Monday, May 5, 2014

The Lost Key: Finnigan's Redemption- chapter 2

I step off the wooden fence and turn to Tyson. He's holding the binoculars next to his thigh and is biting his bottom lip with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

As if he can sense me staring he looks up at me. "What?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Nothing." I mumble and look away

He rolls his eyes and grins. "Whatever. I'm starving. Lets get this shit done. I've got a hot date tonight
and a shitload of recorded episodes to catch up on."  

I nod in agreement and he silently follows.

         When I get to the wire fence I place both hands on the cool metal and lift myself up off the ground, climbing at a comfortable pace. Thank god it's not barbed wire. I had a not too pleasant experience a while back. There was this ‘69 impala the boss wanted. It was in good condition and still in its original paint job. Four large Rottweiler’s came out of nowhere. Fuck alarms man. All you need are a couple of overaggressive hungry beasts. I have a couple impressive pink scars on my forearms that are still healing. Oh well. At least I got the car. That's all that mattered. 

         Once I get to the top of the fence I balance myself and swing a leg over. I sneak a quick glance behind me. Tyson is climbing the fence with a look of determination in his eyes. Soon he'll be at the top. I look down at the ground in front of me. There are a couple loose rocks and some broken bricks laying haphazardly on the ground.  I swing my other leg over so that I'm standing on the other side of it with my hands holding onto it tightly, al the while I'm making sure that I don't fall on my face or worse twist my ankle.

I hop off of the wired fence, barely missing an old tire, and buckle my knees, bracing myself for impact as my boots come into contact with the dirt pavement. A few seconds’ later Tyson lands beside me with a soft thud.

He walks up to me and brushes his arm with mine. “Here”, he whispers, his soft lips touching my ear lightly. His minty cool breath leaving goose bumps on my neck and shoulders. Damn. He shouldn't have this kind of effect on me.

Especially now of all places. 

Determined to get this night over with I shake off the feeling his proximity brings and take my dads’ binoculars and stuff them back in my pocket.

I jog ahead of him with ease towards the empty building with Tyson hot on my heels.

Adrenaline courses through my veins with each step that I take. The cool wind breezes past me and ruffles my hair to the side, but i don't mind.

It’s eerily quiet despite the occasional car zooming by in the distance. I can vaguely hear the sound of our feet touching asphalt.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Tyson grinning like the fool that he is. I roll my eyes at the dumb look on his face. It’s apparent who will make it to the warehouse first.

ME.

         Being a fast runner I always manage to outrun other people. I’m just naturally gifted, I guess. I slow down until he comes head to head with me. Pfft. The poor loser thinks he actually has a chance.

As if.

I turn my head slightly at Tyson. He has a huge smirk on his face. I mean sure he’s a good runner and
all, but nothing compared to me.

I shake my head at his poor attempts.

I use the rest of my strength and can feel the muscles in my thighs burn as my stride becomes longer, my heart beating at a fast yet comfortable pace as I leave Tyson behind.

Since there are no lampposts next to the warehouse I take a flashlight out of my side pocket and use it to guide me as we round the corner to the only entrance/exit.

I point the flashlight to the golden nob as Tyson comes up behind me.

He shoots me an irritated glance before he fishes out a set of lock-picking tools. “You cheated.” He grumbles softly, a bit winded.

I chuckle at his childish behavior. “Stop being such a sore loser, Ty.” I whisper handing him the flashlight so that he can get a better look at the hole.

I turn around as he does 'his thing' and look out for any sign of life that might be around besides the two of us.

         If I squint my eyes I can see lights from the city and I can hear the occasional splash of waves from the lake that’s right next door to the docks. No one swims on this side of the lake because it’s polluted with chemicals, trash, and the random car parts. Its like one big trash can for the city.
I hear a soft click behind me and I turn around to see a cocky Tyson leaning against the now open door.

I roll my eyes and he chuckles at my jealousy.

When we first started working together I asked if he would teach me how to pick a lock. He said that was 'his thing’ and that I should get my own specialty.

The jerk.

After a couple more ‘jobs’ that I pulled I became known as the 'spotter'. I think it's because of my slight OCD tendency. That and I'd rather not get caught by the popo any time soon.

In Ty’s own way I guess he was right. We all have our niche. It just takes practice to find it. Even so, I still want to learn how to pick locks. Imagine the hassle and time that I could save.

Tyson gestures with his free hand for me to go in before him. “Ladies first.” he smirks.

 I roll my eyes at his 'chivalry' and walk past him into the cold warehouse.

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