“Yup. The yellow ones work wonders. The fish think they’re the real thing.” Being an outdoorsman, James picked up the hobby of hand tying his own flies for fishing. Throughout the years his skill grew to produce an exceptional creation of realistic flies. In his latest creation, he mastered a fly that looks almost identical to a yellow jacket. Three loud pounds thumped the back of the truck. James glanced to his side mirror just in time to see Grey emerge from the rear of the truck. With his belly protruding to the limits of his uniform, Grey was in no shape for confrontation. That’s exactly why he was assigned to the back of the truck. He managed to find the only job on the planet that required nothing, he just had to sit and wait. Grey made his way to the driver side door as James rolled down the window. “Stick em up,” Grey said, holding his finger out in the shape of a gun. “All we got is flash lights and cotton balls,” James replied. “Mmm, let me get my lube.” He gave James a little wink, then turned around. As he made his way to the back of the truck a tainted smile filled his face. James flipped a toggle switch next to his right knee, and the back door popped open a quarter inch. “His brain is fucking polluted. I don’t know why you provoke him.” Thomas was shaking his head in disgust, still fiddling with the files. The back door slammed and two thuds on the cold metal that separated the cab from the back gave James the go-ahead to put the truck in gear. “And we’re off,” James said, tipping his cap. The route went normal in the sense that all the correct stops were made and James seemed to be doing his job as usual. James was a little more quite today, not that Thomas noticed, but James’ brain was on the heist. At each stop James would calculate how much cash Thomas would lug in the back of the truck. He figured nine stops would yield somewhere around eight hundred thousand dollars. However, this was a Friday and because some branches are opened on Saturdays James figured that number could significantly go up. Due to trucks not running on the weekends, Mondays were always the heaviest day of the week, and that’s exactly when James would strike. While waiting for Thomas at stop number nine on the corner of Fell and Broderick, James studied the parking lot to the west. It was the location of the old DMV. Now vacant, the building remained empty for several months. James thought he read somewhere that the city was making it a children’s center. This vacant lot would be the scene of James’ crime; this is where it would all go down. James envisioned a smooth plan. He would pull into the empty lot, shoot Thomas with the tranquilizer gun then radio to Grey that something was wrong with Thomas. He would reload the gun, pop the back and put Grey down. He would be over the bridge before anyone knew what was going on. Movement in his peripheral vision caught James’ attention. He saw Thomas at the back of the truck. James reached down and popped the door for him. As Thomas climbed back into the cab he said, “Nine down, five left.” “Ya. Hey, what are they doing with that?” James pointed across Thomas to the vacant lot. theMeadow 63
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