I tapped my fingers against the counter. Noise was never absent. The lights shone bright from above. The bell above the door occasionally rung.
'Hello,' a woman waved to me.
Straightening my posture, I fixed my hair. 'Hi there miss, what can I get you?'
'Those new donuts you have, what are they called again?'
'Creamy Deluxe.'
'That's it! I'll have a box of a dozen please,' she started digging in her purse.
Entering in her order on the issues tablets we cashiers use, I sent it to the bakers out back. 'It'll be 11.99'
She handed me a twenty, 'Keep the change,' she moved aside at the pickup line.
I looked once more at the door. Raising my right arm, it felt chained, I couldn't pull it out any further.
'You two need money if you're to survive in modern society,' Mrs.Mystic took a seat behind her desk.
'Heros don't get paid?' I sat down as well.
'Professional's do, when they expose their identity.'
'Then what about you,' Anne fixed her dress as she took a seat beside me.
'The government is who pays us, and they know how we do things down here,' she straightened her glasses, 'So they pay me to keep order down here.'
'So you're a teacher, political influence and hero?'
'Basically.'
Anne and I looked at each other. Having three very important roles in society must've been tough to maintain.
'So we need to get jobs,' Anne looked at me then back, 'So when can we start?'
Pulling her belt tightly around her waist, Anne placed on her orange cap. Posing infront of the mirror, she glared at her breast. Normally in a dress, she didn't concern over her flat chest. Now she stared and stared it concerned her.
I knocked on the door, 'Hurry up, managers gonna get mad if you don't get out here soon!'
'In a minute!'
Returning to my post, a man in a black hoodie and ski mask stood. Knowing what he was going to most likely pull, I entertained his show.
The man pulled out a gun, barrel to my forehead. Looking at the customers who were eating, they were tossed into a sudden panic.
They ran for the door.
Barging through the door, more men, armed with handguns as well.
This seemed unusual for a quick money grab. The men would be better off robbing a bank.
'Wheres Anne Sullivan,' he pressed his barrel mote against my forehead. It was cold. Partnered with a sense of loss. I began to wonder how many people he's killed with this gun.
'Who?'
With his free hand he grabbed me by my neck and slammed my head into the cashier.
'Don't act dumb. We know she's here,' he grabbed my hair and pulled me to look him in his eyes, 'Or should we show you we mean business?'
From behind them, one man dragged in the manager. Bound to rope, tightly gripping his skin, it bore a red mark. Looking into the eyes of the fat man he would've disclosed Anne within seconds, to save his own skin.
'He know's, just remove the ductape.'
The man released me. Pulling out a pocket knife, I made a rush.
'Don't go playing hero,' with great reaction, the man aimed his gun at me, and with everything seeming to slow down he placed his finger on the trigger. Slowly he pulled it. As he pulled the trigger, I could see the lead bullet coming my direction.
Crashing through the door, Anne in her costume took out the armed men at the front entrance.
As she removed that threat, I threw my pocket knife at the bullet, tossing it onto a different course before sweeping the man off his feet.
Without the manager seeing Anne ran right back out.
Moments later cops showed and took the men. The officer's had asked details on what had gone done. Asking me, simply I told them 'I took one down while some women in white showed up for a second, removing the others.'
They huddled around, whispering something so I couldn't hear the details.
Looking out the corner of my eye, I could see Anne standing behind the counter talking to another officer. Thinking back to what the man said, he asked for Anne. It bothered me since that someone came looking and nearly found her. When enrolling as Heros-undertraining, we were told our identities would be kept secret from the public. For someone to know who Anne and I with and without the mask meant they had to be related to the federal or state government somehow. Unlike us, Mrs.Mystique is a full-time hero so the world knows her identity. Only thing the world doesn't know about are the underground cities that the government built for the heros, one per state.
'Sir!'
I cranked my head up, 'Sorry, I was contemplating things,' I faked a nervous smile to the cop.
'Anywho, do you have any clue why the suspect was reportedly heard to be asking for a girl named "Anne." '
'I wish I could tell you,' I shrugged to my own incompetence.
'Well,' the officer paused for a bit before coming back from his notepad, 'Thank you for the insight,' like that the cops were gone.
After all commotion died down, Anne and I returned to Mrs.Mystic's office.
'Any clue who they were?'
She gave a slow nod, 'Unfortunately I don't.'
'What will we do about our jobs though?'
'That? I've got something better for the two of you.'
We looked at one another, 'You do ,' we questioned at the same time.
'You'll work as my bodyguards, seeing as I'm a governmental official.'
'That sounds amazing and all, but wou-'
'You would have to expose your identities to the public-'
'But-'
'But what? You two have no close love ones left, right?'
Anne chimed in, 'We will happily take your offer, but first, but first we need to attend the will exchange for my late parents.'
'Ah yes, that's fine,' Mrs.Mystic fixed her crooked pen on the desk.
'We'll be back in a week,' Anne stood from her seat.
Copying her, we left the room closing the doors behind us. 'Is it really wise for me to come along too?'
'Relax, you're practically my blood brother, they'll treat you the same as ever!'
I thought about Anne's other relatives. They did treat me well, as if I was related to them. All but Aunt Betty White. She never liked me. I could tell from how she treated me in comparison to the rest. Mrs.White didn't even seem to care much of Anne either, but I could always be imagining things, I hoped.