Guardians of the Edge: Last of the Portal Keys

Chapter Seven : Well Trained

A change of clothes was easy to come by. Though not his typical forte, lifting some jeans and a fresh t-shirt from a chain store was simplicity itself for a thief of his talents. He covered his hair with a tacky tourist ball cap he filched from an unwary street vendor and helped himself to a pair of sunglasses at a drugstore.

His only despair was giving up his jacket of many pockets, but he knew it was for the best. A homeless guy was its happy recipient after Aiden transferred the valuable contents to his new backpack.

Next up was to raid a stash. Grateful for his parent's foresight, Aiden made his way to a small postal outlet on the south side, at the opposite end of the city from the bakery. There were closer caches, but he wanted to be sure Lawrence didn't have his trail. He smiled and waved at the girl behind the counter at the dingy strip mall USPS, moving with precision and casual ease.

If you look like you know what you are doing, Eric said, no one asks questions.

He located the correct key on his small ring. It was a master his father cut which would open any mailbox in the country. He popped open door #321. They always used the same number to avoid mix-ups. It made Aiden nervous at first, but his parents were the most careful people he knew.

Routine can kill you with confidence, Eric said, but not having to think can save your life.

The mailbox was a false address. Inside was a small black bag, similar to a bank deposit sleeve. Aiden slid it into his backpack and relocked the door before smiling his way out onto the sidewalk and down two storefronts to a small coffee shop. Purchasing a snack bought him the right to use the bathroom, a single with a lock on the door. Inside, he unlocked the bag and sifted through the contents.

Five thousand dollars in small bills and three sets of ID tumbled out onto the counter. He sorted the money into five piles and secreted each stack into different pockets. He even slid a couple of hundred into his right sock, just in case. The ID with his face that said he was John Thomas went into his back pocket. He deliberated over Adam and Stephanie Thomas before pocketing them, too.

Aiden felt better equipped with enough money to keep him going for a while and the means to get more if he needed to. On his way out of the coffee shop, he handed his bagged muffin and orange juice to a pair of teenagers begging for money on the corner before hitting the pavement. The sun started to set, casting long shadows down the scruffy street. He caught the first bus without caring about the destination, plugged stolen iPod headphones into his ears for privacy and sat back to think.

Now that he had taken care of the necessities, Aiden was at a loss. All the fear and worry rushed back. He spent a good half hour with his face turned to the glass so other riders couldn't see the emotions he fought to hide with little success.

Finally, he pulled himself together.

No time to wallow, he thought. As far as I know, they are fine but need my help. The question is how do I help them?

He resisted unzipping his backpack to study the prize. He knew it was the key, but he didn't know how or why.

I need to do some research. But first, he had to be sure his parents were gone after all. Despite the risks involved, Aiden decided he had to go home. If Antoinette and Eric were safe and alive, they would be watching the rental house for him. If not, he could at least clear out the last of their stuff, including the larger cache hidden there. There was no way for anyone to know where they had been living, and yet Aiden knew, with everything that happened, the chance he could meet up with Lawrence or Tremaine was very real.

Nothing else has gone right. His grim face reflected back to him from the dirty glass. Why should this be any different?

The moment you give up, Eric said, is the moment you fail.

Aiden gave himself a shake. His father was right. He had to do something, and this made the most sense.

It was getting late by the time he transferred to the bus that would drop him two blocks from home. He got off a stop early and backtracked several streets just in case the bus stop was being watched. Maybe it was paranoid, but he was on his own without the benefit of his usual partners to watch his back, caution was the byword.

Better safe than sorry, Antoinette said. It was an old adage that made Aiden roll his eyes at her. Not this time.

He crouched behind his neighbor's shrubs, out of sight of both houses, and waited for full dark. The dew had settled on the brim of his hat by then and the sky was black, stars hidden by a thick bank of clouds. The neighbors weren't home, their back yard as dark as Aiden's house, giving him perfect cover. He crept around the fringe of the shrubbery until he was level with his own house then hopped the barrier. He was at the back door, key in lock and inside in less than five seconds.

