How he had ended in this situation? Tom pondered. He had been lazying about the coffee shop as ever. Sipping his brew, reading his newspaper, and then the waitress, acknowledging his status as habitual, offered him a small errand for a couple of free bagels. Liquor store friend, she said. Do me a solid, she had said.
And now here he was, his trousers stained with spilled coffee, sitting on the ground, while a crude barrel of a shotgun aimed at his face. His hands up in the air, he bore a scowl between boredom and annoyance, but he wasn't trying to force anything of the situation. Other hostages were at the mercy of the handful of thugs, who were now manhandling the clerk for the cash, waving their irons around. They were the kind of ugly, thick bodied and thick minded sort, the pawns a gang would use as fodder.
He looked to his left, and then right. Here, a granny was cowering. Hah, should've left the alcohol earlier in her life! Tom bitterly thought. There, a couple of youths which obviously were trying to use fake IDs to pick booze soon found themselves regretting the decision. The boy had pretended to be brave.
He had been lucky to get away with a broken nose. Still, it moved Thomas apathic heart, seeing himself a mirror of the boy when he had been his age.
But she's gone Tom. She's dead. Like everything Whuston related. He bit his lip, before a foot poked his thigh roughly.
"Hey you, what's with your funny looking face? Are you trying to be the hero?"
A long sigh was his answer, as his eyes lazily rolled around. "I wonder if I truly can be one". He added, as afterthought.
"What?" The thug said, before a leg firmly smashed his trigger hand, quickly disarming him. Thomas quickly rose, adquiring a martial arts stance, before a second roundhouse kick stunned the goon, sending him tumbling to the ground. The other two thugs caught notice, as they started to fire. Alcohol and shards flew everywhere, but Thomas rolled on the ground, grabbing the discarded shotgun, and emptying it in the poor thug's feet, turning them into screaming, tumbling messes.
"Heroes don't gun perps down because they're in their way. I do." Thomas said, before tossing the shotgun, now empty, away. "Tell this to whomever sent you to rob the store. Don't cause shit in my vicinity. I don't appreciate it."
I wonder if i'll still get the free bagels? Thomas thought as he fled the scene.
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