A Simple Job
By Evan Drake
© 2019, Evan Drake, All Rights Reserved

It was supposed to be a simple job. Nothing fancy, nothing special. Basic breaking-and-entering. Get in, grab the goods, and get out. To ensure everything went smoothly, Nate spent months planning ahead. The right target, the right time, the right escape route. It was going to be the easiest job he ever pulled.

When he saw Carmen Bleeker's Instagram profile, he knew she was easy prey. At least once a week, she posted a ton of selfies in her house. Thanks to her, Nate knew the layout of the place without ever setting foot through the front door. She really should've paid more attention to her backgrounds like the bills with her address left careless on the coffee and end tables, the jewelry on the dresser, the expensive figurines on the shelves, her lack of an alarm system, or the safe that appeared in almost as many pictures as she did.

Getting the rest of her information was child's-play. One peek at her Twitter profile told him everything else he needed to know. Thirty-two years old, single, no children, no pets, and no immediate family even in the same state. She hated her neighbors, and they her. She worked freelance as some kind of architect or something. Her job wasn't really important.

Nate tightly gripped the .22 in his hand, pointing it at the masked interloper. He should've known this job was going to attract others. Carmen was just begging to be robbed, so there was only a limited window to operate from.

That was why he kept such a close watch on her social media profiles. If someone robbed her before him, no doubt she would post something about it. He scoured her pages every day to make sure the window hadn't closed.

Even tonight, he didn't let his guard down. He made sure he wasn't being followed. He was a little worried to find the back door unlocked, but an undisturbed coating of dust covered everything in the house. If someone had came there before him, he would know. The only explanation was that this interloper had followed him and snuck in behind him. He should've known it was too easy when he discovered Carmen wasn't home. There was nothing in her social media profiles, so it must had been a spur-of-the-moment thing.

Regardless of Carmen's reasons, this sneaking bastard in the green ski mask was easy to read. The plan was probably to lie in wait and let Nate do all the heavy lifting then strike just before he left. But the robber had screwed up and let himself be seen.

“H-Hey, Nate. It's me, man," Green Mask said. “Stop playing around."

“Shut up!"

“You're scaring me. What do you want? A bigger cut?"

“You honestly think you're leaving here with anything?!" He clutched the coin in his left hand closer to his chest. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was old and that made it valuable. It was the only thing in the house worth stealing. The figurines were nothing more than cheap knockoffs, the jewelry was fake, and the safe held only this single damn coin. He almost mistook it for a quarter and ignored it, but luckily he chose to pick it up as immediately afterward, he saw the other thief.

Green Mask knew about the coin. It was the only explanation that made sense.

“Seriously, Nate, what the hell did I do? C'mon, at least tell me that much before you kill me."

“I said, shut up! How do you know my name? How long have you been following me?"

Green Mask stepped away, his pain visible in his green eyes. “It's me, Edward. You know, the guy you knew since first grade? I came here with you; don't you remember?"

Nate said nothing. He remembered Ed, but he didn't remember Ed coming with him on this job. His hands began shaking with rage. This guy had the nerve to try and use his friend to confuse him.

            Green Mask snatched the mask off his head, revealing the narrow features of a silver-furred anthro's face. His long ears were pinned back, likely to accommodate for the mask. “See, man? It's me."

            Nate squeezed the trigger, hitting Green Mask in the shoulder. The anthro cried out, clutching at the bleeding wound. He stared at Nate, his face a mixture of shock and pain. Nate didn't hesitate to fire again, hitting his target in the side. Green Mask stumbled backward into the wall then slowly slid to the floor, leaving a bloody streak on the wall.

            With a bloody hand, he reached out. “N-Nate--"

            Nate fired a third time, this time the bullet struck right between the eyes. Green Mask's head jerked then fell forward, his chin resting on his chest as if sleeping. Tucking the .22 back into the waistband of his jeans, Nate turned away and left the house. This whole night was a waste and a mess, but at least he got something out of it.

            Once he was outside, he looked at the coin in his hand. The way it shone in the street lamp made him feel strangely calm. He could stare at this thing for hours on end. Suddenly feeling eyes on him, he stuffed it in his pocket and continued on. No way he was selling it. It was his, and no one else's.