... As I lay there, it occurred to me that I could die that night.
A shotgun blast to the chest isn’t the most dignified way to go,
but it could be worse. I think some small part of my mind had always figured
that if I were to die a premature death it would be from consuming some
dangerously expired jar of... well, perhaps Russian fish paste, or maybe
a poisonous bottle of Jamaican pufferfish extract, improperly treated
in production. Point is, when food poisoning seemed to be a sure bet,
the prospect of death by shotgun felt disturbingly romantic. And the only
thing I was regretting as I lay there was that I wouldn't get to know
her.
... It was during this rumination that Anil
activated the security system. Steel shutters slammed down outside all
the windows and the front door. We were in lockdown. There was more screaming.
The second gunman smashed a security camera with the butt of his shotgun.
The first gunman ran to the entrance and started hitting the roll-down
door, flailing about wildly at it. I stood up cautiously and looked at
Anil, who was cursing as he fiddled about behind the counter.
... “Are the police coming?” I
asked quietly, glancing at the girl who was watching the robbers, mouth
open in surprise.
... “No!” sobbed Anil. “The
robbery button is broken! I hit the riot button! We’re on lockdown!
And I can’t get it back open!”
... I worked over the implications of this.
That the store had such a complex security system was unsurprising to
me. That it was in poor repair and half broken was not shocking either.
“The riot button?”
... “For when there are riots and looting,”
he explained, beginning to panic.
... The two gunmen met in the middle of the
store, hoarse whispers audible to everyone. One rushed to the back door
and disappeared. The other turned. “Everyone stay cool. I’m
going to come around and take your cell phones.”
... The robber’s voice was wavering
and panicky. Me and the girl made eye contact. The man came over and collected
my phone. He wore hideous jeans embroidered with sequins in the shape
of a Chinese dragon and a faux leather jacket. A beard poked out from
under his mask. His hand was sweaty. He rounded up all the phones, spending
a minute yelling at the grandmas, not believing them when they said they
didn’t have phones. I was wondering how much of an asshole this guy
must be when both of them caved and handed over their iPhones.
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