Silver Silhouette
By Rodzil LaBraun
© 2015 Rodzil LaBraun
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contact author with questions: [email protected].
Book cover design by Kristin Bryant
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
About the Author
Prologue
Pam sat down at the dining room table with her cup of tea. The saucer wobbled as she placed it before her. Nerves. Fear and regret were creeping into her mind despite her constant guarding. No good would come from regret. What's done is done. But fear, that could be useful, or crippling.
Pam was very afraid of what might soon happen to her only daughter. The girl knew too little at this point. That had to change. Her ignorance of the true world nearly got her killed last night. The unanswered question remained. Was she the target of the attack? Surely those beasts could have ripped her to shreds if that were the case. If she was not the target, did the attackers at least know who she was?
That boy was there, of course. No doubt he knew what was going on, but did nothing to alert Pam's daughter. She didn't know how to feel about that. Secrecy was the foremost priority for Kamilians. Their very survival depended on it. In the end, she could not blame him for keeping that secret.
Sipping the hot tea Pam waited for her daughter to come downstairs. She had already slept longer than expected. The urge to tell her everything was overwhelming. The girl would soon know regardless. Unfortunately, it was not Pam's call. Her husband insisted that he conducted a controlled revelation. It was protocol and he intended to stick to it whenever possible. He viewed the girl more like a chess piece than his daughter. The queen, perhaps. But he would use her as bait if he felt it benefited his cause.
The thought occurred to her finally that her daughter might be bait right now. Those disgusting animals could be lurking in the overgrowth at the edge of the backyard just waiting for their opportunity. Were they both currently at risk? Why had Charlie not provided a guard for inside the house? Pam rose from the chair to glance at the street out front between the curtains. The company car was parked across the street with two agents in the front seat. That was protocol as well. It would probably be best if she just let her husband do his job as he saw fit. In time she would make big changes. But now was not the time.
Creaking floor boards on the stairs alerted Pam to her daughter's arrival. Her job now would be to stall until Charlie arrived. He should be there any minute. She was grateful that her daughter would at least have some answers before leaving the house again. Hopefully enough to help her survive. But the adjustment period could be lengthy. She had after all lost a friend in the attack.
1 - Return to Darkness
The night was relatively quiet, Stan thought. Despite the neighborhood consisting of large houses full of children, on quarter acre lots, there was very little sound other than the chirping and clicking of the non- threatening critters of the night. He could remember trying to read a book recently in the privacy of his backyard patio, but struggled to concentrate on the subject matter due to the neighborhood clatter. It was even possible to hear toilets flush from the adjacent homes. Nearly a million dollars for some of these buildings, and yet an expected level of privacy was unattainable.
But now, the night was silent, as if he willed it so. He slowly locked and shut the back door of his home before turning to see his wife Vicki staring at him with sad, defeated eyes. The sadness he understood. But the defeat belonged solely to himself, and Stan felt a resentment toward his mate for trying to share it. She always supported him, but his failure could not be blamed on her in the least. Depression crept up before he could shut it down. He forced a weak smile for her benefit, one she could not return, then proceeded with the plan.
They had known this day was coming for a while now. At least in the back of their minds. But plans were not made until just a few days ago, allowing just enough time to finalize the important details. Stan motioned for Vicki to follow as he crouched down and moved along the shadows by the house. It felt silly to sneak around in one's own yard. Ridiculous even. But avoiding the view of the neighbors seemed like a good idea. Anything that could add time to the escape was worth doing. He convinced himself of it once again as he stepped behind a pear tree and into the mulch. The sidewalk meandered into the light that shone from the Walker's driveway next door. It came on at sunset and went back off at sunrise, not motion sensitive like his own. He had the foresight of removing the bulb in his yard lamp this afternoon to avoid detection.
A quick glance back revealed Vicki falling behind, gazing at the multitude of shrubs and flowers she had planted over the last few years. She took such pride in her home and garden that he paused until she realized he was waiting for her. Her sorrowful expression deepened to near the point of tears. Stan squeezed her hand in understanding when she caught up, then guided her through the rest of the landscaping staying in cover. The Lexus sedan and Range Rover sat statuesque in the driveway. They would not be missed much. The material things did not pull the strings of the heart. Friends, family, their lives were what they would miss. Though unable to accomplish their ideals, they had worked so hard to achieve so much before giving up. "Giving up," Stan muttered to himself. The realization that defeat was not reversible at this point. That was the crushing blow.
