Like Candy from a Baby
The Switchman
Hot damn, this feels good!
All his life he’d done the right things. He’d told the truth. Worked hard. Ate his vegetables—even those disgusting, squishy, boiled Brussel sprouts his mother had foisted on him.
And where had being a good person gotten him?
Nowhere.
But he’d changed all that today. In just a matter of minutes he’d gone from nowhere to on his way. Hell, he’d never even held a gun before today. What a rush! He’d felt powerful. In control. But most of all, he felt vindicated.
Smokestack might have cajoled him into the bank heist, but he’d been right. Only a wimp would accept being tossed out on his ass without fighting back.
Nice guys finish last.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
The Switchman sat back in his seat on the front row of the bus and slapped his knee. “Who knew robbing a bank and hijacking a bus would be so easy?”
Smokestack, who sat directly across the aisle, sniggered. “Told ya.”
Smokestack had also claimed that ninety percent of crimes went unsolved. The Switchman figured his partner had pulled that number either out of the air or out of his ass. He hadn’t called the guy on it, though. It didn’t matter what the odds were of getting caught. Once he’d decided to go through with this plan of retribution, there was no way he’d turn back. He’d laid out a whole new course for himself and he couldn’t wait to see where it would take him.