Chapter 27: CALCULATED ROBBERY

The first out of the four marks is a 19^th century farmhouse situated in the valley beyond The Pinch. The lands surrounding the house are orange tree fields, in their full foliage but bare of any fruit. The trees are painted silver by the moonlight, and the house shines in the middle, as a beacon calling to them, ‘I’m here. Come for me’. 

Noah doesn’t know where Sam’s intel is coming from. Probably the boss he’s killing for, the hand managing Sam’s strings like a puppet. In his mind, he can’t picture Kent—or anyone related to Solace Pharma— ordering the group to steal for them. Why would they do that? If Sam is not related to the conglomerate, maybe Riley’s attack is related to something else beyond her sister’s death.

The white van comes to a halt a few hundred yards before reaching the objective, at the entrance to the gravel trail that cuts across the orange trees in a direct pathway to the farmhouse. The Toyota stops beside the other vehicle, and the group emerges. According to Sam, the security system doesn’t include cameras. However, the four decided to at least bring plain hoodies to cover their faces—Duncan, Eve and Noah discussed the matter, and Rune simply agreed with no word or gesture. Many things can happen in the remainder of the night. Before coming out of the car, Noah checks the time once more. It’s 3 am. 

Noah hears the murmurs of Sam while he walks up to the Toyota’s open trunk. Eve is handing a crowbar to Duncan, who will be in charge of forcing the old lock. Rune takes the shears. Noah just observes them, his sweaty hands inside his hoodie pockets. They work with efficiency, their movements confident and quick, their conversations short and direct. It’s clear they’ve done this before, Noah thinks. He wonders how many times they’ve broken into a place, and what they wanted to accomplish. Was that how they could afford their expensive cars? Noah looks at Rune, wondering what his expressionless face is covering in that brain of his. Did Riley participate in this heists? If that’s so, what was his task?

Finally, they put on cloth masks over the lower half of their face, another measure. Just in case. With Sam present, they have to be careful, walk with eyes on their backs and weapons ready to strike. Noah’s knife is hidden in his sock. Rune had simply put the knife in his lap as they were heading to Duncan’s warehouse after Sam’s text. The knife’s red handle shone under the street lamps, the paint finish not as worn down as Rune’s twin blade. The only difference was the opening mechanism. Noah’s was a switchblade. He had thanked Rune for the gift—Rune hadn’t responded—, silently grateful that he chose a model suitable for his poor mastery of weapons. Now, the coldness of the handle in the warm humidity of summer calms his fluttering heart.

Silas waits on the entrance to the path, keeping lookout, as the group of five stride towards the old house. As they close the distance, Noah can distinguish the white wooden boards with pealing paint, dark spots showing where the white can’t cover the rotting wood underneath. Luckily for them—not so much for the owners—, the weakened material will make entering easier.

While Sam and the couple wait by the main door, Noah and Rune head to the garage. Their opening system is old and manual, in accordance to the outdated place. Noah takes the shears from Rune as the boy kneels facing the lock, twirling his butterfly knife and introducing it in the bolt. Noah observes his expert hands, the tendons building as he forces his way in. Once inside, Noah circles the blanket-covered vehicle, and breaks the security system backup, disconnecting the battery to power out the alarms. Rune is waiting for him outside, his dark eyes darting around Noah’s face.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, although he’s not sure that’s what Rune wants to hear. 

They meet with the other three in the main entrance, and Duncan forces the door. With a loud crack that would probably alert neighbors if they were in a residential area, the door creaks when it opens. The old wood plank hangs lifeless. Noah expected the interior to be restored, because robbing an old uninhabited house is not a great move to earn money. However, his stomach lurches when he steps inside. Dust particles fly in the little moonlight rays that sneak through the dirty windows. The place seems abandoned, and the stairs in front of them seem functional at best.

Noah takes advantage of their rear position to send Rune a glance that shouts with no words. His eyebrows are knitted in a frown, his eyes wider than usual, reacting to the strange feeling deep inside. Familiar, he thinks. 

“We’ll separate to look for valuables.” Sam’s voice echoes in the empty entrance. 

Rune takes Noah’s wrist, guiding him to the stairs. Sam chuckles, climbing beside Noah to the second floor. However, Rune tugs Noah, forcing him to climb one step ahead, and leaving Rune next to Sam. When he turns around, his hands clenching the shears and his heart skipping a beat, Sam’s moon-striken silver features is the first thing he sees. The grin is frozen in his lips, and his gaze is lowered, fixated on something at his chest level. Rune’s hand is resting there, an obstacle that halts Sam’s steps, a prohibition implicit in Rune’s tense muscles. 

“Come on, Sam. Don’t invade their privacy.” Eve’s mocking voice comes from below, breaking the heavy silence. 

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“Okay,” Sam responds after a while, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll come with you, guys.”

“I think the fuck not,” Duncan snaps. “You take the rooms to the right of the stairs, we’ll take the rest.”

“What he means is: nobody wants you.” Eve says, and then she takes Duncan hand to disappear in one of the rooms before Sam can answer back.

Sam takes a final look at Rune, and his wide eyes travel to Noah. “I’ll see you around.” Sam wipes his nose with the back of his hand. 

None of them respond, and Noah doesn’t relax his grip until there’s no sign of Sam in the entrance hall. He winces at the soreness in his injured hand. Rune’s eyes, however, are trained on Noah. It burns, forcing Noah to seek Rune’s eyes with his. For once in many days, the tingles in his abdomen feel good.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Noah whispers, hoping the words can convey the network of doubts that plague his mind like nails digging into flesh. He doesn’t specify more, as doing so would put Noah in a risky situation. Unveiling his questions means finding some answer he won’t like, as well as revealing truths that put him at risk. He can’t forget they want to kill him. Why isn’t that important?

Rune takes a hold of Noah’s wrist, tugging at it as a signal for Noah to follow. He obeys, his hand hanging limp where the pale hand is gripping it. 

A familiar feeling claws at him, drowning him in cold water. He’s walked that path before, he knows. Someone took his hand and lead him up this same stairs. Noah’s hand shoots back, wrenching free from the hold. And the lingering warmth burns with intensity, feeding the fear that hovers in his heart. 

He’s taking the same steps, and he’s afraid they’ll take him to the starting point. To where it all began. Where that is, he doesn’t know. What that’ll mean for him, he’s not sure. He doesn’t remember where he came from, what his end was like. But he’s approaching it. 

Rune’s warm hand slipping in his own brings him back to the farmhouse, the darkness, the rust and old wood. Even if he’s been there before, time has turned this place into something else. Far away, he thinks he can see the illuminated lamp bathing the entrance hall in yellow light, and the banister coated in varnish framing the upholstered steps. It’s not that house anymore. The luxury he barely remembers is just an echo from a long time ago. 

Noah tightens the hand hold, showing Rune he’s here. In this moment. With him. He swallows and, releasing a shaky breath, he climbs the rest of the stairs. 

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