Stan quickened their pace until they came across an elderly lady in the alleyway walking her dog. The little pup sniffed in their direction twice, growling afterward. Since they were not visible to the woman she assumed the dog had spotted a squirrel and tugged on his leash until he subsided. Vicki selected all of their clothing for this night, after her husband told her of the need to stay invisible. Clad in all flat black attire so as not to reflect any light at all, only their pinkish faces would draw attention. Black hoodies covered their upper bodies, and long sweatpants the bottom. Black leather gloves and knee socks complimented, along with black leather sneakers. The shoes were the most difficult to find, without any color or reflective striping. Both sweatshirt and pants were oversized and baggy.
Waiting for the right moment Stan signaled his wife to be ready. "Now," he whispered, and they bolted across the alley and into the neighborhood park. It was a common space, really, surrounded mostl
y by the back yards of his neighbors. Aside from some under mulched paths and a couple old park benches, the area was natural. Almost overgrown. There were no public lights in the park, so staying to the center kept them unnoticeable, avoiding the illumination provided by scattered porch and flood lights of the neighbors. At the far end of the woods they crossed a two lane road that was void of traffic. In the morning it would be crowded with commuters looking to bypass the busy highways. But at this hour it was vacant.
The two of them sprinted across and over the short stone wall into the deeper woods beyond. This patch of vegetation would conceal them from civilization for more than two miles. Stan gave a two whistle signal and quickened his pace. Vicki had no trouble keeping up. Dodging trees, roots, and ravines they ran speedily in the dark as if they were raised there.
Stan allowed his mind to wander back a couple weeks to his last staff meeting. His company was quite small, and the staff were all like close friends to him. He had expected anger and frustration from his employees, and had mentally prepared to defend his position. Instead, he was faced with unanimous sadness. They had trusted him, supported him, all the way to the end. Why did they not feel betrayed by his failure? It was the last day of work for many of them, and they hugged him and his wife as they left. Those remaining knew they had only a few days left, even though he had lied and said he hoped to keep them all for as long as he could. They understood somehow, and in a way, he was glad they did. The feeling that he was abandoning them was lessened a bit. But he was still hurting inside. His pride was crushed. His wife, his family, his people, had all counted on him. And he let them down.
Movement to his left caught his eye. Vicki had caught up and was running beside him. He must have slowed while distracted. Stan gathered his emotions back up, like trash off the floor, and pushed them out of sight and mind. He needed to focus on the task at hand.
The woods ended abruptly as they approached a neatly groomed neighborhood. Stan slid to a stop just before the clearing and grabbed his wife arm to keep her hidden as well. But she slipped and her legs left the shadows momentarily, her sneakers striking a low wooden fence with a soft thud. She yelped as he pulled her back to safety. More than a dozen bats were disturbed in the process and flew from the trees screeching as they went. Instinctively, they both dove for the ground and covered their heads. Memories from another world, another time. Slowly they peeked out into the small community that Stan knew was part of Herndon Virginia. They waited for several minutes, in case someone or their dog wanted to check out the disturbance they made. But at this hour no one was roused.
Squinting at the map Stan pulled from his pocket, using only moonlight, he picked out the targeted home. Gesturing to his accomplice they moved along the edge of the woods until they reached the corner of the desired property. He wanted to wait for a while, study the nearby homes for lights and movement. But he knew time was limited. Some of those slumbering would soon be rising to get ready for work. He guided his wife again, staying in the shadows. The selected home was darker than most around it. His research indicated that the residents did not have any pets, nor did their next door neighbors. At least not any dogs or birds. They did not want to alert anyone to their presence.
Stan stopped along the wall of the home to snip some wires, carefully rerouting the security alarm cable. He had only recently become familiar with how to do it. Nervous that he may have missed something he gritted his teeth as he listened for any indicators that the residents were alerted. Vicki tugged his arm, impatient with their exposure to the street out front just as the headlights of a car quickly passed over them. They hurriedly made their way to the basement door in the back. The light bulb above the door was dark, probably burnt out some time ago and never replaced. Stan shimmied the door open with a minimum amount of noise.
The two of them slowly crossed the tile basement floor toward the steps when one of their sneakers squeaked. It was Vicki's left shoe. "Take it off," Stan mouthed the words, but it was too dark for her to see him. He pulled her close and whispered the instructions in her ear. Vicki reached down with one hand, balancing herself as best she could, and removed the shoe. When she sat it back down on the floor Stan grew impatient and whispered harshly, "you'll have to carry it!" She nodded as she picked it back up and followed her husband up the steps.
