“There’s no other way unless we turn around,” he said. “And we’ve lost a lot of time as it is.”
I bent down and crawled through the fence. My hair got stuck on it, but not bad. I yanked it free.
“You grab it,” said Griffin.
I replaced his foot with my own and his hand with mine, holding it open for him.
He managed to get through without touching the fence at all.
Then he was in front of me again, leading me through the woods.
Within the next few minutes, we could see the lights of the house through the trees. There was a clearing that the house sat in, a yard of about an acre that surrounded it. The land was hilly and rocky.
Griffin crept up to the edge of the woods, kneeling behind a tree trunk. I did the same thing.
All the lights in the house were still on. It had a wraparound porch, and it sat on a garage. We could see that there were still leftover cans of beer and overflowing ashtrays littering the porch from the party.
There was a stack of crumpled cans on top of their grill.
At the other side of the porch, I could see half of their porch swing.
It wasn’t moving.
Everything was still. Quiet.
If it weren’t for all the lights being on, it would seem normal.
But the house was glowing. The indoor lights on, the outdoor lights on, casting a bright yellow circle out onto the lawn.
Griffin swore. “There’s no cover. No way to get up there without being seen.”
I couldn’t believe that they’d gone to sleep. Not with all those lights on.
But if they were awake, then why weren’t they making any noise? It was so quiet out here, we would hear the murmur of conversation if anyone was talking.
“Do you know where their breaker box is?” Griffin asked me.
“I think in the garage,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. He pointed. “We’re going to walk around the house, down the hill, to the left. Stay out of sight, stay back, stay quiet. Keep your gun out. Take the safety off. You understand?”
I nodded.
Griffin went first.
I followed him, gingerly picking my way through the underbrush.
He seemed to be going more slowly too. It was important that they didn’t hear us.
When we were right across from the door to the garage, Griffin halted. He pointed to a tree trunk. “Squat down right there,” he whispered.
I did.
“I’m going into the garage, and I’m turning off the lights. When you see the lights go out, you run for the door. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said. Suddenly, I felt very cold. It was as if I hadn’t noticed the chilly night air before. But my voice shook when I spoke, and I realized that I was shivering. The air was pressing in on me, like cold water.
“Safety off?”
I nodded.
Griffin planted a quick kiss on my forehead. “Hold it together for me, doll.” And then he was gone, darting across the lawn so quickly I barely saw him move.
I waited.
How long would it take for him to find the breaker box and turn the lights out?
I heard the sound of a car on the road, in the distance.
A car? This late? Was it Op Wraith, returning to see if we’d shown up?
I saw the headlights then. They cut into the woods, illuminating me where I hid behind the tree trunk.
I scrambled the other way, so that the trunk blocked me from the road.
But now I was close enough that the lights from the house illuminated me.
I clung to the tree, going motionless. I would play dead, like a small, wild animal. They wouldn’t see me if I didn’t move.
The car roared down the road, and I heard a snatch of Beatles music floating to me where I crouched.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
And the lights went out.
I jumped, startled. I’d nearly forgotten I was waiting for it. I ran for the door into the garage. But it was pitch black, and I’d been recently blinded by car headlights. I couldn’t see where I was going.
I thudded into the outside wall of the house and began feeling for the door.