Warning: Collateral Damage

The building alarms were quieter because fewer functioned. The remaining sound dispersed into the giant hole blasted through the center of the bank headquarters.

Water crashed over a bubble. It cascaded into the split vault. Paper currency shreds soaked amidst runoff. Metal sand swirled across the polished metal floor. A canyon that cut into the ground soil drained water, slushy paper, metal splinters, and the sands. But it looked to be filling fast.

Mop threads swayed like Medusa’s hair as Darius pointed it toward the floor. Glass, wood, cement, broken pipes, and shattered furniture pieces rained from the hole above.

Darius let five of his arms release the glowering handle. Water ran from the threads like a faucet someone forgot to close. A miniature waterfall poured out. Boots crunched over gold doubloons fallen from the shelf. He crouched to reach for one but stopped before touching it.

He turned back toward the cart, but it wasn’t there.

He couldn’t see as well with much of the basement lighting knocked out. Slitted pupils needed time to adjust. That cart had the doctor’s bag. He needed that bag. Without it, all of this was pointless. Darius turned away from the vault.

His hand squeezed over the mop handle until claws sliced at the wood. The mop groaned as the flow of water slowed to a trickle. It dripped into the puddles.

“That wasn’t control. Stupid mop! That was the furthest thing from control! Help me find my cart and the holding bag before I snap you for firewood like the hazard you are!”

Lights flickered in the background. White light seen from the upper floors didn’t illuminate the basement below. With so much water, the air became heavy with vapor. A bit of steam formed from the summer heat. Huffing flames through his nostrils wasn’t enough to dry it. Slitted pupils opened widely. They focused to scan the area in front of the vault door.

Pieces of the cart were smashed over the bodies of the two guards in the lower hall. He darted over to the debris, stepped over the bodies, and picked up a steel bucket folded in on itself. He threw it like a shuriken across the hall. It clattered against the wall then splashed in rising water.

The red light of a nearby alarm still twirled even though the unit made no sound. He adjusted his hat to make sure it didn’t slip off. Then he spotted it.

The bag rested within a wall indent firmly enough that he struggled to peel it out. But once out, a quick brushing and shaking confirmed it had survived intact.

“Dry yourself!” Darius held the mop out with a straight arm, “Keep enough to stay comfortable.”

Water rushed out forcefully until the threads were barely damp. A flick of his wrist opened the bag. He lifted the mop and dropped it inside threads first. The bag remained opened as he splashed back into the open vault. He cursed repeatedly as he scooped doubloons into the open bag. He couldn’t find the gold bars, though the specks glinting when he shone his pen light indicated they might now be gold dust.

The rotors of helicopters whirred in the distance. Sirens wailed from the distance.

Darius focused on the gold, silver, and platinum doubloon reserves. Everything he could find in a hurry slid into the open bag. He threw open a few drawers that weren’t stuck to find a small collection of diamonds and gems. He dumped them into the bag and tossed the bins aside.

The piles of paper currencies from various nations had been shredded to nearly nothing, though a few survivors clung to the walls. He picked up the only clean stack of ten thousand doubloon notes and stuffed it into the bag as a memento.

The churning rotors of the helicopter echoed down the water spout hole in the bank. A search light flickered from overhead before shining harshly over a vault cracked like a walnut. Nobody stood amidst the rising water.

The elevator back to the surface was locked and disabled. Darius reached into the doctor’s bag and pulled the mop straight up by the handle.

“No stairs. They don’t have to follow normal building codes. You’re up mop. Shred through these doors, raise the elevator with me inside it to the ground floor. We’ll cut our way out without hurting anyone else, got it?”

The threads went into rising water reaching his ankles.

“No, you don’t get your name back until you shape up. That unnecessary display cost us.”

The mop swirled in the water but nothing happened.

“If they catch us, you’ll be sealed without hope until you fade away. That what you want?”

Within moments the water level dropped to his ankles. He mopped the elevators door clean. The force of the water spraying pushed his boots back. Jets from the sides prevented backsplash.

The elevator doors were so clean, part of them didn’t exist. Sands sunk to the bottom of the pool. Darius stepped in through the gap. He tapped the mop on the floor. The elevator shot up with jittery screeching. Sparks flew through the broken door.

True to command, Zenobia brought him to the first floor. It took him another minute to cut through the seal doors and step into the hall. By now the sound of sirens and helicopter rotors was overwhelming.

“Tshk,” A deep smoky exhale escape tense nostrils, “Only one way out now. You will absolutely not go insane, got it? A little at a time.”

He held the mop like a machine gun while aiming it at the wall. With shifts of his hand, he commanded the water to start and stop. Once the wall crumbled, he confirmed the other side was empty and ran through. His back rolled against the wall once outside the building. The mop tucked against his chest like a loaded gun.

The police were still setting up the perimeter. He relaxed. The mop dropped back into the leather satchel. He wound his way through an alley without finding any barricades and into a gathering crowd. A firetruck whizzed by with a blaring alarm. Helicopters swarmed overhead. He strolled away from the scene.

The sign of the twenty-four-hour parking lot flickered. A slight breeze blew from the ocean. A boxy white pick-up truck waited. Murky water bubbled from the drainage system as he paid the machine to release his vehicle. The bag bounced on the passenger seat. The cap limped over top of it.

“I hate hats. Sorry, but not you. You did a good job.”

Darius shifted out of park and pulled onto the ramp. Something slammed into the back of his truck. Darius jumped against his safety belt. He looked to the right, to the left, and then back through the rear window. Since he saw nothing, he turned left and then turned again at the sign for the road to the factory islands.

His pants dripped over the floor mats.