Cold wind bit at his exposed cheeks, the beard he kept for these frigid winters helped. Some. The darkness of winter would be on his side, he thought as he pushed himself further.
65-34-11 he mentally recited.
Adrenalin hadn't kicked in yet. He could feel every bone-chilling movement.
The lonely hunting supply store materialized. No lights. Good. He knew where each camera was placed. Where the safe was.
65-34-11
Pushing himself he urged his burning muscles not to give up. The walk was miserable, the blizzard coming it had to be tonight, he told himself.
His foot prints would soon vanish.
"65-34-11" He whispered under his breath.
Approaching the building from the back he found the window. Removing his gloves and stuffing them in his pocket he dug his fingernails into the worn wood. With a grunt of effort he forced the window open.
As the adrenalin kicked in he pulled himself onto the window sill, knocking the snow from his boots. Settling down on the grimy wood floor he allowed his eyes a moment to adjust.
Sliding his gloves back on he approached the safe in the corner.
Reaching for the dial he heard the calking of a gun.
About the Creator
E. W. Lynn
I love to read and am now beginning to enjoy writing.
I aspire to be a published author, as a hobby. I currently have 4 novel ideas going.
Wish me luck! :)
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