by C. L. Stone
I couldn’t make out the paths he was talking about. After a few years of wandering around in the woods, I had a strangely acute sense of direction. I checked with my instincts and pointed with my hand. “That’s south.”
“How do you know? It’s dark.”
“I just ... I know.” I said. And I did. I had a crazy knack of always being able to feel directions. Right now, part of it was the moon, but the moon shifts slightly depending on the season, so using it like using the sun to determine direction wasn’t going to work. Still, I was pretty sure where south was. “That’s east. If the house we were at was west, it’s back that way.”
His hands tightened at my thighs. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I pointed again. “So that’s south.”
Luke turned left and right again, unsure. He leaned south and started ambling down the path I couldn’t see.
A few minutes later, the path opened up and we were at the base of a large oak tree, while in front of us was the rear of a large house, not quite as big as Victor’s, but to me, it was huge. The lights were off, except for one on the second floor to the left. The backyard had a low stone wall that went up to Luke’s thighs. He stopped short of the wall.
“From this point on, we both have to be quiet,” he said. He let go of my legs so I could slide down him onto the grass. He turned around. “If you need to say something, sign it to me.” He reached into his front pocket and held out a black object. “Take this.”
I felt in his hand and found a flip cell phone. “I thought we weren’t allowed?”
“It isn’t on and I’ve never used it. It’s for emergencies only. If something happens to me, I want you to run for the woods and call Mr. Blackbourne. His is the only number in there and it’s his emergency line. Try to make it back to the house if you can.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Sang.” His palms found my cheeks again and he drew close enough that his breath fell on my face. “We’ll be fine. This is just an extra precaution. I need you here with me. Can you do this?”
I wasn’t sure, but if I started asking too many questions now, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Analyzing, for me, led to second-guessing. I was better just diving in headfirst. Worry about it later. I nodded. “I can go.”
His lips turned up. He slid his fingers over until he covered my mouth and kissed the back of his fingers like he was kissing me. He let go of my cheek, drew my hand up and kissed the palm. “I want you to stay behind me, okay? Be my little shadow.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I tucked the phone into the cup of my cami top.
Luke hovered a finger over his lips once, reminding me to be quiet. He crept down against the low garden wall and started skulking toward the house. I sucked in some courage and followed.
The yard was big, but mostly empty. There was a pool, but Luke made a wide space around it and instead focused on a low section of the house that I guessed to be the garage. It didn’t have any windows, and the roof was closer to the ground.
Luke made it to the side of the garage and tucked behind the wall. When I crouched next to him, he indicated he wanted to boost me up. He lowered himself, interlaced his hands together. I slipped my foot into his palms and he lifted me until I could grab the edge of the wall. I pulled myself up onto the low roof.
Before I managed to roll myself up and over completely, Luke backed away from the wall. I stopped to watch. He dashed forward at speed, jumped until his foot met the wall, and used the momentum to launch himself and catch the edge of the garage roof. He pressed his feet to the wall to kick himself up until he was kneeling on the roof.
I panted as I climbed up to my knees. I needed to remind him later to teach me that trick.
He caught my hand and helped me until I was standing and guided me over the roof. The gnarly bits of roofing tile scratched against my feet. I couldn’t believe I was doing this barefoot, but maybe it was better. In bare feet, I was much quieter. I had a better grip with my feet against the roof that I would if I had been wearing shoes.
He went slow this time, edging his foot out to take a step, displacing his weight carefully before settling. At first I wondered why, but I followed his rhythm. I had to assume he didn’t want to risk anyone hearing us, even if we were over the garage.
Ahead of us was the second floor wall, and the roof above our heads. He again indicated to me that he was going to boost me up. Like before, he made sure I was up before he climbed. This time instead of taking a running jump, he caught the low edge of the roof on the corner and hauled himself up.
When we got to the second floor, my knees wanted to tremble. I wasn’t used to being so high up. I wasn’t afraid of heights; it was just so dark that I wasn’t positive of my footing, and that made me nervous.
He headed toward the front of the house. The front yard had a thin concrete path, with little garden lights down it, illuminating in a low light. The front porch light wasn’t on, but the moonlight was bright enough that I could see some sort of fountain in the middle of the yard. There were three cars in the drive in front of the garage. Someone was most certainly home. I stiffened at this. Half of me had assumed no one was home and we were just being careful about things. He was going to risk entering a house with people inside?
Luke pointed to the front of the house and then pointed down. I didn’t understand what he was doing. He pushed his hand into mine and started signing.
“Will hold your legs. Open the window.”
My heart now roared to life in my ears. What did he mean exactly by holding my legs? How did he know if the window was unlocked? Why was I doing this?
I caught myself before I started whispering questions. I didn’t want to sign them all. I had a feeling it wouldn’t have mattered. We’d gotten this far and there was something inside we were fetching. Asking how and why wasn’t going to work. I had to trust him for now.
Was this what the masked man had meant when he said they wanted to use someone like me?
Luke motioned for me to get onto my stomach on the edge of the roof. This was disorienting in the darkness. I felt like I was going to slide forward. Luke got down with me. He started nudging me toward the edge.
