Chapter 15 #2
The shape finally pushed into view, low and sleek beneath the wire. A mama cat, tail flicking in short, sharp arcs. Behind her, three tiny bodies stumbled across the dirt, their heads too large for their steps, paws tripping over each other as they followed.
The exhale was slow, shoulders still taut. I lifted a hand, palm down, the signal clear. Cam’s barrel dipped first, mine a second later. The rifles stayed ready, but not aimed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cam muttered, voice pitched low, equal parts disbelief and relief. The kittens tumbled after their mother, vanishing into a patch of grass at the fence post.
The comm in my ear crackled. Alex’s voice cut sharp. “Talk to me.”
“South gate secure,” I answered flat, eyes still on the small shadows weaving along the fence line. “False trigger. Fucking cats.”
There was a long pause, the kind of silence that said she was deciding whether or not to believe what she’d heard. Then Alex’s reply, dry and clipped. “…Copy.”
Cam crouched low, rifle angled down, eyes on the tiny shapes nosing along the base of the fence. The kittens wobbled in a line behind their mother, mewing faint into the night.
“She’d like these,” she muttered, almost to herself.
My head snapped toward her. “She doesn’t need distractions.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t take them back.
Cam flicked a glance up at me, the corner of her mouth curving in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give her some.”
I kept my rifle steady, scope sweeping the tree line, the ditch, every patch of shadow that could hide a threat. She was crouched there thinking about pets. My job was to make sure Sabine lived through the week, not to hand her soft excuses to forget what kind of danger she was in.
The kittens tumbled against each other, tails tangling, their mother standing guard with ears pricked. Cam stayed fixed on them, shoulders loose, posture easy like she was already turning over how to make it work.
I ground my teeth but didn’t cut her off again. She could think what she wanted. Logistics were her business if she wanted to deal with the cats. My job was keeping the perimeter secure.
The comm clicked in my ear, Alex breathing steady as she monitored the feeds. The night pressed quiet except for the faint rustle of the animals. I stayed upright, disciplined, eyes forward, every sense still wired for the fight that hadn’t come.
Cam’s shrug carried more weight than her words. “I’ll grab a crate from the shed.”
I didn’t answer right away. My scope tracked the tree line, ears tuned to every scrape of gravel, every low rustle from the ditch. Leaving them here meant more false alarms, the kind that would keep our response keyed up when we needed it sharp. Better to deal with it once.
I gave a single nod. “Fine. Go.”
She rose fluidly, slinging her SMG across her chest as she angled back toward the SUV. She moved without hurry, but not careless, eyes still cutting the shadows as she went.
The engine rolled over, a low vibration running across the ground. Headlights stayed off as the vehicle eased around and back up the road toward the house. The sound faded slow, leaving me with only the night in my ears.
I adjusted my grip on the long rifle, shifting my stance so I could cover both the gate and the road. The kittens mewed faint under the wire, but I kept my focus wide. Cam could think about crates. My job was the line.
Alex's voice came again. "I reset the cameras out there, but I'm getting nothing. Visual check on the wires?"
I angled my flashlight at the cameras high overhead. They didn't appear to be compromised from below, but I would have to haul a ladder out here to check them more closely.
My scope tracked the line again, iron posts clean, no sign of strain or tamper. The ground near the base looked undisturbed, grass bent only where the wind pressed it flat. I swept lower, letting the beam of the moon touch a patch of dirt at the hinge post.
Something glinted there. Small. Out of place.
I crouched, rifle tight to my shoulder and picked up a cold metal lighter. It was heavy, and engraved with an elaborate filigree “B”, worn smooth by use. I ran my thumb over the thin lines, then slipped it into my pants pocket.
The SUV headlights broke the dark again, cutting across the fence line. Cam climbed out with a crate in hand, a quick grin flashing as she crouched by the gate to scoop the cats. The kittens tumbled inside with hardly a protest, the mother following them after a moment of hesitation.
I kept my rifle sweeping the horizon, eyes never leaving the tree line. “Cameras look fine from out here. We clear?” I asked into comms.
Alex’s voice came back steady in my ear. “All sensors reset. No movement. I'm resetting the cameras again. South gate is secure.”
Cam latched the crate with an easy motion and set it in the back of the SUV. She gave the gate one last pull, checking the lock twice before nodding up at me. Everything read clear, at least for now.
The road stretched ahead in the sweep of the headlights, gravel crunching under the tires. My rifle lay across my lap, stock against my shoulder, ready even though the threat had dissolved into nothing more than stray animals. My pulse was steady now, but the edge remained sharp.
False alarms didn’t lower the danger. They reminded you how close it sits. If this had been real, if someone had breached that fence, they would be dead. That is not bravado, only fact. That is the job. That is the line between Sabine's safety and the world outside.
The house came into view, lights cutting across the courtyard. Cam slowed, parking the SUV by the garage. She swung out, lifting the crate in her free hand. The faint sound of mewling kittens carried through the night air.
I stayed where I was for a second longer, one hand sliding into my pocket to touch the cold steel of the lighter.
No breaches tonight. Tomorrow, maybe not. The line holds either way.
She will never touch that danger. Not while I am breathing.