right.
     “That must have just happened,” I say. “It wasn’t like that this morning.” I ponder for a moment. “Actually, I remember hearing some rocks kick up on the highway earlier. One must have hit my mirror.”
     The man doesn’t say anything. He just nods. But something else is bothering me. I’m parked on the right side of the street, up against the sidewalk, so he couldn’t possibly have seen the mirror from the street.
     “How’d you know?” I ask.
     “The car behind you is parked illegally. I only noticed it when I was placing the ticket on their windshield.”
     I nod. “I’ll get the mirror fixed ASAP.”
     “Please do,” he says. “Another officer may not be as lenient next time.” The cop’s eyes wander as he inspects the interior of my car. “Are you waiting on someone?”
     It’s a reasonable question since the keys are in the ignition and the engine is running.
     “My wife,” I answer.
     I’ve learned that being vague, especially when dealing with someone in a position of authority, is best when lying. Providing too many details can bite you in the ass later.
     “Does she work here?” he says, motioning to the building beside me.
     Thankfully, I’ve been inside before. There’s a food court on the first floor and businesses on the upper levels.
     “No,” I say. “She’s just getting some coffee at the café.”
     The cop bobs his head. “I could go for a cup myself. It’s a chilly day.”
     I feel inclined to say more, but I stop myself. I wait for him to speak again.
     “Have a good day, sir,” he finally says.
     “Thank you, officer. You, too.”
     I wait for the officer to mount his bike and head off. Once he’s gone, I sigh in relief. I check the time on my phone. Evan and Karina have been in the store for several minutes. They said they’d be in and out. A few minutes at most. Unless…
     Damn it.
     Could they have exited the store while the police officer was talking to me? If so, they’d have to flee on foot. I check my phone again. No texts or calls from either of them. I take a breath, debating what to do. Part of me wants to wait it out, but curiosity is getting the better of me. I have to know.
     I turn off the engine, pocket my cell phone and keys, and get out of the car. A brisk breeze slams my face, and I tug my jacket tighter. I’m parked near the corner of an intersection, but I don’t bother waiting at the crosswalk. I look both ways and dart across the street when no one is coming.
     Stopping in front of the liquor store and peering inside would definitely be suspicious. Instead, I glance through the window as I pass by. I don’t see Evan or Karina. In fact, I don’t see much of anything.
     My heart races as adrenaline courses through me. I consider turning around and walking by the store a second time, but my gut tells me to keep going. So, I do. I walk toward the next intersection when a rattling noise causes me to pause.
     There’s a dimly-lit alley off to my right, which is where the sound seemed to originate. I take a few steps toward the alley, a shadow appearing in the distance.
     “Karina?” I say. “Evan? It’s Sam.”
     “In here,” a male voice says.
     I move deeper into the alley, and that’s when I feel a hand on my shoulder. But it’s not a gentle squeeze. The hand forces me against the brick wall, a breath escaping me. Then there’s another hand at my neck. This one is holding a knife.
     “What the hell?” I say.
     “Give me your wallet,” the man says.
     It’s obviously not Evan. Evan doesn’t have a beard, and this guy has one hell of a bird’s nest sprouting from his face.
     “Okay,” I finally say. “I’ll get it for you, but ease up a little.”
     The man doesn’t oblige. His knuckles dig into my skin, the blade of the knife only inches from my throat.
     “Now!” he demands.
     I glide a hand into my pants pocket and retrieve the wallet. Before I can pull it out, there’s a blur in my peripheral. A fist comes into view. It strikes the man square in the jaw, and he immediately drops to the ground, the loose knife clanging against the pavement. When I look to see who the assailant is, familiar eyes stare back at me.
     “Karina,” I say.
     The man could have unintentionally cut me with the knife after getting blindsided, but I’m not about to second-guess Karina’s actions.
     “Are you okay?” she asks.
     “Yeah.”
     “We saw the cop and had to improvise. Go get the car. Pick us up at the corner of 4th and Canal Street. We’ll be waiting there.”
     My brow furrows. “Where’s Evan?”
     “We had to split up, but that’s our rendezvous point. Go now.”
     I don’t hesitate. I hurry back to the car. When I approach the rendezvous point, Evan and Karina come into view, and both of them have drawstring tote bags slung over their shoulders. Karina slides into the passenger seat while Evan gets in the back.
     “You have a cracked mirror,” Karina points out.
     “I know,” I say, merging into traffic. “That’s what the cop told me. It must have happened on the way over.”
     “We’ll need to get that fixed. We can’t have our getaway car drawing unwanted attention next time.”
     “I’ll get it taken care of tomorrow.”
     “Sounds good.” Karina glances at me. “Did the cop give you any trouble?”
     I shake my head. “He didn’t even ask for my license and registration. He just wanted to point out the problem.”
     “How nice of him.”
     My thoughts exactly. Then I notice something. No sirens. And it’s been at least fifteen or twenty minutes since the robbery.
     “How is it that the cops haven’t arrived yet?” I ask.
     “Yeah,” Evan says, chuckling. “About that.”
     I eye him in the rearview mirror. “Wait. You didn’t—”
     “No,” Evan interrupts. “You know we never kill.”
     “Then what happened?”
     “The owner had a taser, but he ended up tasing himself by accident.”
     Karina snickers. “Yeah. He could still be incapacitated for all we know. And no one else was in the store at the time. So, unless someone came in after us, I doubt anyone has called 9-1-1.”
     My lips stretch into a grin, and my shoulders bob from laughter. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.

About the Author

Kevin has dabbled in many genres over the years. A few of his stories have been contest/award winners, and Kevin’s work has appeared in more than twenty anthologies. You can learn more about Kevin by visiting his website at http://www.kmhopson.com.

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