Street Trash (Pt. 2)
Stile trailed along at the back of the group, a few steps behind Evander. He fiddled with his gloves nervously, and he felt a cold trickle of sweat down his back. He had pulled off small heists before, but nothing like the challenge he was about to face.
Ivan reviewed the plan in a hushed tone as they walked. They were headed towards a high-end part of the city, filled with rich young couples and wealthy elders. One of such couples was leaving the town for a vacation, according to their overly-trusting little girl. Stile hadn't bothered to ask Halsey how he'd coaxed the girl into spilling the beans; he didn't want to listen to Halsey's self-praise any more than he had to. Halsey had managed to learn that the couple would be gone for three days, leaving the girl and her older brother in the care of a maid and two bodyguards. After studying the exterior of the house on several 'casual midnight strolls' they had decided on an entry point: a small window on the back of the house, which was shielded from the main road in front of the house by a perfectly trimmed hill. It wouldn't be too hard to pry open the deteriorating window. (Why such a rich couple would leave the window in a state of disrepair was a mystery to Stile, but he figured it was best not to question it.)
The gang arrived at a set of manicured hedges. Each boy had pulled their bandana over their lower faces a block before they reached the house, and their hoods were pulled up to cover their hair.
The streets were practically deserted; not many people bothered to come by this neighbourhood at midnight on a Wednesday. The few people that were around (weirdos, Stile thought) didn't seem like much of a threat, they were mainly teenagers, wandering the streets with their friends. There wasn't any reason to suspect that they were from opposing gangs, as they were dressed in posh clothing, evidently belonging to rich families.
Stile stopped pondering their luck on the trip there and focused on the present. Ivan was tapping his foot impatiently.
"We can't stand out here forever, it looks suspicious. Stile, get in there. Well follow you."
Stile frowned, and hissed back, "Why me? You're the leader, you should go first!" He paused, then chuckled. "Or are you too scared?"
Stile had hoped the comments would flatten Ivan's smugness, but - to the boy's dismay - they only seemed to increase his ego.
"Get in there, or I'll take half of your share of the loot and give it to Halsey here."
At this, Halsey smirked and puffed out his chest. Stile rolled his eyes.
Probably not the best of choices, he thought regretfully as Ivan's hulking form grew closer to him, eventually grabbing him by the shirt collar and leaning down to Stile's height. The other members watched in an anxious silence, not wanting to get involved in what was about to happen. Ivan's sour breath made his face moist. Gross.
"You listen here, runt." Ivan's voice dripped with venom, and Stile's disease increased. "The only reason I'm keeping you on is because you're quick and, mainly, expendable. I'd suggest keeping that tongue of yours in lone, unless you'd like to give up your spot in this gang. Either way, I'm happy. Make your choice."
Stile did just that. He jerked himself out of Ivan's grip and, with an indignant huff, pulled himself over the hedge. As he landed on the other side, he heard a few grumbles from behind him, and chose to ignore them.
He had entered a neatly clipped lawn, decorated with patches of flowers and elegant trees. To his left, the lawn angled upwards, with the house sitting on the curve. Stile noticed that, if he squinted, it seemed as if the hill was engulfing the house, slowly sucking it into the earth.
He heard a soft thump behind him, and Evander walked up beside him. He shoved Stile sideways before giving a toothy grin and running towards the massive house, keeping close to the trees and lawn ornaments for cover. Stile followed his path, and quickly caught up with the taller boy. They reached the window and crouched beside it, catching their breath as they waited for the rest of the group. Kaden came across first, having no problem sneaking across the yard. "Stile," he muttered as he neared the two boys, "you'd better keep that mouth of yours shut. You're a decent guy, but Ivan would be more than happy to get rid of you." He ran his hand through the wispy stared of hair sticking out from under his hat (which he, strangely, never seemed to take off).
Ivan was the next to come, moving more slowly than the others had. Halsey came not far behind him. They both arrived at the same time, and Halsey pulled out a small crowbar.
He pried off the rotting wood carefully, making little noise. The windowsill practically fell apart, and it didn't take long to wiggle out the chipped glass. Stile wrinkled his nose as a foul smell wafted from the opening, and realized that the room in front of them was a tiny bathroom.
Ivan raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
Stile got the message, and wriggled in through the hole. The floor beneath his feet was greasy, and the furnishings seemed to be quite old. Peering through the door, he saw a short, empty hallway. He walked back over to the window and stuck a thumb out of the gap - the coast was clear.
Stile turned away from the window and exited the small bathroom. There was a large wooden door to his left that looked quite promising. Ad he approached it, he noticed a small keypad on the left side, and a faint red glow coming from a bulb above the keys. The wood appeared to be shining in places, and Stile realized the door wasn't wooden at all, but metal in disguise. He swore softly. So much for that plan.
Evander walked up behind him, and evidently understood his frustration. "One moment, buddy," the curly-haired boy muttered. Stile, still studying the keypad, heard Evander's soft footsteps walking down the hallway. He saw the other three emerging from the washroom and splitting up, inspecting the section of the house they were in.
Stile removed his attention from the keypad and took a look around he cramped hall. It seemed fairly low-budget, with stained carpet on the floor and no furnishings other than a small table with a handbag on it. It hardly seemed worth taking; there were much more valuable things on the upper levels of the house, Stile was sure of it.
Kaden had left the door he entered open, and a cluttered kitchen was visible. There wouldn't likely be anything of value in there.
Ivan and Halsey had done the same, and they appeared to have entered a small living area. Ivan mumbled something, and Halsey's eyes widened. They both left the room promptly, closed the door quietly behind them, and joined Kaden.
Evander had gone through a grimy white door Stile hadn't noticed before. He kept an eye on the metal door, wondering if there was some way to break through it without triggering any alarms. Suddenly, the small red light above the keypad flickered, then went out. A small click resonated across the bare walls, and Evander came out of the small room. Although his mouth was covered, Stile could tell he was beaming.
Stile stepped towards the door, intending to push it open, but was shouldered aside by Ivan. The dark-haired leader muttered some impolite words before pushing the door open himself. On the other side, there was no sign of light, just an inky blackness that seemed to weigh down on the floor like a heavy curtain.
Stile, grumbling, followed three taller boys into the darkness.
(Note: I didn't edit this... Not much time. If you see any grammar/spelling mistakes, I'd appreciate it if you let me know...)
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