Hostage

“Member of staff to till number 2, please.”

She was in the queue at till number 2. What was happening? She craned her neck to see beyond the man in front of her.

“No barcode on this tin,” said the assistant by way of explanation.

She picked up her three items from the belt, thinking it would be quicker to go to another till.

“What are you doing?” asked a security guard who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

“I was just…”

“No, you don’t understand how it works,” he said.  “You chose this till and you must stick to it.”

All the other queues diminished until there was only the one at till number 2 remaining.

The missing barcode still hadn’t been found.

“They’re looking it up on the computer,” muttered the assistant.

The shop’s lights dimmed. It was closing time.

She decided she didn’t need what she had intended to purchase that badly and headed for the exit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked the security guard.  “Get back in line.”

He said it with such menace that she did as she was told.

Darkness fell and they waited. The security guard stared at the queuing customers who all wanted to leave but daren’t.

After two hours she made a run for it. The guard rugby tackled her as she reached the door.

“Nobody leaves until the barcode is found,” he hissed and dragged her back to her place in the line. He drew a gun from the waistband of his trousers.
It would be a long night.