He comes belting outta the shop like a man possessed, damn near topples over when he makes a sharp turn down the alleyway next to it. There’s only a little time before someone comes looking for him, ‘cos he’s sure there’s more’n just the clerk working there.
And he was in a good enough mood, so he hit him with the butt of his pistol, knocked him out cold. Grabbed the cash and ran off after that. Though he really shoulda got some food, since he’s gonna have to lay low for the next few days until there’s not so much of a commotion going on.
Small towns like these, a robbery’s big news.
He really needs to get the hell outta Dodge, but that’s a mite too hard. There aren’t any trains nearby and coppers’ll be too hot on his heels for him to hitchhike outta the town. Means he’ll have to settle for finding somewhere to hole up for a little while.
That is, so long as he doesn’t end up in a fucking jail cell, considering the fact that he just barrelled into a fella coming down the street.
The two of ’em go toppling over and he makes the most of it, pinning the man’s hands above his head while he’s still caught off guard. Pulls his pistol out of his shoulder holster, too, digging it into the soft skin under the man’s chin so as to keep it steady.
‘Cept he’s about the same age as Jackrabbit, so he’s really more of a boy than a man, after all.
“Y-you,” he stammers, “You’re the one… the one that–“
“Think real hard on what you’re ’boutta say, ‘cos I’m not above shootin’ you dead.”
“I–Well, uh, take me with you. Please.“
Jackrabbit’s jaw goes slack for a second or two, then, he shakes his head to get his thoughts back in order and presses the barrel of his pistol just a little harder into the guy’s skin, “Can you drive?”
“Sure thing.”
“Then get us outta here.”
“I don’t have a car. My family does, but they’re an awful ways away, my father just dropped me here while he went on ahead to the next town over and–“
“S’all right,” Jackrabbit pulls his pistol back, tucks it real careful-like into his shoulder holster, “I’ll get us a car, you just got to drive us.”
“Why can’t you drive, then? Since you don’t need me to get a vehicle.”
A flush creeps up over Jackrabbit’s face, crawlin’ right up to his ears. He doesn’t much want to say that he can’t drive on account of how bad he shakes, can’t do much of anything which is how he ended up stickin’ up jewelry stores instead of doin’ anything worthwhile.
“Never you mind that,” Rabbit jabs his finger against the fella’s chest, “Now keep an eye out while I get a car runnin’ for us.”
The two of ’em must be real lucky, since nobody’s noticed the commotion. He rolls off of the fella and gets to his feet nice’n’slowly, so as not to lose his balance. Figures he oughta help up the guy who’s gonna get him outta here, so he holds out his hand, hopes his getaway driver doesn’t say anything about how bad he trembles.
The fella’s hand is warm when he up and grabs Jackrabbit’s. And he’s smart, doesn’t say anything even when Jackrabbit struggles a mite to pull him to his feet.
Then, Rabbit sidles up to one of the cars parked along the street, real easy, like he’s not doin’ anything wrong at all. Pulls out one of his knives, so as to jimmie the door open.
He’s learned a lotta things from watchin’. There wasn’t much else for him to do for a long while there and all of his brothers ‘n’ sisters did an awful lot when he couldn’t do much at all. Sometimes, he’d get to sit out on the porch ‘n’ watch his oldest brother, Davie, help fix up Poppa’s old car, get it runnin’ alright. Wasn’t too hard to figure out from there how to get a car to start without a key.
And soon enough, he gets the engine started, slides over to the passenger seat, so the new fella can drive for them.
“I’m Marion, by the way,” the fella says, settlin’ in behind the wheel.
“Jackrabbit.”
Marion nods, gives a little smile, “Jackrabbit, huh? Where do you want to go, Jackrabbit?”
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Carry On, Kid! 