It took a lot of swallowing back my heart, sucking in some faux courage and three countdowns of “three-two-one-go” for me to find the ability to start crawling forward. Luke held on to my waist and when I was halfway dangling over the edge, he locked his arms onto my calves. He nudged and I dangled over upside down.
I caught the edge of the phone as it slipped out of my top. My breasts were about to spill out, too. I stuck the phone between my teeth and focused on the window.
It was dark inside, but I could make out something like a window seat just inside. Upside down, the blood was filling my head quickly. I pressed my fingers against the wood of the window frame and started pushing up at the edges.
The window eased up quietly. I managed to get the window up but once I did, I was suddenly very nervous. How was I going to get in? Luke needed to let go of me if I was going to get in there. I really didn’t want him to let go.
Luke seemed to have thought of this. He pushed himself forward, and unhooked my calves. This gave me enough room for me to swing forward and grip the windowsill. As I’d thought, there was a window seat. I twisted, swung and gripped at the edge, hanging on until I could drag myself in far enough that I was stable. I wasn’t sure how he’d know when to let go, so I lightly kicked at him.
He placed three fingers at my calf, dropped two against it, dropped one, a count down. At zero he let go, and I swung myself into the room.
I overestimated and started to teeter off the window seat, but caught myself before I touched the floor. I got up and fixed my top, tucking the phone back into place. I knee-walked out of the way of the window, and stilled, afraid to go any further without Luke.
Luke appeared a moment later. I didn’t see how he managed to get in, but was glad he was there. His hand found mine and h
e squeezed it, silently re-promising everything was going to be okay.
He sat on the bench, and started unlacing his shoes. He set them aside on the window seat and stepped away toward the door. I followed, placing my feet where he did, readjusting my weight slowly each turn to keep the creaking to a minimum.
Even with my heart pounding away, my senses fine-tuned to my surroundings. I was hearing every little thing. I listened for movement, for sounds of the house. Was that a whisper? A creak?
The room we were was a bedroom, but no one was asleep in the bed. The air was stale, and I assumed it was a guest bedroom. Luke padded his way over to the door. He held the handle twisted again and stepped aside, ushering me through.
I eased my way out into the hallway, again listening for any noise. We were on the furthest edge of an upstairs hallway. There was a barrier against the ledge overlooking the stairs that lead into the main part of the house. The light I’d seen earlier from outside filtered into the hallway from a bathroom. There were two more rooms on the left and another one at the furthest end of the hall before the stairs.
Luke left the door open a crack behind us. He found my hand and signed. “Go downstairs.”
Well, if we were going down stairs, why did we climb all the way up here? I swallowed back a moan.
Luke led the way, creeping along the floor. We were at the top of the stairs and Luke was taking a step down when I heard the first creak.
I froze. Luke paused, stiffened and signed into my hand. “What?”
I held my breath and listened: another creak and I was sure. “Footsteps,” I signed back. The movement was behind one of the other closed doors. Soft, slow.
Luke circled an arm around my waist, and for a moment I was hovering in the air as he picked me up. My legs caught around his body, and I clung to him like a monkey to a stick. He planted me against the wall and out of sight of the upstairs hallway. He pressed against me, as if trying to shield me from anyone who might walk down the stairs.
The air pressure changed, and I was sure a door opened somewhere upstairs. I held my breath to listen closely. More footsteps, another shutting and the light that had once illuminated the space diminished. The bathroom door had closed.
That didn’t sound like an adult. The footsteps were soft. Either the people here were small or there were kids in the house. What exactly are we taking? There are kids here! I didn’t know why it mattered, but knowing this, I was even more scared we’d get caught. It would creep out the poor kid.
Luke didn’t move but he was tense. I felt his chest against mine, his breathing controlled and steady. His fingers found my hand again. “If there’s a flush, get downstairs quickly.”
He was crazy!
A distinct start of a flushing toilet sounded and Luke nudged me hard on the shoulder to get me going. I started to creep but Luke nudged me again. Don’t stop.
I still went quietly, but moved faster. When I hit the first floor, Luke swept behind me and took the lead again down another hallway. This time he rushed forward, without stopping.
Further down the hallway, and out of sight of the stairwell, we both stopped, tucking back into the wall. The dim light returned over our heads. There were footsteps. The toilet gurgled, finishing up. Silence settled around us.
Luke waited only a moment before he padded quietly forward. I followed until he stopped in front of a door at the end. He positioned his hand on the handle, turned back to me and pointed to the wall, gesturing he wanted me to get back.
I pressed my back against the wall, my shoulder hitting a picture frame. I eased away to avoid knocking it off. Pictures on the wall:a family home. I pushed those thoughts back, stuffing them into a corner of my brain. I needed to be here with Luke. I needed to trust.
Luke twisted the handle. The door opened silently for a moment, but halfway through, the door gave a creak. Luke stopped, letting go of the handle, and stepped back against the wall.
We both waited. I listened, especially toward the bedrooms upstairs for noise. I swallowed, trying to get my heart to still so I could hear better.
