Chapter Forty-Five - Dangerous
"Uh, this feels dangerous," Sharp said as she looked upon the labour of our work.
We had to pick up a few essentials and bring them back into the gas station's washroom. Fortunately, the stench around the place kept most people at bay, and this was one of those automated gas stations with no real workers. The drone at the counter was either AI or--more likely--remotely controlled by a person in a third-world-country for pennies on the hour.
They didn't have any shits to give about what we got up to in the washroom.
We had six bottles on the counter. They were picked out of the trash, so no two really matched, but that was fine. Next to those were a small container of kerosene, a now-empty plastic tank for diesel, and a chopped up mess of styrofoam. There was also an opened pack of tampons and the last pair of socks from a pack of eight pairs we'd gotten for cheap. The final part was a set of magnesium road flares. And tape, of course.
Always bring duct tape. That and a small can of sprayable lubricant. There was always some need for it on the job.
"Of course this is dangerous," I said. "But the worst part is done. I don't think there's any harm in tossing most of this in the trash. No one will likely check. Leave the gas canister outside and someone will abscond with it as well."
"Alrighty," Sharp said. She grabbed the bottles and gingerly inserted them into her duffle bag. We had some scraps of cloth to spare, so she wrapped them around the middle of each bottle so that they wouldn't clink and bang into each other. We didn't want them spilling, after all. "So, what's the plan now?"
"Let's see how much light we have to work with, but it's very possible that the next part of the plan will involve a lot of waiting."
And I was right, obviously.
Sharp and I left the gas station, only pausing once to rearrange the bottles so that they'd stop clinking with every step. The noise was unusual enough to grab attention, and that was the last thing we wanted.
We headed for the warehouse, but didn't just walk up to it. Instead, I had Sharp take a detour into a field, then I hopped off her shoulder and led her through some taller grass and across an old culvert until we came up behind the warehouse itself.
"We should be safe here," I said. We were a dozen metres from the rear fence of the warehouse. There was not much here, just a dip in the terrain and an old ditch that stank of chemicals and stagnant water. Greenery was pushing through old cement pads and the only other buildings in this area were all rather dilapidated warehouses and yards.
Some were in better shape. This wasn't a dead town or anything, there were trucks coming and going at all hours, and a highway ran by about two hundred yards back, but this certainly wasn't a lively spot.
I imagined that the only people that crossed the space we were in were vagrants and perhaps some strays. There was certainly a faint stink of piss in the air.
"Okay," Sharp said before I hissed at her.
"Quiet," I snapped. "We're not so far from the target that we couldn't be overheard."
"Right, sorry," Sharp said in a low whisper. "So, now what?"
"Now we need to find a way in. There's a fence in the way though. I think the sensible thing would be to let me pass. I'll scout ahead and warn you if there's someone coming. One meow means hide, or something like that."
It wasn't entirely fair to help her this much, but... well, this was her first gig. A bit of hand-holding couldn't hurt.
Sharp nodded, and we carefully made our way over to the fence. It was a little taller than she was, but not so much that Sharp couldn't hold me up in her hands close to the upper end. I considered the fall. It was... pretty high up. Taller than I'd ever fallen before, even, but I was pretty sure I could make the landing.
"Drop me," I said.
Sharp tossed me up a little, and I just barely went over the edge of the fence. I thought I'd have time to react before hitting the ground, but I fell so quickly that it was all I could do to splay my legs out. Then I hit the ground and sort of just... sprung there.
"Huh."
"Are you okay?" Sharp whispered.
I shifted, testing things. "I'm fine," I said. "Get the wire cutters out, I'll scout ahead."
"Got it," she replied before reaching back and under a bush. A moment later she returned with a brand new set of bolt cutters. She fiddled with them before locking the cutting end against some of the wires near the bottom.
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I nodded, then took off towards the warehouse. Slowly, keeping to the shadows, I made my way around until I was closer to the front. One of the guards was at the car, leaning against it and talking to another inside it. The other door was open, and the guy in the passenger seat was on his phone.
The others I couldn't see, but I did pick up a bit of music, probably belted out of a phone without a good speaker. They were talking.
I looked back and gave Sharp a nod.
There was a fairly loud 'clink' as Sharp managed to snap through one of the links in the fence. The guards didn't even care to look up. "Keep it up," I said, keeping my voice down even if it wasn't necessary.
There was another clink, then another, each one spaced some thirty seconds or so apart. I would have congratulated Sharp on taking her time, which was objectively the right thing to do, but I think it was only taking so long because the bolt cutters were manual and Sharp very much wasn't.
Eventually our good luck came to an end, though. One of the guards muttered a 'did you hear that?' to his friend just seconds before Sharp snapped through another link in the fence.
I heard him standing up, and the faint crunch of boots on gravel.
I winced, then did my part.
"Meow," I said. "Mrroww," I added while I sauntered forwards towards the goons.
The man coming over paused before reaching the corner and looked down at me. "Oh, it's a kitten," he said. "Pspspsps."
"Meow." I said.
"C'mon, kitty kitty," he replied before crouching down. This was a full-grown man, lean and muscular, with reptilian tattoos running down his uncovered arms. He made kissy noises.
I blinked slowly at him, and replied with another, "Meow."
"Just a stray," another said.
"Nah, look at him, he's got a little coat," the goon said. "Pspsps," he added.
I glared at him, then sat down well out of reach. The man smiled and turned towards his friend. "Hey, gimme a bit of your sandwich," he said.
"What? Mah man, my ma made these."
"You're not eating the crust, are you?"
"The fuck you take me for, a kid? Yeah I'm eating the crust."
"C'mon, it's for the cat."
"We're not gonna feed the strays. You're gonna end up with a dozen of them."
"Yeah, and why's that bad?"
I rolled my eyes, then realized that such a human expression was probably not smart. "Keep going, Sharp," I said. They were too embroiled in their argument to care.
I made a point of running past the goons, then lingering nearby, always well out of reach. I didn't want them grabbing me, after all. They didn't pay any attention to the occasional clink from where Sharp was waiting, not when they could instead argue with each other.
Eventually I ran around the lot, going the long way around until I returned to where Sharp was waiting. She smiled at me, and carefully pushed the hole she'd made in the fence open for me to get in. "Good work," I said.
"Thanks," she whispered. "I got a bush to hide the hole too."
She had unrooted a small bush from nearby. It made some rustling noise as she moved it, but it was a decent way to hide the cut in the fence, and I doubted those goons had memorized the location of every bush out back.
"Decent thinking. Let's get the next part going, then."
Sharp nodded, then reached over for her bag. I had to swat her hand to stop her from trying to push it through. Instead, we placed the bottles on the other side and then I helped Sharp squeeze past.
If I trusted her ability to throw things, then we wouldn't need to do this so carefully... but I didn't.
In any case, it took a solid twenty minutes of skulking around to place the cocktails we'd mixed up across the lot. Then, with the hole in the fence held open by a stick, Sharp flicked on a lighter and started to light the fuses.
The rags, soaked in kerosene a while ago but still damp, lit up the night.
Then the road flares caught, and soon there were a few loud cracks as the bottles burst open and spilled oil and diesel all over.
We were some ways away when the guards noticed, and by the time they'd come around to see what was burning, a few of our fires had started to spread.
"I think that should count as a successful mission," I said.
***