Page 134 of Shrapnel

Easy enough. Owen swallowed and tried to contain his nerves long enough for Noah to park. Unlike Owen’s original plan, Noah parked on the West side of White Sand Mesa. Hidden in the shadow cast by the big wall, Noah turned in his seat.

“There’s razor wire on the top, but that’s not the biggest issue.”

“Seems like a pretty big issue…” Owen mumbled.

“The biggest issue will be getting caught. I have no idea what the state of the house is in. It probably isn’t empty, but more than likely most of the guards will have abandoned their posts in favor of a safer place to hold up until this all blows over.”

“What should I do if I get caught?”

Noah paused. “Don’t.” then he got out of the truck, pulling the bag with him.

“You can’t just—Noah!” Owen had to crawl over to his side of the truck to get out. Noah parked close enough so that he could use the truck as a step to get over the massive wall.

Noah dragged out a massive piece of fabric. It was heavy dark leather on one side and on the other was cowhide.

“Wasn’t that a rug in Wallace’s office?”

“He’ll never notice.”

Forget surviving White Sand Mesa, he wasn’t going to survive going back to the Weavers.

Noah tossed it up and over the wall, covering the thick coils of razor wire. It wouldn’t be easy, but the leather would keep Owen from being completely shredded. Shouldering the grappling hook, he climbed up onto the roof of the rusted Bronco with the Stun Baton in his big hoodie pocket.

“I’ll be waiting for you here,” Noah told him from where he was standing beside the truck. “Be fast.”

Blowing out a breath, Owen tossed the hook over the wall. It was only about five feet above where he was standing, but it looked daunting for someone with virtually no upper body strength. It took him three tries of kicking and hauling before he made it to the top of the wall. Leaning against the leather, he discovered pretty quickly that Wallace’s hideous southern chic rugwas notadvisable for climbing over razor wire. The wire sliced through his jeans, and he had to resist the urge not to jump back.

Metaphorically nutting up, he closed his eyes and tried to remember that Jamie did this kind of stuff all the time. He was a badass. And he liked Owen. He could do this. Jamie would be impressed. Maybe his eyes would do that glimmer thing they did when Owen took his shirt off. He liked that.

Rolling over the wire, he tried not to cry out when it cut him several more times. On the other side, he tugged the grappling hook free and tossed it back down to Noah, holding onto the end of the rope. Noah attached it to the Bronco’s chassis. All he had to do was repel down.

Repel. Fall. Same difference.

Owen dusted himself off, breathing quickly. His ankle throbbed and the Stun Baton had fallen out his pocket. How was he even supposed to carry this thing? He patted his pockets before deciding it would stick out. Finally, he slipped it into his jeans and down his thigh. It made walking awkward, but Owen wasn’t winning any cool points anytime soon.

Doing a little jog/limp thing, he made it through the garden. Completely transfixed on the garage. He didn’t see anyone. He was choosing to believe that was fortuitous and not at all suspicious.

The garage was massive. Like, four of Owen’s apartments massive. When Noah said go to the farthest bay on the left, he assumed there were like…two. But there were six. Who even needed that much garage space? Owen tabled that thought and moved over to the left.

“With your knees,” he mumbled as he yanked the aluminum door up. It rumbled loudly but Owen was able to get it up enough to slide under.

He didn’t know anything about cars, but Owen suspected the cars lined up on the polished floor was easily worth more than his life. Several times over. Was this the kind of money the gangs had? He was so going to make Jamie buy him more than one computer.

Noah said the toolbox would be on the East wall. Owen had to do a quicknever eat soggy waffles mantrato figure out which direction was East. Sneakers squeaking across the floor, he limped to the big red toolbox. It was shiny and looked like it hadn’t been touched recently.

It moved easily on greased wheels, rolling away from the wall. The trap door had a ring in it and Owen reached for it just as he heard a shout.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Every muscle in Owen’s body froze. His mouth was dry, and he was pretty sure his heart was having an infarction. Standing stiffly, he turned to face the Mesa. He was holding a gun, but it wasn’t pointed at Owen. Held loosely in his hands his eyes were hard and suspicious.

“What…what am I doing?”

Great question,Owen thought as he struggled for a cover story. That’s what he should have asked Noah! Wow, he was bad at this.

Struggling, he wondered what would Jamie do.

Oh god, he knew exactly what Jamie would do.