World in Tatters Ch. 25

Rachel and I quickly make our way through the crowded streets. I’ll give Chris this, his memory is pretty sharp. After about half-an-hour at our swift pace, we come in front of a chain-link fence about eight feet high. We should be at the main gate soon.

Rachel and I couldn’t really talk much on our walk. Even if we’d tried, the noise of the bustling city would have drowned anything we had to say. It’s all the same, after what I overheard last night, I don’t really know what to say. I don’t know if I should even bring it up. I mean, I did invade their privacy by listening in. It may not be such a good idea to tell her about that.

But on the other hand, I can’t just ignore it. Rachel is going through something. Something that will probably affect her for a long time. I’m her brother, I feel like I should at least talk to her. I just don’t know how to bring it up.

At any rate, now probably isn’t the time.

Up ahead, I see a guard shack. The little yellow building sits in stark contrast to the red-brown rust of the gate mechanism behind it. Just inside the fence, a large hedge blocks the view into the neighborhood. The only glimpse is what we can see through the open gateway. As we get closer, I can see two guards milling around the shack.

The first is a portly bald man sitting inside out of the sun. The other, a slender woman with short black hair, paces nearby, vigilantly watching as horse-drawn carts full of supply deliveries roll in and out. Neither of the guards stop the carts. There’s no search or seizure, just a watchful eye.

I pull Rachel off to the side as we pass the shack. Speaking closely into her ear, “I see two guards, but they don’t seem to be stopping anyone from going in.”

“Three.”

“What?”

“Three guards.”

“Where? I only see two. The guy in the shack and the woman by the gate. Where’s the third?”

“Across the street. Over there.” I look over, and where she’s pointing, sure enough, there’s another uniformed security guard waiting in line at a vendor’s cart.

“How did you…?”

Punching my arm, “Because I’m better at this than you.”

“Yeah, yeah. You wish. You’re just lucky this time.”

“Believe what you want.”

“I think we should go in separately. Easier to blend with the deliveries that way.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in there.”

“Rach, wai…” Before I could stop her, Rachel walks off into the crowd.

She’s smart about it, sneaking around to the other side of the gate, slipping behind one of the larger carts before heading past the gate. Gotta admit, it was pretty smooth. I watch her as she looks back over her shoulder at me flicking her tongue out to gloat.

“What a pain.” I roll my eyes before heading to meet back up with her.

With my size, I doubt I can pull off the same slick maneuver as Rachel. She’s short enough to use the carts as cover, but I stand a bit taller than most of them. Much more easily noticed. Even if the guards aren’t stopping incoming guests, I’d rather not be noticed. Time for a distraction.

Looking around on the ground, I find a couple of stones the size of my thumb. I sweep down, pick up two of them, and take position close to the gateway. I pick my target, an angry looking middle-aged man waiting in line at the food cart. I surreptitiously wind up and lob the first stone at the grump. It hits him square on the shoulder, but he just swats at it without a second thought. I launch the second stone a little harder than the first, hitting the man in the back of the neck.

This time, the man does not react well. The sourpuss rounds on the man in line behind him, grabbing at his collar. The loud argument that ensues draws attention from the guards as well as many passersby. Even the portly man in the guard shack looks up right as Mr. Grouchy throws a punch at the man behind him. The second guy takes the hit on the chin, sprawling to the ground.

“Ooh…” The grounded man jumps back up, tackling the first man around the waist. I have to pull myself away from watching the carnage I created. While entertaining, I have other things that require my attention.

Using the guards’ preoccupation as cover, I slip behind one of the carts and through the gate. Just as I think I’ve made through it free and clear, I feel a hand grip my arm.

“Hey, Jackass.”

I turn around only to find the female guard glaring in my face. “I’m sorry…Um…Is there a problem?”

“I’d say so. I saw you start that fight.”

I glance around, briefly locking eyes with Rachel waiting just down the street. Even from here, I can see the self-satisfied smirk. Turning back to the guard, “There must be some kind of mistake. I was nowhere near them.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that why I saw you throwing rocks from across the street?”

Doing my best impression of one of the many brats I’m sure live in this suburb, “Me? Throwing rocks? Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Let me see your hands. Hold them up.” I reluctantly raise my hands, turning my muddy palms up to her. “Well, Mister Innocent, how’d your hands get all muddy, unless you were playing in the dirt?”

Keeping up the spoiled routine, “Well, I do like to get a little dirty, on occasion.”

The lady guard rolls her eyes, “Haha. What’s your business here in Beaumont Heights?”

“Just here to visit a friend. Is that a crime?”

“Whatever. Get out of here. Just…don’t pull any more of that crap. Makes my job harder.”

Laying it on thick, “Oh. Of course. Yes, Ma’am.”

With another eye roll, she walks away. A few yards away, I hear her say, “They don’t pay me enough for this.”

I can’t help but smile as I turn back toward the road to Rachel. I will admit, the distraction may not have gone entirely according to plan, but it worked out. I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it from Rachel, though.

“Nice, uh…diversion there, brother.” You could cut her snark with a knife. “You sure you want to stop there? Maybe go punch a guard? They’ll be real distracted when they’re arresting you.”

