“Or at least not yet anyway,” he added, glancing at his companion as he wrapped an arm around his knees, “they were getting pretty rough with the cashier last I saw…”
And for the second time that day, Hyunwoo felt his heart stop when, as if on command, he heard a scuffle break out before one of the gunmen shoved a now crying cashier to the floor and the next thing everyone heard was the sound of a gun going off.
“We’re not leaving here fucking empty handed, you hear me?,”the leader of the trio yelled as he stomped away from the cash register, drowning out the sounds of the cashier’s raspy breaths.
“Take whatever the fuck you can get! Or did you forget we’re the ones with the guns!”
it was probably smart for them to get closer together, able to talk at even lower volumes, but that didn’t mean jeongguk had to like it. his bubble of personal space was larger than most, as her largely preferred to remain unbothered at all times, but given these were special circumstances, he would allow it without a complaint, and without a second thought.
not yet, he said, voicing the words jeongguk didn’t dare say lest-- the gunshot rang out. yes, that. jeongguk wasn’t superstitious, believing everything had a reasonable pattern or explanation or both, but he knew there was a pattern of seeming to curse something by entertaining a negative possibility. it seemed that was the case here, and jeongguk remained stoic even in the face of the quiet cries of the cashier. “they shot him now?” he asked, confirming, despite already knowing the answer.
he took out his phone again to shoot his contact at the mpd another text: one shot, i think. i can’t see it for myself. he got an answer back in response almost immediately, like the notification of his latest message finally compelled the man to check his phone and see the prior ones. we’ll send help as soon as we can, his reply read. that was good enough for jeongguk. now they just needed to hold out as long as they could.
(for better or worse, he had faith the mpd valued his life enough to put a little extra priority on this crime than they usually would, with as spread thin as they constantly were.)
he should probably start carrying a gun. it made him feel too much like a cop, but maybe he needed to accept his fate as always being mistaken for one by everyone that knew his occupation and embrace it. it would certainly be useful to have a gun right about now, even though he still doubted his ability to remain cool-headed when it came to actually pulling a trigger.
instead, he reached up his pant leg, always a little baggy these days precisely so he could strap a knife to his leg. it’s what he retrieves now, stuffing his phone, on vibrate, back into the pocket of his jacket. “stay down,” he muttered lowly before defying his own orders and standing, knife in hand, listening for the stomping footsteps throughout the store, and the cries of the others in the store. it sounded like they were harassing one of the innocent people now (outside of the cashier, of course.)
he still decided not to move. he could save more lives if he was alive than he could even if he died to keep the people here alive; he hoped so, anyway.
