Rudy leaned back against the steel back vault wall and wiped blood from his right hand on his dirty jeans. He engaged the safety on his 9MM handgun so he didn’t shoot himself. He caught blue-eyed glare of his friend Glen. Rudy’s thin lips snarled.
Glen looked at their other friend, Coy, whose upper thigh was bleeding. He held a towel over the wound.
“If he gets to die, then so do we. We ain’t going to jail, Ru.”
Rudy surveyed the room. Seven people populated a 20 x 20 stainless steel area. Everyone was sweating as the police that surrounded the bank had turned off the air conditioning. Short but stocky, Rudy maintain a stern demeanor to show leadership.
“If we let the hostages go, they’ll come in here and kill us.”
Coy’s dark eyes watered. He winced and spoke in measured breaths.
“Ru, I thought that’s whatya wanted? For us to be like Billy the Kid and them other dudes? Pals.”
Rudy smirked at Coy recalling their long, bravado filled talks about true friends and never giving up if they got caught.
“Coy, we ain’t made plans to die. We go out today, they’ll chop us up and throw us away unless we get a lawyer.”
From the front of the vault near the locked door, a smallish woman, wearing short blonde hair, and a blouse buttoned to her neck, stuttered.
“Uh, you, you, don’t need an attorney.”
All three men looked at the thirty-something woman with thick cat’s eye style glasses. Rudy, short but stocky with jet black hair and eyes to that matched, stood with his gun rubbing against his right hip.
“What do you mean?”
The woman extended her legs away from her chin and reached inside of her pocket, pulling a yellow notebook and a blue ink pen. Rudy and Glen squeezed their guns, nervously and stared with intensity.
“Well, I could draw your last will and testament. Whatever you tell me to write, I’ll, well, you know, write. Everyone in this room is a notary public. We can make it an official document.”
Rudy smiled at the woman and noticed the looks of shock on the faces of their hostages. He had control of the friends and strangers in the room.
Rudy told her some personal information and gave specific instructions on how and where they should be buried. The woman wrote it all down on three pieces of paper and had another woman notarize it.
Glen got up and walked over to Coy. He pulled up Coy’s weakened body. Rudy smiled at them, then said one more thing to the woman.
“Listen, make sure the headstone is perfectly square with our names, dates of births and deaths I told you, and above all that it says, ’Boys Til The End’. Billy the Kid, Tom O’Folliard and Charlie Bowdre were pals. We’re boys. Got it?”
The boys opened the vault door, brandished their guns and walked to the front of the bank.
This is for Write on Edge’s Red Writing Hood Fiction Prompt: For this week, write a fiction or creative non-fiction piece in which an epitaph features prominently. What is an epitaph? It is a short text honoring a deceased person, often etched on tombstones. It may be a poem, a bit of lyrics, or a quote. This can be a short as the epitaph itself, or the epitaph can be part of a longer story. As our New Year’s gift to you, this will have a hefty word limit: 500 words or less.And one more thing? Since this is a new year, we want you to attempt brand new characters. We love your ongoing stories, but we are curious about what else is in those fabulous imaginations of yours.
Today’s song is from The Refreshments. It’s about another set of dumb boys who thought they were outlaws. Here’s Banditos…