Silently the two shadowy figures made their way around the first floor of the quiet home. There were no people on this level, as he had predicted. The next set of stairs would require more care. One creak and the owners could be awakened. Stan motioned for his wife to imitate his method as placed one foot on the bottom step, all the way to the side by the railing. He then followed with his other foot on the next step, all the way to the other side by the wall. Continuing the pattern he reached the top without any noise. Vicki followed the same way. They were then confronted with three doors, all closed. Stan noticed that the door to the right was a few inches narrower. That must be the bathroom. He got down on all fours to distribute his weight and crawled toward the door directly before him. The knob made a scratchy noise as he turned it.
Inside there were two twin beds with white dressers to match. A lamp shone faintly in the corner revealing both beds occupied by young girls with blonde hair. There was no need to disturb them, so he shut the door without entering. Stan pointed at the remaining door, his wife replying with a nod. It was then that he noticed how nervous she looked. He should have taken the time to prepare her better, he realized. It was too late now. They had to keep on silently, so he reached out and squeezed her hand gently. Vicki whimpered causing him to squeeze more firmly, hoping to silence her.
"I don't want to do it, Stan," she whispered through tears. "I can't do it."
He crawled closer and put his arms around her. "You can do it," he replied, more firmly than he had intended. "We are almost done. No one will get hurt."
She shook her head while still in his embrace. "That's not true," she answered.
Stan pulled back and gave her a commanding look, one that he tried his best to reserve for only when it was desperately needed. "You know what I mean. Now, stay quiet and follow through, or we'll both end up in jail. Pull yourself together. We are almost done."
Vicki nodded, but continued to cry and shake. "I can't do this without you. You know that," he said firmly. His fear of being overheard was diminished by the threat of Vicki bailing on him. He knew what to say, but hated himself for saying it anyway. He even had to choke the words out. "Don't let me down, sweetheart." How could he expect her to continue to support him after the way he had let her down. She was leaving behind a life that she loved, and home she had cared for diligently. And it was all because of him. It was at that moment that he knew that he was an asshole. Perhaps she would be better off without him. But, even then, they would need to get out of this predicament first. He vowed to himself to apologize later, and maybe even encourage her to leave him, once he got her to safety. He did not have time to wonder if he would follow through.
Vicki took in a deep breath and wiped her eyes. Her unending desire to support her husband was her downfall. She could have gone off on her own and let him deal with his own problems. But that was not her way. Guilt washed over her face as she said, "I'm sorry. I'm okay now."
"Thank you," Stan answered, sincerely. He wanted to say more, much more. But this was not the time or place. Stan reached up and turned the knob on the remaining door. The frame creaked slightly as he pushed the door open enough to crawl through. Once inside they both took notice of where the valuables were; wallet, handbag, keys. They would have to search for the rest, as quickly as possible, without waking the children. He dreaded the thought of those innocent little girls waking up, knowing full well what he would have to do to them if they did.
Opening the man's wallet revealed his driver's license foremost. His name was Henry Stone, but Stan already knew that. And his wife's name was Jill. He didn't remember the girls' names, but that didn't matter. There were a few credit
cards and some cash in there as well. He placed the whole wallet in his pocket without searching it any further.
Stan and Vicki then stood up at the bottom of the bed, and changed places. He moved to the side of the sleeping husband as she went to the wife. One last glance at each other, then they pounced in unison, each diving for the throat of their victim. Their screams were muffled by hands to their mouths, each with a small cloth. Within seconds both went limp in their beds, not quite in the same positions in which they were sleeping.
They did it. There was no turning back now.
2 – Decisions
The night sky was absolutely beautiful, Tish thought. As she gently swung and twisted in her childhood swing, gazing above at what may have been millions of stars. It appeared as though they all came out to twinkle for her enjoyment. As the evenings were getting cooler with autumn approaching, it seemed to have a direct effect on the clarity above. Only occasionally would a small puff of cloud drift by, as if it were a strewn cotton ball released into weightlessness, attempting to steal the attention that rightfully belonged to galaxy's light show. The scene might encourage many to wonder about the vastness of the galaxy, or the origin of mankind. But tonight, Tish had only her impending decision on her mind. What was she going to do with her life?
As a seventeen year old girl in northern Virginia, sure she should be contemplating her next step in her future. There were many opportunities before her in one of the most thriving areas in the country. But this was also a time for having fun before adulthood sets in with a heavy thump. She felt robbed somehow. None of her friends were near as stressed about turning eighteen as she was. But then, they were not faced with "the big decision". As her parents had explained many times, "our people have a very important custom. On your eighteenth birthday you declare your decision. Then, your life has a more singular focus."
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