Cul de sac, p.7
Cul-De-Sac, page 7
Nodding, Jacob headed to the garage, taking his lunch, notepad and new booklet with him. Then he loaded the trailer, which was still attached to the tractor, since it was stored that way, and headed to blue first, just in case he wasn’t welcome in green yet.
It was strange, but each of the houses with long grass had left the sheets out, with the word yes checked off. One of those was clearly a spot of blood, which was both gross and effective, if you didn’t have a pen or pencil handy, but it meant he was able to work on three of the places and hit the lawn of the guard who lived there, just to keep things tidy for them. It was a bit of work, for the other places, but he was still heading over to green about three hours later.
That cul-de-sac actually looked good.
There were several cars, which were more like electric golf carts, marked with the word security on the side, in front of one of the places, but the lawns were all tidy, with only seven really needing any care at all. He parked the trailer in front of that, and unloaded, then ate lunch, quickly, since he was hungry. There was no yelling or anything, so he got to work, only to find four people coming out, as he finished the back yard, and was dumping the modest amount of grass into the bin at the front of the black metal trailer.
Two of the carts drove off, but Ken and Calley both walked over. Seeming official. Like cops. At least until they got closer to him, and both bothered to smile.
Ken waved, even.
“There he is. Everything going all right?”
“Hi! Yeah. I passed the test for hazardous disposal?” That was for Calley, who was looking at the booklet he had with him, on the tractor seat, at the moment. Under his notepad, but clearly not the same color as the other one. “Mick did the test for that. I’ll try to have this in by tomorrow, too. I was going to head to the garage and then read this and go over everything there, for practice? No one is home until eight and I don’t have a key yet, so one of you gets to take time from your day to let me in.” That or he could wait until later.
Only, eight was a little close to when he was supposed to be inside, so taking chances that way wasn’t the best plan. Even if it wasn’t that dangerous, and they just didn’t want kids out after dark there. The kid. At least he hadn’t seen anyone else his age or younger there yet. Just his neighbor as far as anyone even being close.
Ken nodded.
“Let us know when you’re ready? Oh, can you also touch up around the Guard Shack? The perimeter outside the wall too. The city is supposed to handle that, but they don’t really come out here, most of the time, and it’s getting overgrown.”
There were a few more lawns to get to, on the inside of the wall, but it was kind of clear to him that he wasn’t going to be hitting seventy-four places there, on the regular. Most of the people he’d left the fliers for had been marking no, so far. They had things in hand, too, really. He needed to check on that, for the other areas, but so far, he wasn’t going to be that busy, even doing the various lawns once a week or so.
Plus, the places were mainly postage stamps, so the actual mowing took about fifteen minutes, if he did a careful job of it. At least after the brush clearing that was needed for the first part. So, thinking of all that, he nodded.
“I’ll hit the Guard Shack now. That won’t take long. Oh, I need to review some things for gold one? The water system and electric lines in the back yard. I don’t know how to do that.”
The dark skin man gave him a nod. One that seemed oddly official, for some reason.
“I’ll pull those for you. Check with the front desk, later. I’ll leave them there. For now, you seem set. Get with one of us if you run out of things to do? We can always expand your job, if you get bored.”
For some reason the man thought that was funny, or at least was turning away to hide his smile over it. Then he and Calley both walked away, having real lives and work to see to.
Then, he had some things to do, as well, so got to that.
It wasn’t hard, but it beat the heck sitting in a dark room, waiting. Really, he’d had enough of that for a lifetime, if anyone ever bothered to ask.
Chapter five
The workbook for engine maintenance wasn’t hard at all. Most of the afternoon was spent going over all the equipment in the garage area, checking oil and fuel levels, of which exactly four things needed to be topped off. Even then, he was being picky with the whole idea. That meant he did a lot of cleaning of gear. Then just to see what would be needed, it only being about five in the afternoon, he walked to the front gate, wondering if they’d actually let him outside the wall.
The man inside smiled at him.
“Going out?”
Jacob nodded.
“Perimeter check.” Before he could explain the idea, that he was checking for weeds, the man ducked down and got a large black, handheld radio and passed it over.
“Channel seven. Turn that in when you come back. Notify us if you find anything odd. People watching or cameras being set up. We have them, but if they’re facing the wall, even if they’re ours, that puts us on alert status. Call it in first, of course.”
Jacob nodded. There had been talk of a radio, on the first day. Channel seven, as well. Looking down, it was clearly already set for that.
“Got it. I’m mainly checking to see what kind of landscaping will be needed, but I’ll let you know if I find anything weird?”
There was an efficient seeming look then, and some information entered into the computer, for some reason.
“Do it. Radio silence otherwise and if you see anything... you know, different, be vague about it, when you call in? We can’t really scramble the signal here, so euphemisms and all that. Unusual camera set up, unidentified person, and all that?”
Getting the idea, he nodded. He could pretend not to see bigfoot, if it was required of him. That would be, he guessed, a large person in a fur coat.
