Free Baltimore Chronicles by Treasure Hernandez Page A

have to get some more tens,” the teller said. “I will be right back.”
    Danielle figured the teller was probably getting a bag to put the stacks of money in because she had been warned in the note about panic buttons, dye packs, and calling the cops.
    Sticks watched the teller from a distance. He noticed her give the teller to her right a little side glance. Then the other teller looked down and reached for something. Sticks tapped his foot impatiently. He figured whatever the middle teller had said to Danielle was a code for the other teller to push her panic button.
    That was enough for Sticks. He walked over to Danielle, who looked up at him as if to say, What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?
    â€œHoney, we gotta go. We can stop at another bank on the way out of town,” he said, grabbing onto Danielle’s arm.
    â€œOn the way out of town” was the signal to abort the robbery. Danielle quickly followed Sticks’ lead and split.
    When Timber noticed them rushing to try to get out of the bank, he lost it. “What the fuck is you doin’, nigga?! I ain’t leavin’ outta here without some paper!” he screamed loudly, pulling his gun from his pants.
    Screams erupted all over the bank. People began running for the doors, and some got down on the floor.
    Meanwhile, the little old security guard tried to draw his weapon, but before he could even hoist it up, one of the younger crew members shot him dead. Bang! Bang! Bang! “Yo! Let’s go, nigga!!” Sticks screamed to Timber.
    Danielle began running for the door, but the other security guard tried to grab her. Timber lit him up with his semi-automatic, and the guard’s blood sprayed on her face and clothes, making her sick and weak. The adrenaline pumping through her body and the baby in her belly was a bad combination. Danielle felt like she would faint at any minute.
    Timber continued to spray at random. The inside of the bank was pure pandemonium now, with bodies dropping from his reckless bullets. He jumped up on the counter, but the bulletproof glass was too high for him to climb over it. When the tellers had all fled to the bank’s emergency robbery shelter, Timber got so angry, he started shooting more of the bank’s patrons at random.
    Sticks heard the distant wail of sirens. He was finally out the door. Whoever wasn’t with him would just be left behind.
    Danielle was right behind him but starting to fall farther behind. Trying to keep up with him, she kicked off her heels and tried running barefoot, but she was too weak to pick up speed.
    Sticks knew they had a car waiting for them one block up, but they hadn’t given the driver the signal to come get them from the front of the bank. He took off down the street, but the block was beginning to fill up with cops.
    Timber was now hot on Sticks’ heels, but Danielle had fallen farther back, her chest burning with each step.
    â€œPolice! Drop your weapons!” a cop screamed at them.
    Timber turned and opened fire, hitting the officer right in the head.
    â€œGet the fuck in, nigga!” Sticks screamed to Timber as he and Timber got to the getaway car.
    Danielle was still coming toward them, trying hard to make it. Winded, she continued struggling, running for her life. She heard loud pops as the cops opened fire on them, and bullets whizzed by her head.
    Sticks jumped into the truck, and so did Timber.
    â€œWait!” Danielle screamed, tears and makeup streaking her face. It looked like they were leaving her.
    â€œPut it in reverse! Reverse out the block!” Sticks screamed.
    The driver did as he was told.
    Danielle was almost there, but then they started moving away from her. “What are y’all doin’?” she screamed. “Sticks!” The faster she ran, the farther away the getaway truck went.
    â€œDo it now, nigga!” Sticks yelled.
    Timber extended his arm out of the window and opened fire on