No Need for Tommy Guns

by Rachel Bjerke

"This is the dumbest idea you ever had!" she yelled. The sky overhead was black, though it was only noon, and the wind whipped her hair straight up over her head.

"Yeah, but if it works, we'll be rich!" he yelled back. They kissed one last time. If it didn't work, they'd be dead.

The tornado roared two fields away, so loud she covered her ears. It had grown out of the sky fast, they hadn't had time to grab their Tommy guns. No matter now.

They slipped inside the bank. No one was around, just like he had said. In the vault, they filled their bags, alarm blaring unheard under the storm.

 The sky lightened and they ran out the front doors in time to see the bank employees emerge from the storm cellar outside.

 But nobody saw the pair leave in their borrowed Model T.