The little gate, which was just a bar, about four feet long, that he could have easily ducked under, rose for him. It was painted in red and white stripes, so seemed festive and official, at the same time. Once outside, realizing he might be free, other than the obvious tracking device on the radio, he turned left.
There was a sidewalk, with grass on either side, and when he rounded the corner, after several minutes of walking, limping a bit, he found a badly overgrown area, with some branches that overhung a walking path. That was well enough trod that bare earth showed in places along it. Doing the whole thing was going to take a few days, he realized. Then, even he got that Ken had probably just meant he should catch the little strips along the front, which wouldn’t take even an hour to tend to. There were some trees there as well, in the front. Decorative things, which probably needed to be pruned, eventually.
A thing he had no clue how to do at all. It had something to do with large shears or loppers.
Which could be looked up, if he was ever allowed access to a computer again. Still, some dedicated work with a weed-wacker and maybe the brush hog would probably be a good starting place for most of the outer wall area.
As he walked, he did notice that a person, one who looked like they were made of cellophane, was climbing over the wall. That was eight feet high and whoever was doing it struggled a bit. This was on the back side, as well. Between the obvious cameras.
Feeling like he was doing it wrong, Jake got on the radio.
“We have someone going over the wall, on the back side of Terrace Springs.” He didn’t add over or anything, since that probably wasn’t needed. He let the button go, in case anyone answered, or wanted him to shut up.
A moment later, a voice came back. It sounded like Mick, but he could be wrong on that, he realized.
“Description?”
He froze then.
“Um... Very good camouflage. No other description possible at this time.”
“Understood. Keep the line clear and observe for any other traffic. We’re sending backup.”
That sounded a bit over the top, to him, but he held his ground, moving back against the wall, in case a speeding golf cart came up behind him. Which didn’t happen, getting jogging people on foot, instead. That took a few minutes, but they realized he was there, almost instantly. They were, interestingly, new people to him.
Which had one of them going for his side arm, as they got there. Instead of acting half panicked at the sight of the gun, he pointed at the wall, in the right area.
“They went over at that spot. A translucent person. They struggled with the wall, so probably no super strength, but I can’t guarantee that.”
That helpful information, apparently, as well as holding the official team Terrace Springs radio, meant he didn’t get tackled it seemed. Not shot, either. Both people fanned out, searching the ground, which had the red headed woman pointing at the grass.
“Here, there’s a trail. No footprints. It’s been too dry for that. At this point, on the other side... Should be lavender one. Harlo isn’t invisible. Call this in. In case it’s an attack. Let me check...” That was done by the woman hopping to the top of the wall, landing on it, balanced perfectly. Eight feet up, touching lightly on the balls of her feet.
Then she yelled.
“Stop right there! We’ve got him!” She jumped down, which had the man, who looked like a regular person, scrambling over the wall as well, running up it in a way that seemed fit, but not like he had superpowers.
Lacking that kind of thing for himself, Jacob decided to hold back and contemplated running away, back to safety. He couldn’t tell what was happening on the other side of the solid white stone wall, but it sounded kind of anxiety producing. There was no shooting, but people were being hit, calling out and telling other people to stop.
Which, given the sound of things, wasn’t working at all. After about fifteen seconds, there was the sound of scrambling and a half visible person climbing over the wall. It was a new look, showing an arm and a leg and a blurry patch in the middle that hadn’t been there before.
Jake sighed.
“Great. Well, at least you aren’t on fire, that’s nice of you.” Dropping the radio, on the grass, he darted in. Knowing that he was going to be beaten, at the very least.
If two people, one whom looked like he ate linebackers for lunch and who had nearly drawn down on a skinny little kid and a woman who had real powers couldn’t stop the man, then he wasn’t doing it. Still, he noticed that his stupid body was moving anyway, flying at the half visible man, who looked like two arms and a leg in black, now, as whatever he was wearing failed.
On the good side, the tackle hit him in the back, so the man actually fell down. Trying to run, or rather crawl away, instead of beating him, so far. Meaning the man was wrapped up, from behind, with Jake going for a naked rear choke hold. He even managed to lock it off, by feel, and wrap his legs around the man, crossing them, as the man stood up, as if he wasn’t even there and started to jog off. It wasn’t great technique, on the legs, but the man was carrying him and doing anything else meant falling off.
Ignoring him, totally.
“Seriously? You aren’t even going to slam me to the ground or use some kind of sweet martial arts trick? Just jog off, like I’m not even here? This is... Really rude. You know that, right? I am not feeling properly valued right now.”
In response, the man went sideways, falling to the ground. Rolling halfway onto his side. That hurt, where his legs were crossed, but the guy stopped moving about then. Jake didn’t let go, not certain what was happening, until he was tapped on the shoulder, after about half a minute.
By the big guy. The guard. The woman was standing back, her gun out, talking on the radio.
“We have one. A bogey. Tech camo.”
The large man did something by his leg, then patted Jake again, on the shoulder.
“Let go in... Three, two... now. Move to your right. Be ready to grab again.”
He was, for all the good that was going to do. After a second, or two the man called out.