He paused, listening as he eased the door shut. He had to be careful. The last two inches creaked on purpose. But Aiden knew the trick. He lifted the door just slightly by the handle, easing past the squeaky hinge. Another breathless moment of listening passed before he relaxed a little.

The house felt empty.

He padded through the kitchen, sneakers silent on the ceramic tile. He avoided the lights. He knew the dark house and everything in it, thanks to hours spent navigating it blindfolded under his parent's direction.

Something was wrong in the living room. He paused in the doorway. The space felt off. There was enough light coming in from the street he could tell things were out of place. He took a step forward and heard a crunch and a tinkle of broken glass. He froze, swearing silently to himself.

Someone had been there after all.

Aiden made for the stairs when the sound failed to bring anyone running, hurrying this time. It was obvious the Trents had been betrayed, hunted even. He knew it was Tremaine, but certainly didn't put anything past Lawrence. The baker wasn't really their friend, but Aiden had known him most of his life and suffered a short pang of resentment the fat man betrayed them so easily.

He made the second floor and headed straight for his parent's study. He was just easing the door closed when he felt a subtle whoosh of air and heard the soft creak of the back door. Whispered voices echoed to his very sharp ears. With a start, he realized the tone of one was a woman. Antoinette! Aiden almost!almost!forgot his training. The next heartbeat, he knew he was wrong. It couldn't be his mother. Not only had he seen her disappear, but if it was her, he wouldn't know it until she wanted him to.

No, whoever was in the house were strictly amateurs. Still, he had very little time.

Aiden slithered to the back wall of the room and looked up. In the dim light from outside, he found the hidden panel his father installed and slid it back. Behind it was a simple iron ladder, bolted to the original studs. He climbed as footsteps tapped up the stairs outside the door. They were close.

When he reached the ceiling, he pressed another panel. It sprung open. He swung himself up into the attic room above and leaned down to close first the wall panel, hiding the ladder, then used the attached handle to pull the ceiling back.

The study door creaked below him as the latch snicked tight. He held his breath and waited for the second creak as whoever was searching entered the room, stepping on the board three feet inside he knew to avoid. When it came, he grinned in spite of himself.

Definitely amateurs.

"Any luck?" It was a male whisper. He was pretty sure it was Lawrence's man, Tag. The tall, thin man with lank black hair and deep-set eyes always gave Aiden the creeps.

"No," the woman's voice said. "If he's here, you just let him know, you idiot." Her sigh was heavy. No longer whispering, but keeping her voice down, she said, "Go tell the boss you were seeing things."

"I was sure I saw him." Tag's voice was high-pitched, a nasal noise made less appealing because he was whining.

Footsteps retreated from the room as the woman's voice trailed off.

"Explain that to the boss," she said. Then, they were gone.

Aiden's first impulse was to berate himself for being clumsy. For Tag of all people to have spotted him!

What's done is done, Eric said. More important is what to do about it.

Aiden shrugged it off and went back to work.

It took very little time for him to clear the boxes artfully stacked over the floor safe. Even with exaggerated care to be silent, he had access within moments. The code was his actual birthday, again the same they used for every lock like it. He unzipped his backpack and dumped the packet of large bills, the small pouch of diamonds and all the IDs and passports inside. He now had enough wealth on him to keep going forever if he was careful.

The thought crossed his mind, guilt following it. He was sixteen now, old enough to make things work if he had to. Sure, there would be questions, but he could age up an ID of his own and, if he played things right, could set up shop himself.

A contingency plan, his father said, should always be an option.

Aiden shook his head in the dark of the attic, anger tying carefully together with guilt. He would not give up on his parents, despite the fact he knew neither would blame him for moving on. Would likely have told him to do so, were they able. And, though he understood the life of a thief sometimes meant leaving behind the things that mattered most, he refused to do so just yet.

