The Return To The Bank

     We got to the bank late at night, and entered in through the back entrance. Allen tapped the Fibonacci sequence on the button, and we waited for a long time. A really long time. But nothing else happened. He shouted for someone to let him in, and when he got no response, he headed for the front door. When we got there, we realized that the chain had been cut. We pushed the door open, and were shocked by what was there before us. The entire place was empty. Cables had been torn from walls, papers were scattered across the floor. Everything was a mess. There was blood spattered on one wall, with a dent in the drywall next to it. The entire place had been raided. The vault had been blasted open, and the inside of it was empty except for a cheap metal bookshelf, laying on its side.
     Allen was Devastated. I was, too, of course, but I didn't know these people. Allen had friends here, friends who were at best all arrested, and at worst, friends who nobody would ever see again. He wandered through the ruins of the bank, and wiped dust off of a table. This had happened a long time ago, but it didn't matter to him. What mattered is that it happened at all. We gathered at much of the paper as we could, in the hopes that we could find something useful,  and then we left, before someone showed up for us. We found a small hotel, and Allen brought me some food. He didn't eat, he just drank a small bottle of vodka and put himself to sleep. He shook all night.
     The next morning, we dug through the papers, looking for something that might tell us where everyone had been taken, or even how to contact someone. All Allen wanted to do was find Silas, who he was sure hadn't been at the bank. He thought that Mike might have been there, in Chicago, when the raid happened. Allen kept pausing and staring at nothing while we looked though the papers  It was like he was trying to remember something that he never knew to begin with. We found a phone number, and Allen called it from a phone outside the hotel. It went to voicemail. Allen came back to the room slumped over. It was amazing the toll that this had taken on him, but it was more amazing that he was still standing. A lot of people think he may have been falling apart mentally, like he was going insane, but I think he was stronger than that. I think that he was exhausted, and he was overburdened with worry. The more he found out about this whole thing, the more he knew he had to protect people. He had a lot of protective instincts, but having to protect so many people was too much. He'd never admit it, though, he'd just press on.