Luke turned to me, pressing his hand to mine. He started signing. “I can’t fit through the door. Can you slip in?”
I checked the opening. If I sucked in, I could get in without touching the door. I nodded.
He shortened the sign language as he went, telling me only the important things. I figured he wanted to hurry. “Office. There’s desk and bookshelf. Desk has a locked drawer on left. Key is on highest shelf all the way to the left.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Camera.”
“What kind?”
“Like your cell phone. Small.”
I let out a slow breath. I couldn’t believe where I was. In that moment, the craziest thought about my toes with pink flowers and neon green leaves, and my fingers being painted in four different colors came to me. If we got caught, I was going to jail with weird fingernails.
I changed position with Luke, and passed the cell phone to him to hold. I wanted him to be able to run and call if there was an emergency.
I went to the door, pushed my back against the frame, and then stood on my tiptoes, sucked in my stomach. The edge of the frame raked my back. As I eased in, I earned a scratch on my side from a jagged corner on the metal plate the lock latched on to. Inside, I stopped, getting my bearings in the dark. There was the outline of a desk near the wall and a tall bookshelf to the left. There was a potted plant near the window. Why didn’t we come in through that window?
I moved slowly now, pretty sure I was under the bedroom at the very top of the stairs.
The smell of dirt, leather, books and a thick, heavily spiced cologne lingered in the air. With the moonlight filtering in through the window, I could tell the desk was spotless. It held a perfectly aligned inbox tray with a couple of files in it, a computer monitor, a pencil cup and a couple of assorted desk knickknacks. Perfectly placed at right angles.
The bookshelf was tall. I almost had to go into en pointe on my toes like a ballerina, and from there I leapt soundlessly, brushed my palm across the shelf above my head just to feel for the location, and landed back on the wood floor. A second leap up, and I had the key.
I crept over to the desk. This was it. I was about to steal someone’s camera. Mr. Blackbourne had warned me to stay out of trouble, and now I was neck deep in something. He’d have a fit.
Volto’s warning about how they used kids to get what they wanted kept edging into my thoughts.
I shook the thoughts from my head again. It was harder than I thought to stop them. I blamed the silence and how slowly I had to move. It gave me time to think. I sucked in another breath, holding myself together.
The wide desk had two drawers on the left- hand side. I tried the top one: it opened easily. I stopped, slid it closed. What he wanted was locked.
I tried the other drawer, but it wouldn’t budge. My fingers found the keyhole and I slid the key into the lock and turned it. The lock unlatched with a gentle click.
I tugged gently. The drawer slid out, but before I could get it open enough that I could slip my hand inside, it started to stutter as wood rubbed against itself.
Loudly.
I stopped, listening and waiting. When I didn’t hear a reaction upstairs, I slipped the key between my lips so I wouldn’t lose it, and placed both hands under the drawer. I lifted it carefully out, making no sound.
When I looked inside, I frowned. I couldn’t see anything; the drawer was deep and it was too dark. I didn’t want to reach a hand in and knock something over. I crept back to the door. Luke was there. He reached a hand out.
I signed into it. “Need light.”
Luke slipped his hand back and returned it in a matter of seconds. He passed over something small, and I realized it was a button light.
I padded back to the desk, waiting until the light was inside the shelter of the open drawer before clicking it. A soft green glow lit up the area.
Inside was nothing but a big black box. It took me a moment to realize it was a desk safe. I studied the unit. Did he expect me to lift this out? It was bigger than a camera. Was I supposed to open it?
I held the light closer, studying the surface. There was a sticker on the left. The edges of it was a little curled up as the glue had become undone, so the safe was old and had been there for a while. The sticker read biometric safe.
I glanced at the center console again, recognizing a place to put a finger. It required the right fingerprint.
I backed away, leaving the drawer open and slipped back to the door.
Luke stretched a hand to me. I started signing. “Can’t do it. Fingerprint safe.”
Luke’s hand retracted again. This time he held out his hand and stuck something like a plastic Easter egg into my palm. He started signing against my hand, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying with the egg in my hand so I switched it over to free it up.
“Say again?” I signed.
“Open the egg. Put plastic around your finger. Press your finger to the touch pad.”
How was that going to work? I worried there might be an alarm on the safe. What if I made a mistake and it blew up in my hands or something? I don’t know how I managed to get through this so far. My heart was constantly in my ears beating against the drums until I felt almost deaf. My nerves were alive and I felt every change in the air. I was beyond terrified and the only way I was holding myself together, was knowing if I fell apart now, I would never get out of here.
Luke grasped my hand, squeezing it, as if sensing my nerves. Slowly, he drew it up, and he kissed my palm. Silent promises. Trust. That was what I needed now.
He squeezed my fingers firmly: I had to hurry.
I pulled away from him, stepping toward the desk. Kneeling in front of the open drawer, I opened the egg, using the light to check the inside.
The egg held a thin putty, almost like a very soft gummy bear. I placed my forefinger inside, and the material molded around my finger. To keep it on, I had to hold the edges together, so I had to use both hands to do this. I put the button light down on top of the safe, aiming it at the scanner.