If ever. Stuffing down the whispering in his head, his parents lessons ignored on purpose, he returned to the ceiling hatch and listened, patient. The intruders had retreated to the kitchen and were talking with some heat, voices too muffled for him to make out what they were saying. Someone switched on a light, the glow of it shining in the back yard for a moment before a voice snapped and the light went out. Aiden glanced out the attic window and considered the roof. He had no idea how long they would be in the house and had no desire to find out.

He eased open the hatch and looked down. He slid the panel open with the toe of his sneaker, making short work of the ladder after pushing the attic door closed again. No need in letting them know he had been there after all.

Making sure the wall panel was secure, Aiden went to the door to listen. The voices in the kitchen sounded louder. He knew if he could get across the hall and to his room, he could make it out into the big maple tree and away before they would be the wiser. He decided it was worth the risk, unwilling to play sitting duck. He slid through the study door and into the hall.

The thick carpet muted any sound his already super quiet feet made. He dodged the one creaking board Eric put in at the top of the stairway. An odd tingling sensation ran through his body as he crept down the hall. At the same time, he noticed details becoming sharper, clearer. He could even see his own shadow reflecting on the wall ahead. Aiden froze and turned. He was alone, but the light was still there and it was getting brighter. He kept going despite his confusion and fight with his fear. He took the last few steps to his room at a near run, knowing he was making more noise than he would have liked but needing to figure out what was happening.

The sight of himself in his mirror made him stop and stare in shock. His back was glowing. He shed the backpack and tossed it away from him, onto the bed. The front pocket pulsed with white light, so strong it shone right through the heavy fabric. Aiden drew closer, realizing what it was. He reached out for the zipper of the pocket to free the prize, wondering if his parents were about to reappear.

...hurts...

Aiden started so badly at the sound of the voice he panicked, dropping to the floor to hide. When nothing happened, he peeked up over the edge of the bed at the bag again.

...need to go...

The voice again. So soft, female for sure. But not his mother and not the woman in the house. This voice sounded old, like someone's grandmother. Aiden drew a breath and pushed himself up to his feet.

...we must leave, please...

No. Way. He shook his head, only then understanding the sound, the words. They weren't spoken out loud.

They were in his head.

He was so engrossed in what was happening he failed to hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late.

"Don't touch it," Tremaine said. "Unless you want to join your parents."

Aiden spun to face the man. Tremaine grinned at him, his heavy brows making him look demonic in the glow of the prize.

He had a g*n.

"Where are they?"

Tremaine shrugged. "How should I know?" He seemed to be enjoying himself if the smirk was any indication. "Now, hand over my merchandise like a good boy."

Aiden backed up a step. The g*n snapped at him. The light was dimming again, fading more rapidly than it had come. Unable to spare the time or focus to wonder what was happening, who the old woman was and how she talked in his head, Aiden squinted his eyes to prepare for the returning dark.

"Don't make me kill you," Tremaine said. "Not here, at least. Too messy."

If he gave up the artifact his parents were lost. Aiden had no choice at all.

"Sure," he said. The last of the glow faded as the old woman's voice sighed like she was in pain, leaving them in full darkness. "Let me get it for you." Aiden dodged to the right and ducked at the same time as he rolled back and reached out. His fingers caught the strap of the pack as he bounced from the edge of the bed, a bullet streaking over his head and shattering the lamp, glass shards flying.

Aiden was already on his feet before Tremaine could pull the trigger for the second time. He ducked sideways and allowed the next bullet to shatter the window for him, saving him the trouble of throwing up the sash. Aiden was diving through it while he slid his arms through the straps of the pack, in time to catch the rough bark of the tree limb waiting just below his window. He heard the third bullet but had no idea where it went, too busy swinging to the next branch, releasing his hold as his feet touched another below him.

He hit the ground at full speed, already to the bushes when the kitchen door slammed open.

By the time they rallied to search for him, Aiden was long gone.

***