At the drugstore, Arianne saw a man standing at the customer service counter. As she walked toward the counter, he spoke. “Good morning miss; may I help you?”
“I bought this machine, yesterday; but I don't think it's working right; I know it was on clearance, but I don't want it anymore. I don't care about the money; I just don't want it.”
The clerk reassured Arianne. “Don't worry about that; clearance or not, we'll refund your money. Can I see the box please? I need to scan it.” He scanned the box, but the computer buzzed, noncompliant. He tried again, then tried typing the item number by hand. The computer still refused to cooperate.
“This item isn't in our system;” he said, “are you sure you bought it here?”
Arianne may have been angry, if she had felt anything. “I'm certain I bought it here,” she said, producing the receipt, “at 5:15 pm yesterday.”
The clerk looked at the receipt. “I'm sorry; this receipt says you purchased a hair dryer and a can of ravioli.”
Arianne was confused. “That can't be correct; you can ask the person who helped me last night. Is Wilton in today? He helped me with it.”
The clerk looked at Arianne, and felt sorry for her. “Miss, I've been a manager here for two years. No one named Wilton works here.”
Arianne stepped back, looking pale. “That can't be right; I remember him.”
The clerk was starting to get nervous; he thought Arianne might be sick. “Is there someone I can call for you? Are you sure you're OK? Maybe I should call an ambulance.”
Just then, a man strode to the counter and shoved Arianne out of the way.
“Open that cash register right now!”; he screamed at the clerk. He was holding a small pistol, and nervously waving it at the clerk. Squinting at the clerk's nametag, the gunman continued. “Don't try to be no hero, Connor; I don't want you pressing no silent alarm.”
When she heard the name Connor, time seemed to stop for Arianne. The criminal's face froze into a sneer, with droplets of spit hanging in midair inches from his mouth. A loud roar began to build, growing to the point of becoming painful, then ending suddenly. Arianne looked around, trying to identify the sound; she realized, to her horror that the gun had been fired. The bullet was slowly creeping through the air towards Connor. Arianne didn't know what to do. She looked around, but everyone else in the store just stood, frozen in place.
Tentatively, Arianne reached out and touched the spinning bullet with her finger. She quickly jerked her finger away; the hot round had burnt her. The bullet wobbled slightly but continued on its path. Arianne steeled herself and struck the bullet with her hand; it careened off course, angling toward a display of bottled water.
“What the hell?!”; the thief barked as water showered the counter. He raised the gun, aimed and fired at Connor's head.
More confidently now, Arianne stepped into the path of the bullet and grabbed it from the air. The gunman stepped back, startled by Arianne's sudden appearance, seemingly out of thin air. “You think you're some kinda superhero now? I seen you here before; you're just some stupid chick that don't even talk!”
Seeming to move faster than a blink of an eye, Arianne grabbed the gun, wrenching it from the thief's greasy hand. The gunman stumbled back, suddenly afraid of Arianne.
“Wha, What in the hell are you?” he stammered; then he turned and ran from the store.
“You just saved my life!” Connor's voice broke Arianne from her state of shock. “How did you do that? I thought I was dead!”
“I... I don't know! Everything is so wrong today; I don't know what to do!”
“Just calm down;” Connor said, “everything is going to be all right. Just tell me what's happening.”
Before she could speak, Arianne heard the sound of sirens from a police car arriving in the parking lot. She still wasn't frightened, but she knew that the police would have questions that she didn't know the answers to.
She planned to walk out the door, blend into the gathering crowd and slip away quietly, but she didn't realize that she was still holding the gun she had taken from the thief. As the crowd began to back away from her, an officer stepped out of his car and shouted at her. “Get on the ground right now! Drop your weapon and get on the ground!”
Arianne protested, speaking calmly; “You don't understand. I'm not the thief; he just ran out a few seconds ago.”
The officer was not interested in her explanation. He repeated his demand. “I said get on the ground right now!”
Arianne closed her eyes and took a deep breath; then she opened her eyes and addressed the officer; “I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that.”
With that, she began walking toward the officer, hoping somehow to get away. The officer moved to cover, behind the door of his car, then raised his Taser and aimed it at Arianne's chest.
Arianne continued walking toward the officer. “Stop right there or I will shoot you!” The officer shouted.
Arianne held the gun by the barrel. “I'm sorry officer; I can't stay here.” She raised the gun above her head, signaling that she didn't intend to use it, but the officer mistook this for an aggressive move. He fired his Taser. For Arianne, time seemed to freeze again. She let go of the gun, which hung in the air right where she left it, then easily sidestepped the prongs and wires of the Taser. While everyone else seemed to be frozen in place, Arianne walked away, crossed the parking lot and got into her car. Only then did the world outside seem to go back to normal.
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