The laughter was loud, chattering filling the air. Beer was consumed by a case every night. Card games and singing and instruments played loudly. They had been in the apartment for eleven days now, and every night is the same. They play loud, get drunk, plot new schemes, have sex, eat Twinkies. Which Clyde and Buck had discovered on one of their regular little store robberies.
Clyde sits in an armchair in the corner, Bonnie's long legs across his lap. He sits cleaning his automatic rifle when it suddenly goes off with a loud bang, that almost shakes the entire apartment. The room goes silent, everybody's attention going to Clyde. He's definitely had a lot to drink. Bonnie is startled, breathing heavily when she realizes she hasn't been shot. And when realization sets in that Clyde had accidentally set off the rifle and that everybody was okay, laughter ensued.
Less than an hour later, there is a knock on the door. Everybody is still. Their suspicious behavior has drawn the police into checking out the apartment. Clyde and Buck share glance together, looking to William who also nods, the three men grabbing their firearms whilst Bonnie and Blanche both take cover. They know this is going to get ugly.
Clyde keeps a strong grip on the shotgun in his hand, having it hidden from view as he slowly opens the tall red door. He was cautious and weary, but he wouldn't shoot without cause. Two officers stood by the door, trying to peak around Clyde and into the apartment. They don't seem to recognize Clyde, and he's able to talk his way out of the suspicions.
It's late the next evening, Blanche looks down at her watch, seeing the time is exactly five past four. She takes off the watch and puts it in the cabinet as she stands in the kitchen. Bonnie is sprawled out on the living room floor, writing her poetry and complaining of not feeling well. She asks Blanche to make her a boiled egg and Blanche complies. She puts the thin deck of cards down, pausing her game of solitaire to cook the boiled egg.
She can see straight out of the kitchen window, watching as her husband, Buck washes the car. Clyde and William were soon returning from the latest robbery in the Ford Roadster. They are having troubles with the vehicle and so they have come back to get the other car. Parking the Roadster, the men step out and start to transfer all of the guns, ammo and other belongings to the opposite car. The sound of an engine causes their attention and they find a car has parked in front of the garage doors, blocking them in. The men act quickly and a spray of bullets are sent firing from both Clyde and William, and both Sheriff Harryman and Officer McGinnis. Buck runs for the doorway that leads inside, getting hit with a bullet just as he makes it inside. He groans out, grabbing his side and running up the stairs. "Blanche! Bonnie!" He get's the girls, leading them downstairs. The gun fire is short lived and so are the officers, their lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground.
Bonnie flees into the garage first, searching for Clyde, finding him holding his chest. She runs to him, checking him over and kissing his face. "Snowball!" Blanche chases after the small white dog who flees in fright, running down the driveway. "Get in the car!" Buck shouts to her as he and Clyde and push the officer's car out of the way, to allow them to be able to drive out of the garage and make their escape.
Before they can push the car far, another round of bullets are fired at them, but they manage to flee back to the car without injury. Blanche freezes in her spot, her feet glued to the ground, her eyes wide, like a deer in the headlight. There is no way she can make it to the car without getting shot dead. She's breathing heavily, her mind racing. And then something kicks in and she runs. She turns and she runs as fast as her legs would take her, in the opposite direction, down the street. She's screaming, the whiz of bullets flying past her. Miraculously she is not hit.
It sounds like machine guns being fired continuously. Clyde slams his foot down on the gas, making his way down the road. The car slows just enough to pull Blanche in, before going away again at high speed. In the back of the car, William is groaning and holding his side, covered in blood. "Help me, please, I'm gonna die. I'm dying." The sixteen year old is practically begging and clearly very frightened and in a lot of pain. The pain is like nothing he's experienced before. He's been shot in the side, the bullet getting him between the ribs on his right side.
They drive as fast as they can, they need to get as far away as possible. If they can cross state lines by morning, they think they should be fine for a while. They drive all night. It's cold and raining and they have left the majority of their belonging back in the apartment in Joplin. They have no clothes but the clothes on their backs. They drive until they get to a tourist camp in Shamrock, Texas, staying the night. They cut their bullets out with razor blades and dressed the wounds, bathing and counting their lucky stars that they had survived another night, another shoot out.
Clyde sits in the large tub of warm water, Bonnie perched on the edge of the tub, her feet dipped in the water. She has already bathed and now she's helping him to dress his wound. She's gentle, but expert at removing the bullet. It's not the first and she's sure it won't be the last bullet she must dig from his body.
They all know the inevitable. There was no way out now. No matter what, the law would always be after them and the only way out was death.