Flash Fiction by Armand Rosamilia
Amanda said it as a joke, but Mel looked at her like she was serious. The boy had no sense of humor.
Mel opened his mouth and closed it several times, like a trout she’d once caught in Dunn Creek and held in her arms for too long. Her deddy yelled at her to toss it back in or put it in the damn cooler, but Amanda had stared at its mouth until it either died or her deddy took it from her. It was a long time ago and she couldn’t really remember the specific details.
“I’m thirsty and hungry,” Amanda said. “Coffee. Lots of cream and sugar. A glazed donut. Not one of those chocolate ones, neither. You like them, not me. And hurry up. I wanna get on the road before dawn.” She smiled. “Please and thank you.”
She didn’t know why she’d asked for coffee and a donut. He’d asked, right? She knew they had a long road ahead of them. Jacksonville to Canada was going to be a long, winding trip.
They’d be able to officially start the journey once Mel robbed this convenience store and got a couple of hundred bucks to add to the two grand they already had. That was what he swore he’d get, since he used to work here for a couple of weeks about a year ago. One of his many jobs that didn’t last.
Amanda was sick of working at the strip clubs in town, done with turning tricks so she could pay the rent on their trailer. She wanted to go legit and be a normal woman, before her looks gave out or she stretched her body by popping out little Mel’s while in Canada.
Canada. She’d never been there; had a vague idea it was north of Florida and that was about it. Mel couldn’t stop talking about the great outdoors and building a cabin in the woods for them.
They’d already hit three convenience stores on the start of the ride, two in Jacksonville and one in Georgia. Now they were outside of Valdosta, where Mel was from.
Amanda had never been to see his family or friends. Mel had always pushed it off, saying there was nothing for either of them in Valdosta.
She supposed there finally was, since here they were.
Mel had parked the pickup truck in front of the gas tank, as if he was just another customer running inside for a pack of smokes before pumping.
There was no one else in the lot this early in the morning.
Mel put on his ski mask, made sure the pistol was loaded, and jogged inside. “Be right back.”
“Glazed but not chocolate,” Amanda had yelled out the open window.
She noticed he’d left the keys in the vehicle and the stolen money tucked under the seat. He trusted her, and well he should.
Amanda had never done anything wrong in Mel’s eyes. Not that he knew of, anyway.
Mel was waving his gun at the clerk. This should be over soon enough. Grab the cash, run to the car and drive off. He’d swapped the license plate when they’d started, so no one would know who they were.
She heard the gunshot a second later and leaned forward to get a better look through the dirty windshield. Had Mel shot the guy for taking too long?
No. He burst out of the convenience store clutching his chest. He’d been shot. The damn clerk had shot Mel.
Mel staggered toward the pickup. No gun. No money. A look of confusion and fear in his eyes.
Amanda knew she had to act. She slid over into the driver’s seat and started the pickup, cutting the distance in half to Mel.
He slammed a hand on the driver’s door, trying to open it.
“No, I’ll drive,” Amanda yelled in his face.
The clerk stepped outside, wielding a shotgun and a crazed look in his eyes.
Bloodlust, Amanda thought.
Without thinking she floored it, and before the clerk could step back onto the sidewalk, she rammed him with the pickup and he was thrown backwards and into the glass doors, shattering them.
Mel had fallen in the parking lot.
Amanda got out of the pickup, running inside and punching buttons on the cash register until it opened. She scooped out all the cash, checking under the drawer for large bills. Maybe two hundred dollars if she were lucky.
There were no sirens, but she knew she was on camera. She filled a plastic bag with the cash and then made herself a large coffee, taking two glazed donuts with her. She’d reached for a chocolate glazed for Mel but knew he wasn’t going to make it.
Amanda ignored the blood on the front of the vehicle and drove off down the road, sipping on her coffee and eating her donuts.
In half an hour the police lights began to rise in her rearview mirror and Amanda sighed.
Bio:Armand Rosamilia is a full-time author of crime thrillers and horror with over 200 releases to date. He loves coffee, bourbon and bourbon-flavored coffee.
Follow him on YouTube – https://www.youtube.com/@ArmandRosamilia
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AuthorArmandRosamilia
Cover Photo by:pexels/Erik Mclean
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