Page 41 of Caged
Sighing, I lower my pair of binoculars. Not a single car has driven into or out of Sigma tonight, which feels odd for a Saturday. Shouldn’t there be a caravan of people coming and going? It doesn’t make sense, but then again, it’s been like this every night of the week. Don’t these guys need to go to study groups or the library, at least? Does no one do late-night munchie runs anymore, or stumble home drunk at two a.m.?
“Fuck it, let’s go get snacks now. I’m hungry,” I concede.
“Now you’re talking,” Ele grins. She rummages around the two front cupholders. “Where the hell are my keys? They have to be here somewhere. Ah, found them. Okay, let’s…”
“Whoa, hold on!” I jump. “Headlights!”
The three of us crouch down on instinct as high beams emerge from the back parking lot and jostle down the driveway.
“They’re leaving!” Viv whispers loudly.
“Whose car is that?” Ele asks as she peeks over the dashboard at the car now turning onto the street. “What college kid drives a big ass black SUV?”
“You forget they’re all rich,” Viv says.
“I know, my point exactly! Rich kids get driven around in black SUVs. They don’t drive them. Should we follow it?” Ele asks.
“You two follow it,” I whisper. “I’m going to stay and try to sneak in again. “
“No, Gabi. Enough with the suicide mission,” Ele hisses, but my hand is already on the door handle. I gently open the car door and slide out. “Follow it!” I whisper-shout. “Hurry, before it gets too far away!”
I quietly shut the door before I change my mind, and slink around the car with cat-like movements. The brush alongside the road is thick enough to provide sufficient cover as I cut a wide path around Sigma house. Next comes the most treacherous part. A stretch of grass stands between me and the hedges planted along the house’s perimeter. Even with my all-black femme fatale outfit, it’s light enough outside, thanks to the full moon, to see a human-sized figure darting across the lawn.
The decorative gables and Gothic spires cast a patchwork of moonlit shadows ahead. I study the windows facing me for signs of movement, and when I see none, I bolt. Small branches snag the fabric of my black athletic zip-up as I force my way through the five-foot-tall hedge. Sharp twigs scrape the exposed skin ofmy hands and face. Some snap noisily apart as I continue to push past. The sound is loud enough to raise concerns, but I pray it gives off more of a medium-to-large animal foraging for food vibe than a human burglar.
Once I make it to the back of the hedge, I press my front torso flat against the exterior stone wall. I shuffle sideways from window to window. Unkempt branches dart out every few feet like barbs. No windows on the west-facing side of the house are even the slightest bit ajar, which means I have to continue the process on the south-facing side that borders both the back yard and the parking area. I slither around the south-west corner. The sound of gravel churning under tires fills the night air seconds before headlights come into view.
Sharp sticks rip at my shirt as I drop into a crouch. The hedge is thick with leaves, making it impossible to see, so I force my way inward until I have a clear vantage point. I try not to think about the millions of spiders and bugs crawling on me, likely readying an attack against the invader who smashed their home like a wrecking ball.
The slender porch in the back of Sigma house is brightly lit with porch lights. From where I’m crouched, the elevated porch obstructs my view of the parking lot, but I have a perfect side view of the porch steps.
“What the fuck?” I catch myself whispering aloud.
Figures approach, wearing long black cloaks and full-face black masks with tall… horns? I squint to get a better look, but details are hard to see in the dark. What in the satanic ritual shit is this? My pulse skyrockets, and I have to remind myself to control my breathing.
One… two. Three, four, five.
Five of these demonic figures just entered Sigma. Is this a twisted take on a themed mixer? I mentally strike that idea because it’s approaching midnight, and mixers always startaround nine-thirty or ten p.m. Plus, if they were having a mixer, music would be playing, voices would be shouting, and there would be people standing outside.
Fuck, Gabi, this is it. It’s happening,I tell myself. I have to get inside. My phone vibrates with a text from within my jacket pocket. I glance up to see if any more figures are approaching the back porch, and when I see none, I decide it’s safe to take out my phone.
Ele: Black SUV headed back your way. Went to two freshman dorms. People got out then more people got in. Couldn’t get a good look. Too far away. Returning to idle spot.
Shit, okay. Do I wait it out in this bush or try to get inside? The back door seems open, and with some luck, I can slip in that way.
Just as I gather my courage, I hear the thunk of car doors closing.
“Jesus,” I whisper at the sight of men dressed in head-to-toe black, wearing black balaclavas, escorting figures who look a hell of a lot like women in pajamas with black cloth bags over their heads. And there are a lot of women. I try to count but lose track. They all have their hands out in front of them as if they’ve had their wrists bound together.
What in the actual fuck is happening?
I unzip my other jacket pocket and take out my ski mask – one I wear when I actually go skiing. It’s regrettably not black but rather hot pink, which in hindsight was really fucking dumb. Sharp branches fight me as I pull this thing over my head and push my way out of the hedge. Crawling on all fours is my best bet at going unnoticed, so I scurry along the ground, being careful to stick close to the bottom of the hedges.
Do I crawl up the back porch steps? That seems like a bad idea. It’s too bright. But I don’t know if I’m tall enough to reach the ledge of the porch. I’d need a boost.
I stand on my tiptoes until my fingers curl around the lip of the ledge. Maybe I can scale it on my own like a rock climber if I put my foot… right… here…
The back door bursts open, and I panic, whirling around to press my back into the side of the structure.