“He’s cuffed. Help me move him back to the path.” The man, clearly getting that he wasn’t talking to his partner of the day or one of the official people there, helpfully explained how to do that. “Grab under his arm, by the pit. That and the belt, since he has one. If he starts to fight, we drop him on his face and push on the head. He’s a scrappy one. Probably special forces.”
The woman grunted, still standing back. Ready to shoot.
“Don’t assume. Stay ready. Daniel, if he starts to do anything strange, stand back and shoot. In that case, you’ll need to move back, too, sir. Until then, stay in a control position.”
The man woke up and did fight, but that, apparently, wasn’t going to count as odd enough to start killing the guy. It did get him hit in the head, by the big guy. Daniel. After a few of those didn’t work, Jake growled at the man.
“Stop that now, or I’ll have to crush your skull. I know you won’t feel it until you go down for the count, like before, but it won’t be survivable. Show you understand by going still.”
The man did, for some reason. Then it was a good line. One that he’d seen in a movie, with a bit of paraphrasing, of course. The part about him not feeling it. No one commented on it, but the woman standing back fought a smile, clearly getting that he was lying his behind off. Still, it worked, so that had to count.
Five minutes later, driving this time, eight more people showed up, which was most of the force there, he thought. There were fourteen houses marked something seven, at least. White had the cool number, marking them as double-oh-seven, of course. The rest were just colors and a number. Not that there couldn’t be people who worked there and didn’t have a place inside. Jake hadn’t asked about that, yet.
Then, he didn’t plan on doing that at all.
It wasn’t his business. He was just the kid with a borrowed lawnmower.
The others took over, and if anyone thought it looked weird, him being there, no one commented on it. At least not until the man was on the cart, in the back, with his camo turned off, and partially removed. Under that he was hard looking, but he also, wisely, refused to speak. That was one thing he’d learned in the last months. The cops weren’t there to help you. They were there to accuse you of things and arrest you. Even if you were innocent.
His lawyer, Marian Hobbs had told him that. Chastising him for having spoken to them when they’d gotten to the house, after his parents had died. This man was, clearly, smarter than he was, and wasn’t even giving his name or admitting to even speaking English. As they all walked back, except the people on the cart, which wasn’t moving well, in the tall grass, Ken looked over at him.
“What were you doing back here?”
“Planning out how to clean up the perimeter. It’s going to be a few days of work. I need to cut some of the branches back, off the trail, as well. I’ll do the front area tomorrow, then work this at the end of the day, between the other places? Oh, wait... My radio.”
That was still in the same place, thankfully, since he didn’t make enough to pay for that kind of thing if he lost it. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he jogged back to the others, who were waiting for him, for some reason. He held up what he had, not wanting to be shot.
Mick saw it and nodded.
“Did you lose your pad, or the workbook?”
“Nope, those are in the garage. Um, do I need to prioritize the area back here?”
The man who had given him the test shook his head.
“No, probably not. Your plan sounds good for that. If that changes, we’ll let you know, first thing. This kind of thing happens. Not often, but people sneak in occasionally. Normally kids, and people looking to steal. They tend not to wear five-million-dollar Speznatz camo armor, of course. Then, Speznatz doesn’t either, most of the time. It’s going to be a long night, finding out what this guy was doing in there. Hopefully no one is dead or missing.”
Everyone nodded at that, so he did too. That would be a bit more real than he liked. The whole thing was, but so far, he was only shaking a little. In reaction to the excitement, not fear. Clearly, he was too stupid for that kind of common-sense reaction.
No one got after him for grabbing the guy, though. Which, he didn’t understand the reason for until they were back in the Guard Shack, waiting on an official pick-up team, for the man. That meant they were all standing there, with their hands on their side arms, if they weren’t holding rifles.
Jake was sat at the testing table, so took the time to recover his workbook and go over it again. Since he had it down, and Calley was at the front desk, he took the test for it. Acing it again. Then, because he wasn’t leaving, not on his own, not being able to get into the house, he did the next one, and took the test, inside an hour.
That was on water treatment. Then he did first aid and food handling, which were both harder, but not too big of a deal. At nine, Laura walked in, seeming concerned, but she was also there with twenty other people. Mainly men, in military uniforms. She was still dressed up, but the rest were in fatigues.
“We’re here for the prisoner. Code Alpha, seven, nine, three.” She looked at Calley, who nodded, after punching that into the computer behind the desk.
“That checks. Back this way. One male, six-six, two hundred and forty pounds. Possible augments, but we aren’t clear on what they are. He gave our people some trouble, at first.”
The men and women all moved toward the back, led there by Mick, and came out with Daniel and the red-haired woman, who was named Faraday. She had the man, who was white and hard faced, by the cuffs.
“He’s refusing to say anything. Not even that he understands us. That means well trained.”
Faraday laughed then.
“He understands. When Jake told him to behave or have his skull crushed, he fell in line fast enough. Then, anyone would have. No one sane goes up against the kid.”
The woman wasn’t even fighting laughter over her words, as funny as they were. For his part, focused on working as he had been, he just nodded.
