Creative Writing: The Ski Masks
Someone screams.
Jay turns, following his wife’s eyes behind him to the front door across the diner.
Three men in wet ski masks and camo hunting gear stand holding guns, their barrels dripping rain. “Phones, wallets, whatever,” the man in the orange mask says. “Put all that shit on the table.”
Turning back to his wife, Jay raises his hands, fingers spread just above the table, and looks in his wife’s eyes. “Syl,” he says, his voice a pointed whisper. “Syl.”
Her eyes float slowly from the gunmen to her husband. Tears sit locked and quivering between her lashes.
Jay says, “It’s gonna be alright.” He places a hand over hers. He nods.
Syl blinks and a single tear falls. Removing her hand from under his, she wipes her cheek with her sleeve.
Jay unlatches the watch from his wrist and drops it on the paper place mat in front of him.
Syl, with trembling hands, …show more content…
The hit slams the man in the orange mask’s head into the side mirror, sending him heavily to the pavement as Jay’s shoulder pops out of place.
Coming around the back bumper, the rifleman fires a shot from his hip. The slug tears through Jay’s side, knocking him back. Jay grabs the van’s hood to steady himself as he takes long, deep breaths. He doesn’t look down at his wound.
Rushing to reload, the rifleman fumbles with the bolt as Jay steadies his footing. He stumbles up to the rifleman, grabs the barrel, and, taking one more deep breath, drives the heel of his boot down into the man’s left knee, folding it sideways with a thick, muddy snap. A savage yell erupts from the man’s throat as he teeters over. Jay grabs up the rifle and punches the bolt back into place. He staggers, turning around dizzily, and takes aim.
But from the ground the man in the orange mask has his pistol already fixed on Jay.
“Alex!” Syl screams from inside the van.
Jay turns, following his wife’s eyes behind him to the front door across the diner.
Three men in wet ski masks and camo hunting gear stand holding guns, their barrels dripping rain. “Phones, wallets, whatever,” the man in the orange mask says. “Put all that shit on the table.”
Turning back to his wife, Jay raises his hands, fingers spread just above the table, and looks in his wife’s eyes. “Syl,” he says, his voice a pointed whisper. “Syl.”
Her eyes float slowly from the gunmen to her husband. Tears sit locked and quivering between her lashes.
Jay says, “It’s gonna be alright.” He places a hand over hers. He nods.
Syl blinks and a single tear falls. Removing her hand from under his, she wipes her cheek with her sleeve.
Jay unlatches the watch from his wrist and drops it on the paper place mat in front of him.
Syl, with trembling hands, …show more content…
The hit slams the man in the orange mask’s head into the side mirror, sending him heavily to the pavement as Jay’s shoulder pops out of place.
Coming around the back bumper, the rifleman fires a shot from his hip. The slug tears through Jay’s side, knocking him back. Jay grabs the van’s hood to steady himself as he takes long, deep breaths. He doesn’t look down at his wound.
Rushing to reload, the rifleman fumbles with the bolt as Jay steadies his footing. He stumbles up to the rifleman, grabs the barrel, and, taking one more deep breath, drives the heel of his boot down into the man’s left knee, folding it sideways with a thick, muddy snap. A savage yell erupts from the man’s throat as he teeters over. Jay grabs up the rifle and punches the bolt back into place. He staggers, turning around dizzily, and takes aim.
But from the ground the man in the orange mask has his pistol already fixed on Jay.
“Alex!” Syl screams from inside the van.