My gun clicked

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"Put all the money from the register into the bag," one teen demanded, waving the retired revolver from the register to the bag.

Michael took the old 1911 and racked the slide as loud as he could. "Come on, man. You're ruining my lunch date."

"And who do you thi..." the teenager saw the old handgun that was now facing him.

"Ironic to use old police guns for this robbery, what about you throw me the revolvers, and no one gets hurt," Michael stared at the two teens.

"Yeah, sounds good to me," the second teenager said, throwing the revolver to Michael and running. Michael poped out the cylinder of the revolvered, and emptied the revolver. The clink of the cleared revolver hitting the floor made the first teenager flinch.

"Now why don't you be smart like your friend?" Michael smirked at the teen.

"What about I shoot you," the teen raised his arm, pointing the revolver at Michael. Michael kept his 1911 and eyes on the teen. The teen pulled the old hammer back. Both looked determined to shoot the other. They both pulled their triggers, both hammers only clinked on the old guns.

Both scrambled for cover. Michael threw the 1911 down and pulled his m9, racking the slide. The teen popped his cylinder out to find no ammo in it. The teen scrambled to get the .38 that was in the other revolver. Michael walked out from cover, and pointed his m9 at the teen.

"Get up, and walk away from the guns," Michael looked pissed.

The teen got up and ran out the door. Michael cleared his m9 and reholstered it.

"I'm sorry for the scene," Michael apologizes to the cashier.

Everyone, too stunned to talk, just stayed still while Michael put the revolvers and ammo on the counter, and cleared the 1911, putting it in his bag. Izzy kinda walked to Michael.

"What happened," Izzy sputtered.

"No idea, unsure my the 1911 didn't work, though it did sit for a long time.'' Michael put the cash and a decent tip on the counter, and left. Izzy followed. They kept walking through the city.

When they went into a store, they grabbed supplies. Michael finds a mid sized fix blade and once out of the store, he hooked it to his belt.

"Wait, why did you get the knife anyway?" Izzy is now curious.

"Bullets are limited," Michael responded.

"And why don't I have a knife?"

"Cause you won't be going with me, I'm dropping you off wherever is safe."

"What why?"

"It's not safe."

"Fine, have you atleast found us a ride to the next town?"

Michael held up a smart phone, "Yeah, I'm gonna find a bike."

"A bike? Like only one bike?"

"Yeah, we have limited cash, and I seem to have been having bad luck with bikes."

"And where are you dropping me off?"

"I have a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yeah, he's helped me on a mission a year or two back."

"And how do you know he won't just hand me over to your company?"

"I never said he was a coworker."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean he was part of a security force that my team had to get through. Long story short, the giant robot wasn't so friendly, we were the only two left by that time. Enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"I would like to hear more."

"He owes me a favor."

"I meant about the story."

"Oh, the robot had lasers."

"What else happened?"

"The robot got destroyed."

"How do you both give me new and old information at the same time."

"Just a skill, I guess."

They kept walking, Izzy annoyed Michael at the lack of information. Michael was scrolling and texting on his phone the whole time. After a few minutes, Michael turned all the way around and walked back.

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