They strolled out the door and to the parking lot. The weather was just about perfect, though it was beginning to get a little colder because it was getting later. Peter walked across the sidewalk and headed for the car, which was parked on the opposite end of the lot. The burger joint wasn't too busy that night, Peter observed, since there weren't many cars in the lot. As he and Thomas headed down the street, a green, dirty looking VW minibus headed into the parking lot. It parked in a spot not far away from the door and two men came out. One was short, dark haired, and had dark eyes. He had a beard, and wore jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. The other was taller, but clean shaven and had red hair. He wore jeans as well, and a t-shirt from The Who. His eyes, Peter observed for some strange reason, were bright green. Thomas had stopped on the edge of the curb to tie his sneakers, and now ran to catch up to Peter.
In his hurry, he wasn't paying attention, and accidentally bumped into the taller man. He stopped and stared up at the man. He seemed to be almost mesmerized by the red hair and green eyes staring down at him. When he'd regained his senses, he spoke, "Uh, s-sorry," he mumbled to the man, and stepped out of the way. Neither of the other men spoke. They just looked at him and stared. Thomas began to feel as if their eyes were boring into him.
"Thomas?" Peter called suddenly from across the lot. "Are you coming?" The voice broke Thomas out of his trance, and he glanced toward the sound. When he looked back towards the men, he saw that they were already across the lot, entering the burger joint.
Nicole and Joanne were sitting in the burger place. They'd gotten their food and, too hungry to wait for Peter and Thomas, she'd paid the bill herself. Starving, she began to eat her hamburger while Joanne munched on some fries. Bored, and having no one to talk to, she began to watch the other customers in the restaurant. Next to her was a booth with an old couple and a younger child, most likely their granddaughter. The old couple was asking the girl about her school work. In the back corner was a man reading a newspaper. A few others stood at the counter being served. A rather fat man with blond hair and thick, round glasses stood behind the counter barking orders to the other employees. Nicole wondered if it was a state law that all managers of burger joints had to be fat men who barked at their employees. Not yelled, but barked. Though it seemed likely that if you worked in a burger joint long enough to be a manager, you'd seen your fair share of burgers. And eaten your fair share. While she was musing over this, the door opened. A tall man and a short man with a beard entered. Every one in the place stopped what they were doing and looked at the two men. The man reading the newspaper put it down and looked up. The old couple and the girl stopped talking and looked toward the man. The employees stopped working and looked at the doorway. Nicole, who hadn't really been doing anything, stopped eating. The whole place was silent for a few minutes. The only one unaffected by the change was the boss. The fat man had been in the back room when the two men entered, and now he came out to find everyone silent. The door slammed behind him, and the customers went back to their food.
"Well?" the fat man barked. "What are you standing around for? Get back to work. " The employees all quickly went back to what they were doing. The two men strolled up to the counter and began to order, and the employees rushed around, filling it.
"Will there be anything else sir?" the girl behind the counter asked. She was young, with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed neatly in the uniform provided by the company. The man shook his head. The girl named a price, and the taller man reached in to his pocket to take out some money. Just then there was a crash from behind her. One of the employees, a young teenage boy, had accidentally spilled some soda on the floor, and it was now flooding all over the floor.
"DAVID," the fat man barked. "ARE YOU SO INCOMPETENT THAT YOU CANNOT CARRY A CUP ACROSS THE ROOM WITHOUT DROPPING IT? CLEAN THAT MESS UP!" Nicole wondered if the fat man had once been a drill sergeant in the army. The young boy knelt down on the floor and began to mop up the mess with a towel. The fat man continued barking. "COME ON, DAVID," he barked. "HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE YOU TO WIPE UP A SPILL?" David began to wipe faster, and the fat man continued to bark at him. Suddenly, David stood up. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THAT FLOOR AIN'T CLEAN YET," the fat man barked. David ignored him. He went into the back and returned a moment later.
"Don't come near me," he said to the fat man. "I don't want to hear your crap no more." He took his hand from behind his back and pointed a gun at the fat man. The rest of the customers were by this time silent, and when he'd retrieved the gun, they began to panic. The little girl screamed, and everyone dived under the booths. Nicole grabbed Joanne and dived under the table.
"Now take it easy, Dave," the fat man said calmly.
"SHUT UP!" David barked. He turned to the dark haired girl at the counter. "Lock the door," he commanded. She just looked at him for a moment. "Lock it," David repeated, thrusting the gun in her direction.
"I-I h-haven't g-got the keys," she stammered. David looked back at the fat man.
"Gimme the keys," he commanded. "GIVE ME THEM," he shouted louder when the man didn't comply after a moment. Shaking, the fat man reached into his pocket and took out a key ring. Dave grabbed it from his hand and tossed it to the girl. "That's better," he said. The girl went over to the door and locked it. Someone was about to enter the place, and when they discovered the door was locked they began to protest. "SHUT UP," David shouted. He pointed the gun at the window and began to shoot. Bullets flew through the window, and the people ran. Inside the customers and employees screamed and ducked.
Peter had just reached the car when he heard gunshots. He turned around, panicked, and looked at the burger joint. He saw the people outside running away, and the broken window, and took just a second to put two and two together. Thomas looked up at him.
"Dad?" he asked. Peter looked down at him. "Now what?" Thinking on impulse, Peter opened the car door.
"Get in the car," he commanded. "And don't move an inch, understand?" Thomas nodded.
"Where are you going?" Thomas shouted, but Peter didn't answer. He was already running across the parking lot. When he reached the burger joint, Peter looked inside a side window. Inside, he saw a teenage boy holding a gun. He was yelling at a fat man. He didn't notice Peter outside the window. Peter looked around, thinking. There was a pay phone on the other side of the building, but he'd have to go through the boy's line of sight to get there. He decided he'd have to risk it. Slowly, he crawled across the front of the building. There were bushes surrounding the building, and he could easily hide there without being seen. When he reached the door, he'd have a problem. He decided he'd have to run across the building quickly and hope that the boy didn't notice the movement. He waited until the gunman (gunboy?) wasn't looking towards the door, and then he scooted quickly across. Reaching the other side, he heaved a sigh of relief. Staying low so that he wouldn't be seen by the people inside, he crept to the telephone and then reached up to grab the receiver. He dialed the police while sitting on the ground and waited for the response. After he gave the police the information, he ran back to the car where Thomas was as quickly as he could. He sat down on the trunk. Thomas opened the door and stuck his head out.
"What's going on Dad?" he asked. Peter looked at him for a moment, catching his breath. Thomas got out of the car and climbed up on to the trunk. "What's happening in there?" he asked again.
"A hostage situation," Peter said.
"What's that?"
"Well, one of the employees, that's the workers, got angry with his boss and decided he couldn't take it anymore. So he got out a gun. Now the people that are in the place can't leave."
"Why not?"
"Well, there afraid they'll shoot him. At least that's the way it seems."
"But Mom's in that store," Thomas realized. "And Joanne." Peter nodded.
"I know. And a few other people. But I called the police and they'll take care of it."
'I hope anyway,' he added silently.