“Oh, shut up, Squirt.”

Rachel tucks her shoulder and playfully rams into my side, not quite hard enough to hurt. I briefly wrap my arm around her before nudging her away.

It’s not often Rachel and I get to just hang out. For years now, it’s always been the three of us: Rachel, me, and Jason. And as much as I consider Jason to be family, it’s really nice to hang out with my little sister. Even if we’re only here to recon a target.

Chris didn’t do this neighborhood justice when he described it. The homes here are all massive, two-story structures. At least compared to what I’m used to seeing. This must be where most of the government officials live. I doubt the Consul lives here though. From what we’ve seen so far, security here is total crap. I don’t think they’d leave their glorious leader so exposed.

On top of all that, this place is a maze. The way Chris described it, I was expecting a straight shot back to the Luther mansion, but it’s more like a twisted grid of identical-looking streets. After about the fifth dead end cul-de-sac, we finally reach the far end of the suburb.

Just like on Chris’ map, a massive, dense hedge runs off to either side of a large gate. The intricate metalwork twists around itself, looping to form iron vines complete with thorns and black roses. To either side of the gothic nightmare stand two pillars of alabaster colored stone glaring in the morning sun.

My opinion of this Luther character was already pretty low, but this takes the cake. I mean, I get that he’s some high advisor to the Consul and therefore pretty rich, but this kind of elaborate ironwork does not come cheap. What kind of human garbage do you have to be to flaunt this level of wealth while half of your countrymen barely get by, and another quarter starve? It’s truly despicable.

Luckily, at least for now, there aren’t any guards in sight. Rachel and I make a pass by the gaudy gate, trying to get a peek into the grounds. Set about fifty yards behind the gate stands the infamous Luther mansion, the Victorian edifice looming high over the property.

Triangular eaves drape gracefully down from the third floor. A brick chimney rises from one side while a circular turret juts out from the other. Intricate trim-work traces around the façade, hanging over the raised porch with a handrail to match.

It’s honestly stunning. Ominous, threatening, and extremely pretentious, but beautiful in its own right.

At first glance, it appears as though the property is empty, but it’s hard to tell just by passing the gate. The only other thing I could discern is a side shack. Probably just a carriage house, but it might be a good place to watch the house from. If we can get there undetected.

Tapping Rachel on the arm, “Hey, did you get a good look at the house?”

“Oh, yeah. That place is huge!”

“Yeah, it is. But, honestly, I’m more interested in the little building off to the side. It’s close enough to the hedge wall that I think we can get in there without being seen.”

“Seen? Seen by who? I didn’t see anyone in there. No movement whatsoever.”

“Yeah. I noticed that too, but better safe than sorry. We’ll get into the shack and watch the house from there. Hopefully, we can chill there until after dark. Or until the Luther’s show up.”

“Okay. Then let’s circle back, find a way through the hedge.”

There aren’t a lot of people in the area, so without worrying too much about them noticing our sudden about-face, Rachel and I head toward the corner of the Luther’s hedge fence. There’re a few feet between the hedge and a chain link fence surrounding the neighborhood. With a last look to make sure we’re unnoticed, we sneak off into the shadows between them. As we get closer to the carriage house, we start looking for breaks in the dense hedge wall.

Unfortunately, the best we find is a child-sized opening at the base. Rachel should be able to push through it just fine, but I would have a much harder time if I tried. I pull out my knife and start to cut away at some of thinner branches.

Once I’m satisfied with the new width of the breach, “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Scared to go first?”

“Just go. Head straight to the carriage house and get out of sight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

I take a couple steps back to give Rachel some room. She lies on the ground and crawls through the gap. I stoop down and watch her hop up and dash across the yard, taking refuge against the back wall of the carriage house. The hole is still a little small for my broad shoulders. This isn’t going to be pleasant.

I lie down in the mulch, feeling the splinters dig into my torso through my shirt. I basically slither through the narrow opening in the hedge. I push through, hearing branches crack and snap as they snag on my hair and clothing. Once I’m through and brush myself off, I run over to where Rachel is waiting.

Pulling my bag off my back, “I don’t think we should go in unarmed.”

Pulling her handgun from behind her back, “Way ahead of you, bro. Why do you think I brought this?”

“Oh, good, you brought your own. Guess we’ll have an extra.”

“Did you think I’d forget? Do you think I’m dumb?”

“’Course not. I brought a spare in case you thought we didn’t need it.”

“We’re in enemy territory. Why would I think that?”

“Point taken. Just looking out for you.”

“Mhm.” Rachel rolls her eyes at me. Clearly I’ve struck a nerve, because this wasn’t her normal, sarcastic eye roll. I think she’s actually upset with me, but now isn’t the time to push the issue. “Let’s just go.”

“Uh…yeah, okay…” Drawing my own weapon, “Let’s swing around back. Maybe there’s a side door.”

“I’ll lead the way!”

Before I could even try to stop her, Rachel rushes around the corner. As quickly as I can, I throw my bag back over my back and run after her.