Death Is the Wage of Sin

The Wages Of Sin

"Clyde, where's W.D.?" I asked my sweetheart, my partner in crime. "Don't know, babe. Probably spendin' time with his folks before the laws finally get their hands on us." He told me in his beautifully smooth voice. I looked out the window of our newest stolent car. We'd been doin' this for nearly two years I'd guess ya could say; robbin' banks, runnin' from the laws, a death or too. The end was comin' for us; it wouldn't be long now. My poor Ma, and Clyde.

At least we knew it was comin.

"Hey, isn't that W.D.'s pop's truck on the side of the road?" Clyde said, pointin' to the tan truck. It was his. Wonder why it's there like that..."Yea, it is. Pull ova, see what's up." I said. Clyde stopped the car and we both got up, walking towards the tan truck. All of a sudden, we both heard it; that disgustingly familiar voice.

"Fire at will!!"

And they shot at us. They'd been hidin' behind the bushes on the other side of the road. The truck was set here as a trap - W.D. could stand knowin he was done for! "Bonnie, get back to the car - fast!" Clyde yelled. We ran for it; we'd already been hit, but, maybe, we could still get out. He got back in the driver's seat and tried to take off, but it was no use. They'd shot the tires out by now, there were holes in the doors, the windsheilds; and in Clyde and myself. "I love ya, Clyde! This is it!" I said, not as loudly as I thought I wouldave. "I love ya too, Bon." He said. Then the only thing that could be heard were gun shots. One hundred-sixty gun shots to finally end a man who wanted to get back at the laws for takin' our money, and a woman who loved him more then anything.

We never stood a chance against them.